It took me a few moments to recompose, gather all the feelings strewn all over the floor, and remind myself of where I was, what I was doing.

The engagement party, at Axel's penthouse, and guests will arrive soon—

I gave my cheeks a few smacks, reviving myself, and hurried to get dressed, blow-dry my hair, and put some makeup on.

As it had in the fitting room earlier, the dress marveled me. It fit me to perfection, and I wondered if Axel had taken my measurements one night while we were sleeping in St. Tropez. It made no sense, and yet...how else would he have known exactly what size to get me? How else would he have been so sure this thing would be so tailored to me?

The floor-to-ceiling mirror in the bedroom reflected a poised, polite young woman who knew what she was doing and never took no for an answer.

The woman inside that body, though...was a mess. An utter train wreck of emotions she couldn't control and wasn't sure she even wanted to.

I was a mess. Every time I thought I had my shit together, Axel plowed in and destroyed me. Or, if not him, it was Olivia, re-immersing herself into my life as if she'd never left me alone to pick up all the pieces of her chaos.

Between then two of them, I wasn't certain how I was still standing.

I heard noises from outside the door; the commotion of guests arriving, visualizing the room, wandering around and chatting amicably.

That meant I needed to emerge, and fast. If anyone thought I'd had nothing to do with all the set-up—and I hadn't, because of Axel's distraction—they'd retract all their kind words about me. The reputation I was slowly rebuilding—I'd lose it if I weren't careful. If we weren't careful.

I triple-checked my appearance—the gorgeous gown, the hint of a glow on my cheeks, the deep aubergine lipstick that matched the fabric, and the subtle jewelry to make it seem like I had money. I stashed my purse and soiled clothes in a bag by the bed and exited the room.

The scent of fried finger foods and pastries hit my nostrils first. The closer I walked to the living room, the luxury smell whiffed over. Expensive colognes and overly flowery perfumes tickled inside my nose, making me want to sneeze. I gritted my teeth and held in the urge as I entered the throng of people.

The place was packed, yet accommodating. Axel's living room was quite spacious, even with all the tables and displays along the walls and tucked into corners. Folk mingled, dressed to the nines, clutching cocktails to their chests as they laughed, welcoming others as they ushered in from the lobby. The ding of the elevator reverberated over the soft music every few minutes, announcing more arrivals.

An unsettling warmth spread through me. From the chairs to the tables to the decorations on the walls—it all looked great, but I'd had no hand in any of it. I'd helped with none of it. No, I'd been much too busy in my panic, being ravished by the one who'd paid for it all—

A few guests came to greet me, recognizing me, lavishing me with compliments I didn't deserve. They pointed out the tasteful decor, congratulating me on such a lovely set-up.

"Oh, please," I said, flushing as I shook hands. "I can't take credit for any of this. All I did was coordinate the people who put it all together."

My flush grew uncomfortably hot; I hadn't done anything. All I'd been responsible for was gathering all the vendors and telling them what to do while I spread my legs for Axel's tongue—

"Well," one woman beamed at me, "it's resplendent, really. You have excellent taste to find such talented people."

I took the compliment, but it belonged to Axel. He'd vetted all the vendors, recommended a few of his own that he used for special events at the hotel. He'd communicated the urgency, fished out the money for additional costs, sent out the messages and emails with details. The string lights on the walls, the intricate photos and portraits of the brides hanging in heart-shaped frames, the tables of appetizers and sliders and baked goods—that was all Axel's doing.

Once again, he'd operated behind the scenes, and made it appear like it was my doing. He thrived with last-minute details, while I hyperventilated and needed a good tongue-fuck to calm myself down.

What I needed to do was stop thinking about that tongue-fucking so I could concentrate on this night.

Across the crowded room, I spotted the bar, worked by two bartenders. It was the same counter-top I'd noticed yesterday, but neon lights were strung from the edges, and all the shelves were crammed with liquors of all flavors.

I most definitely needed a drink, and since I couldn't spot Axel anywhere, I shoved through to reach a miraculously empty space. Everyone had gotten here so damn early; it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

"Do you have rosé?" I asked one of the bartenders, who eyed me up and down, either in admiration, or in judgment; I was too overwhelmed to tell or care.

"We have whatever you need," he said, and I decided it was admiration, because he smirked at me, his gaze lingering in my decolleté area.

