TODAY, Muse was going to meet Julien Vitale and Grey Hansen.

Or rather, she'd be meeting Grey Hansen. Her and Julien were already acquainted.

Adrien winced, remembering her father splattered head-to-toe in fondue cheese. His voice had been cold and clear as he'd pronounced, You. I want you fired. He'd been embarrassed, and when Julien Vitale was embarrassed, he took his anger out on everyone around him. Muse had been the one to pay for it that day.

Hopefully dear old Dad had forgotten about that little incident by now.

Adrien, waiting in her sleek black Porsche outside Muse's apartment complex, glanced up at herself in the rearview mirror. Checking herself for any flaws, any imperfections, any weaknesses. If she showed weakness, her father would exploit it.

Once, when she'd been seven, she'd been playing soccer at the park with kids from a different neighbourhood (most of the people where she lived were adults, far too old and rich and polished to get roughed up kicking around a muddy ball). In her attempt to steal the ball from an opponent, she got knocked to the ground. It was a pretty vicious bodycheck. Adrien's nose started bleeding.

She'd had to quit mid-game and run back home. She'd knocked on the front door, expecting one of their maids to open it, and instead she'd come face to face with Julien.

Eyes watery, she'd said, "Daddy, my nose is bleeding."

Stone-cold. "I can see that."

She'd pinched her nose and hopped from foot to foot, but he hadn't moved out of the door frame to let her pass. Instead, he'd looked down at her. Back then, it felt like he'd been ten feet tall, a giant looming over her.

"You are a disappointment, Adrien."

Blood dripping between her fingers, urgency pumping in her blood, Adrien hadn't registered it at first. A disappointment? Was he right?

"You are supposed to be giving injuries, not receiving them." He stepped aside at last and sniffed disdainfully. "Clean yourself up. And remember that."

From then on, Adrien became more vicious, more violent. She won more games, but she left a lot of kids crying, too. For a while, it was fun. Each time the ball hit the net, she felt the breathless exhilaration of a win. And when someone shoved her, she shoved back harder. It was fun, until it wasn't. Until one day, she gave a boy her age a nosebleed and he rushed toward his mom, who had been watching from the sidelines.

Usually, there were no parents supervising. But today. Today, some mother had chosen to sit on the bleachers and watch her son play.

The mother hadn't gotten mad at Adrien. She hadn't cared about Adrien at all. As her son ran towards her, she rifled in her purse and yanked out a wad of tissues. When he reached her, she didn't say, You are a disappointment. She made him lift his head, pinch his nose, and then she patted his bloody upper lip with tissues and gave him a hug.

Adrien had been in complete shock.

That was the day she'd realized Julien Vitale wasn't like other parents.

That was the day she started hating him.

A knock on the window startled Adrien back into the present. It was Muse, one hand holding her dress at the chest as she leaned down to peer into the Porsche.

"Hey." A wry grin.

Yesterday, at Muse's apartment, Adrien had sensed the change in Muse's mood like a switch flicked off. It had been so fast she might not have noticed if she wasn't paying attention. But Adrien, though loath to admit it, loved paying attention to Muse. One minute, they'd been flirting, and the next . . . Muse had rushed Adrien out of the apartment.

Adrien hadn't seen her since then, but her lawyer had informed her that Muse had received an NDA in the mail and sent it back. The marriage was still on.

But Adrien couldn't shake her memory―couldn't shake that expression on Muse's face. She felt hesitant as she rolled down the window, but she hid it well. And she didn't have to fake the amazement she felt upon seeing Muse all dressed up. 

"You look beautiful. Hey, do I know you from somewhere?"

"Doubt it," said Muse. "No one forgets a face like this in a million years."

Adrien knew Muse was only joking, but secretly she thought she was right. She'd never forget Muse's face for as long as she lived―even after they divorced, even if their fake marriage lasted only four months.

"Well then, it's nice to meet you, stranger."

