"Is this really necessary?" Blair grumbled, adjusting her jacket nervously.

"We have to have been seen together before I introduce you," Ezra chuckled, adjusting his tie, "My grandfather will be suspicious if I show up and there's no evidence of us ever having spent time alone."

They had already agreed to a shared backstory - re-united, long separated friends recently reconnecting when Ezra saw her working as a project manager in his company. As Ezra emphasized at the time, though, a backstory is only a foundation. If they wanted to make their relationship believable, they needed to play the part and appear together in public doing normal couple things.

"How will he even know?" Blair complained, ignoring Blaise's chuckle hidden behind his fist near the door.

"He's always watching," Ezra scoffed, shaking his head, "He's overbearing like that."

Blair sighed, turning around to cross her arms - though her pout was more adorable than she probably meant it to be.

The second she had signed the contract Ezra sent her to HR to put in her two weeks' notice, then begin the paperwork as an independent consult. The second they were finished he'd insisted she come to his penthouse to get ready for a date. She felt like it was too fast - they'd literally just made their agreement - but she couldn't argue the logic behind his decision.

A key part of the whole arrangement was not letting Ezra's grandfather ever find out that the marriage was just a contract marriage - even the lawyers Ezra had arranged to manage it were his personal lawyers rather than family or company ones. It was essential his grandfather believe the farce. That meant they had less than two weeks to have any kind of relationship to act as a foundation before he introduced her, so they needed to use every moment of time wisely.

Still, the outfit he'd picked for her pricked at her skin and brought back memories of a life she struggled to believe she still belonged in.

It was beautiful, she couldn't deny that, and obviously expensive. The black dress was form fitting and showed off her figure while being long enough to cover most of her skin. The jacket covered her shoulders and arms, which she appreciated - she wasn't disfigured, per se, but the scars she did bear made her uneasy.

She looked... wealthy. Fancy. Like an heiress or the fiancé of a rich man.

Things she didn't feel fit her anymore despite being technically true.

He looked fantastic as well, she had to admit, with his deep-blue dress shirt slightly unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to make it a bit less formal despite the fact that his clothes likely cost just as much as the dress she was wearing.

"We almost look like a real couple," she muttered, eyeing him with clear approval.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, pulling a long velvet box from his pocket.

"Here," he said gently, "to mark the occasion of our first official date."

Blair blinked, her eyes flicking between the box and his face several times before she hesitantly reached out to take it.

"I... didn't get you anything," she muttered with a furrowed brow, knowing she hadn't exactly had the time to prepare something but feeling awkward nonetheless.

"I know," he chuckled, nodding at the box, "Open it."

The second she did she inhaled sharply, nearly dropping it.

It wasn't a name brand bracelet, or even brand new - no, it was so much more than that.

"This," she choked, staring at it with wide eyes, "is this... Qing Dynasty?"

Her appraisal skills kicked in immediately, and she couldn't help inspecting it for authenticity.

An inspection that passed after several minutes and left her breathless. The articulated link bracelet was set in gold, and the red jade was highly translucent marking it as extremely high quality.

It was a priceless antique that was nearly impossible to get ahold of.

"It is," he confirmed with a smirk, studying her reaction with pride, "I have it on good authority it's quite rare given the quality of the jade."

"Yes," she choked, looking up at him in shock, "Yes it is."

He stepped forward and took the box from her stunned fingers, placing it on her wrist without meeting her stunned eyes.

"I-I can't possibly," she rasped, her eyes darting from it to him in shock, "this is priceless, Ezra! I can't accept this!"

"You can," he said firmly, glancing up and holding her gaze, "and you will."

He was pleased with her reaction to it, especially considering how difficult it had been to get in such a short time.

After all, what do you gift a woman who's set to inherit a wealth others can't imagine? Who comes from a background akin to royalty?

Money wasn't what would impress someone like her, no - it was the things only influence could buy. The things that made it clear he saw who she was and valued it.

It had worked, leaving Blair in a rare state of speechlessness.

"Come on," he chuckled, moving beside her and guiding her forward with a hand on her lower back, "we have a public appearance to make."

"Afterward we're hitting a street stall for real food," she scoffed after a long moment, trying and failing to sound grumpy while she stared at the bracelet on her wrist with sparkling eyes.

"Sounds like a plan," Ezra laughed, shaking his head at the woman he guided toward his car.

Even Blaise couldn't help but snicker at her, clearly amused at her rejection of the very world she came from.

When they'd told her they were going to the high-rise restaurant that was considered one of the most exclusive in the city, Blair had recoiled at the very thought. It wasn't that the food wasn't good, she insisted, but that they gave portions fit for birds but at the price of a feast.