"A rosé, then," I said, turning away, wincing. An event where hired bartenders hit on the wedding planner—no, thank you. I had enough to worry about.

Many of those worries dissipated as I sighted my savior coming through the crowd, towards me. Their hair was twisted into two braids on either side of their luminous face, and they'd lathered deep copper tones on their eyes, lips, and jewelry. They wore a baggy but tasteful black suit and grinned at me when they arrived beside me at the bar.

"Chi," I said, letting out the deepest sigh of relief. To see them, my friend, my colleague, in this room overcrowded with rich miscreants who cared about nothing but fame and wealth, filled my lungs with real oxygen, at last. "Thank fuck you're here." I reached around for my rosé and lifted it to my lips. "Because I'm losing it."

"Why is it already so packed?" They ordered a flavored martini of some kind, and turned to lean their back against the counter, like me, to scan the guests. "I thought it started at eight. You told me seven-forty-five, to be on the safe side. And here I am fashionably late, and it's too busy in here to get a good view of anything going on."

"Beats me." Another sip, and I smacked my lips; whatever this brand was, it was divine. "I didn't realize it'd be such a large turn-out."

"And you did all this," they waved from one end of the room to the other, "in only a few hours? Impressive, babe."

I bit my lip before remembering I was wearing lipstick. "Yeah, so, actually...I didn't do any of it."

Chi arched a thick eyebrow, twisting to me. "Didn't you get here early and shit?"

"I did, but..." My gaze kept twitching over to the darkened hallway that led to the guest bedroom. "I got sidetracked."

"Sidetracked." Chi analyzed my face with a slow nod. "Right. Sidetracked. Hm. I get your meaning; sly, subtle. Nice. And where is our handsome side-quest now?"

I slapped their arm and shushed them. "I don't know, and I don't care. He's...I just...and we..."

Chi grabbed my shoulder and steadied me, silenced me. "You don't have to give me details, but were there condoms involved?"

This was the worst place to discuss this, but with the music and the conversations growing louder, I figured we were safe. "No. Tongues."

"Lovely." Chi didn't swipe the smile off their face fast enough, before pretending to frown. "Uh, I mean," they slapped my arm, "bad girl! I need a spray bottle for the two of you."

I was about to answer my agreement, when another figure came prancing through the mass of guests, headed straight for us. It wasn't the man who took my breath away and ate me out like his life depended on it; it was the other person who rudely occupied my thoughts as of late.

She wore an apple-green dress that accentuated her silhouette, and gold makeup that enhanced her already perfect features. Her candy-pink lipstick was shiny and appetizing, even from afar. Rich and sweet and thick, I would have licked it right off her plump lips—

Don't see me, don't see me, don't see me!

And then I remembered how my dress drew glances ever since I entered the room, and it was too late.

She'd have no alternative but to see me, whether or not she'd planned to.

Knowing her, she did plan to.

"Oh." Chi's body seemed to crumble inwards as they saw her, too. "Splendid. Olivia." They spared me an uncomfortable glance. "Forgive me if I don't stick around for this. She can go fuck herself. I'll go see to anything the guests need, hm?" They snagged their martini glass and departed, leaving me alone to face the blonde bombshell of my hot nightmares.

Olivia had no interest in Chi. Her green gaze was glued to me as she took their spot, as if they'd never been there.

"Darling," she said, air-kissing me. I tried not to grimace at her intoxicating cotton-candy aroma. "So good to see you. You look," she leaned in near my ear, giving me chills, "fucking hot. That dress, hmm. Scrumptious."

She was probably imagining me out of the dress, and I shuddered.

I inched away from her, allowing myself some distance as she ordered some complicated cocktail with an unpronounceable name. "Olivia, you're here. All set up?"

She didn't respect my silent request for space, because she jammed our shoulders together, like we were two buddies hanging out at some dive bar. "Oh, come on, why are you so formal with me? Of course I'm here. I'm a guest, too."

"Olivia," I cautioned, my cup at my lips, my gaze fixated on the rows of liquor bottles behind the busy bartenders. Anything to avoid staring at her.

"Sheesh," she spun to face the crowd, "fine. Yes, all set up, over there." She pointed to the left corner of the room, not far from the couch where Axel and I had fucked yesterday. More chills. "No one famous has showed up yet, though, so I'd better go stand nearby and keep watch." She seized her drink, batted her lashes at me, and blew me a kiss.

I almost pushed her away; the longer she stayed beside me, the more conflicted my feelings became. I just had Axel's tongue between my legs, and I hated that I wouldn't have minded Olivia's there, as well. They both knew where to go, how to make me scream—and oh, to have them both working to finish me off would have been a delight.

"Fuck," I said to myself as I turned to the bartender. My drink was nearly empty; I shook it at him in the most impolite way, and cringed as he took it from me. "Gosh, I'm sorry. I'm never this rude."

He chuckled as he refilled the glass. "In a room full of people like this? I don't blame you."

How he knew I wasn't one of those people, I didn't know, but I didn't question it.

I moved away from the bar before I tried to steal the bottle of rosé for myself. Being in the vicinity of liquor while in such a stressed state? Bad idea.

I navigated through the guests, shaking more hands, thanking, nodding, smiling. And when I stumbled upon him, I sucked in a breath and held my head high.

Axel had changed from his business suit to his entertaining host attire, in a shade so similar to mine, one might think we'd coordinated our outfits. His dark ginger hair was still scruffy, as if he hadn't brushed it after kneeling in front of me. As if he'd left it that way to taunt me, to remind me what had made his hair like that.

I swallowed, going to him when he waved me over.

"Mr. Levine," I said, as curtly as I could without sounding too rude.

"The brides are in the elevator, on the way up," he said, his cup of coppery liquid near his lips, coating them in the same sheen as my—

I yelled at myself internally.

Stop thinking of his face between your legs, dammit!

"Perfect. And...do we clear a passage for them?"

Axel took a sip. "My assistant will start clapping when they get in, and everyone else will follow suit. Come," he nudged me into following him to a spot closer to the lobby, "we'll wait off to the side. They'll need to greet many people before they get to us."

We passed by Violet and Reece—both of whom gave me warm hugs, thanking me again for their wedding—and settled against the wall, near the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"You okay?" He didn't look at me as he asked, but I sensed the concern in his voice, the tension in his arms as he stood next to me.

"Okay enough." I peered into my drink.

"Need another round?" He sucked his lips between his teeth.

"Of booze? No," I swirled my wine, "probably a bad idea."

"I was referring to something else," he lowered his voice, "that happened earlier."

I felt heat swarm up my face but didn't get a chance to reply as the elevators dinged. The brides arrived, decked in their matching silver and gold gowns. They looked like two precious jewels, delicate but strong, weaving through the throng of attendees to loud applause and cheers.

I couldn't move, though I wanted to pinch Axel's arm, or punch it, or dig my nails into it. How could he dare speak so boldly out here? If anyone had heard that something had happened between us earlier, no matter the nature of it, we'd be in big trouble.

He was lucky everyone was so focused on the brides' arrival, and not the CEO and his forbidden fuck-friend of a wedding planner standing beside him.

Mollie continued to web through the people, but Estelle sighted us and weaved over to embrace her brother, then tap me on the upper arm. I wasn't expecting any more than that; we weren't on such loose terms. From what I'd gathered, she wasn't much of a touchy-feely person.

"Wow," she said, squeezing between us, swerving to watch her fiancée interact with the guests. "You pulled this off quickly and flawlessly." She glanced at me, eyes narrowed, then at Axel, but I could no longer see her, so I couldn't tell what sort of expression she was giving him. "Fabulous collaboration, you two."

The way she'd peered at me, then the tone of her voice, and the knowing look she'd thrown at her brother as she walked away to join Mollie—it all reminded me of her behavior in St. Tropez, the day of the storm. She'd given me that same look, that same glint of suspicion in her eyes.

I'd been mildly panicked then, but I was on the verge of an actual panic attack now.

Does she know? How does she know?

I angled sideways, hoping Axel would understand I meant to speak into his ear. He got it, and lowered to a level where he could hear me.

"She knows, doesn't she?" My words were hoarse, but from the manner in which Axel stiffened, I assumed he'd picked up on all of it without me needing to be more specific.

I braced for his groan, his frown. He'd tell me to stop overreacting, that everything was fine, that our secret was safe.

But to my shock, he craned his neck in my direction and flinched. The briefest of flinches, but loaded with enough doubt and confusion that it stayed anchored in my mind for several minutes.

"Oh, yes," he said, his cheeks draining of color, "she absolutely does."

☼☼☼