She seemed personally offended by the entire idea, and it had made Ezra laugh out loud.

If he was honest, Ezra didn't disagree. It wasn't the quality of the restaurant that really drove his choice, though it did have the top chefs and the food was exquisite. The truth was that he had a hard time going out in public without it causing a big scene. Exclusivity allowed him a bit more breathing room.

When his grandfather eventually looked into things, it would be public enough to confirm they had gone on a date - but during the actual date itself he wouldn't be swarmed by people or media trying to get his attention.

That's why he had never actually had street food, and wasn't actually sure what to expect from it. He found himself intrigued at the idea, and decided that if he had to wear a mask so he could go out and try it - he would.

By the time they were sitting at the table, looking down through the glass floor at the city lights below, he found himself genuinely curious what a date she had arranged would look like.

"So, I already know this isn't your scene," he said, thanking the waiter after placing his order for wine and appetizers, "I'm curious what the perfect date looks like to you?"

Blair tilted her head, studying the man across from her - seated at a table with a real table cloth, actual candles, a stand that will soon have a chilled bottle of expensive wine in it, and a suit that costs more than what most people make in a month.

She smirked at the opulence and how it clashed with her own interests.

"You'd hate it," she chuckled, shaking her head, "I prefer jeans and a sweatshirt to dresses, trips to the aquarium or museum versus fancy galas or expensive events. I haven't been on a whole lot of real dates because crowds tend to make me nervous, but I like seeing places that are historically significant or artistically unique, I like nature, and I like quiet. Parties? Fancy dining? This isn't where I thrive."

"Give me an example," Ezra said, leaning back and studying her curiously, "what's a place that's artistically unique?"

"Naoshima, Japan, Instituto Inhotim in Brazil, and Gansu, China all come to mind," she said immediately, "they're known for their art, specifically. Also just beautiful places - places where you can look out and not see a street lamp or phone lines. There's something special about standing in nature and enjoying the beauty of how things exist without human touch."

Ezra nodded thoughtfully, noting, "spoken like an artist. Sounds like your inspiration is drawn from nature, then?"

"Often," she admitted, "I did a lot of paintings of landscapes, especially in the beginning. It wasn't until later that I became known for a different style."

"I've seen your work," Ezra admitted, studying her, "I know your sister has claimed it as hers and has taken the credit, but the paintings are still highly appreciated and featured in several galleries. I was particularly fond of your last painting, 'The Feathered Serpent.'"

Blair smiled, a tinge of sarcasm obvious in her eyes.

"It's funny... when I painted that, it was meant to celebrate Quetzalcoatl and the wisdom of the serpent. The gold inlay that I put into the egg, the purple hues of the scales you could only see at certain angles... the entire piece took months. I had no idea at the time that a serpent of a very different kind would end up stealing it."

In truth, it was one of her proudest works. She had secured particularly rare paints for it, and utilized techniques she'd been trying to master for years. The final piece had truly made her wonder if she could ever produce anything as good as that in the future.

Now, she figured, she'd never know.

"Do you think you'll ever paint again?" he asked seriously, unable to miss the hint of sadness at the corners of her eyes.

"I never stopped," she said shrugging, looking out over the city, "I paint for myself and for my patients. I just don't paint for others anymore."

"When the truth comes out, will you?" Ezra pressed, genuinely curious.

"I'm not sure," Blair frowned slightly, "It really depends. A piece takes twice as long as it once did, and I don't devote myself to the craft anymore. I've also lost some of my mobility with the way my hands are now. I'm not at the same level as I was, and probably won't be again."

She turned to him for a moment then before asking, "How did you know I was S.M.? My sister has established herself as the artist behind the moniker for years, and no one really questioned it after she revealed some of the paintings she'd found at the estate to 'prove it.' Plus I never fought it. How did you figure it out?"

"She hasn't released a single piece since you went abroad," he said honestly, "She came out and claimed the identity, then released several paintings that were clearly older to prove what she said was true. Then nothing.

It's been years, and people have tried to commission pieces, but she insists that she has given up the craft. You don't pour your heart into the time and skill those paintings required then give it up that easily. The second I saw your academic background, it was easy to put the pieces together."

"You're the first to-" she began with a small smile, but was interrupted before she could finish the thought.

"Amelia?!" a voice had both of them snapping their heads to the side, and they were greeted with the sight of a red faced, clearly fuming Ryan with his mother by his side.

"Aw great," Blair mumbled, pinning Ezra with a glare, "This is definitely getting blamed on you."

"Yeah," Ezra sighed in resignation, not looking away from the man stomping toward them, "that's fair."

--

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