Muse walked to the other side and jumped back in fright when the door started opening upwards instead of sideways. Adrien held back a laugh, and Muse recovered fast, breathlessly ducking inside.

"I wouldn't say it's nice."

"Hm?"

"To meet me. I wouldn't say it's nice. You know, the other day, someone accidentally burned themselves while talking to me. They were just so distracted they didn't realize their hand was on a hot stovetop. Crazy, isn't it?"

"What an idiot," Adrien scoffed. She began driving, fully aware her bandaged hand was visible on the steering wheel.

"Oh, yeah. I think so too. But I can't really speak badly of her, 'cause, you know, she gave me a tampon when I really needed one." Adrien felt Muse looking at her sideways. "Thanks for that again, by the way."

Adrien smiled a little and met Muse's eyes in the rearview mirror. "You already said thank you."

"Still. Thank you again."

For a beat, neither of them spoke. Then Adrien said, "Speaking of crazy stories, I met someone the other day in a museum. Absolute lunatic, that one."

"Do tell."

"For starters, when she saw me, she ran away."

"Ran away?" Adrien looked into the rearview mirror again and saw Muse fighting a smile. "That's terrible. Maybe you were a sore sight."

"She ran away," Adrien continued, "right into a statue of a naked man."

"A naked man? God, you two must've been arrested."

"Arrested, interrogated, and almost charged for art theft."

"If only there was a hot, extremely wealthy CEO there to bribe the museum curators . . ."

Adrien almost swerved into oncoming traffic at the fact that Muse had called her hot. Logically, she knew Muse had said it before. But the effect was no less profound the second time around.

"If only," Adrien said, coughing a little and trying to pretend she hadn't nearly just caused both their deaths because Muse had called her hot. "Yes, if only."

"Too bad I can never go back to that museum." Muse sounded thoughtful now. "It was my favourite place."

"Why not?" said Adrien without thinking.

"Why not?" Incredulous. "No way in hell they're letting me step foot in there again after I broke some priceless naked man statue. Even if you did bribe them."

"I'm sure you can go back." Do not tell her you bought the entire museum and every last art piece because you didn't like how that guard threatened her or she'll think you're psychotic.

"No, I really don't think so." Muse side-eyed her. "Thanks for the faith, though. I think they'd drag me out kicking and screaming."

Adrien had to swallow. "Maybe you should just try."

Before Muse could respond, they pulled into their destination: a fancy restaurant named Le Sardinien. Outside, fairy lights had been strung on the patio. The waiters bustling past were dressed in deep, dark, wine-red.

"Much better than white," Muse said.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh," Muse said. Adrien could see her blush even in the dark. "Um, at the Cayenne Steakhouse, the waiter uniforms were white. So, like, if you spilled anything, or got your, um, period, the clothes were ruined. I thought it was pure sadism on the owner's part. Waitressing is a messy job." She nodded to one of the waiters dressed in red. "Much better than white."

Adrien heard Muse speaking, and she did her best to listen, but all she was thinking of was the distance between them and how long it would take to close it and what would happen if she kissed Muse right here, right now.

"Are you ready to see my father again?"

Muse nodded. Adrien had spent so long reading body language she could tell it was a lie immediately.

"We just need to get through dinner. We'll break the news, probably be met with barely veiled hostility from my father and contempt from Grey, have dessert, and then go home. It'll be fun."

"Right. Fun." Muse breathed in deeply. "I kind of know what to expect from your dad, but is there anything I should know about Grey?"

"He's thirty. He's got a wife and a baby on the way. Once he realizes we're getting married and I have a shot of taking the enterprise from him, he'll probably hit on you with the intent of sleeping with you and then blackmail you with videos of the sex, so you'll end up leaving the country and spend the rest of your days on some tropical island like Fiji."

Adrien had no idea if anything after the hitting on Muse part was actually true―she'd always suspected Grey of cheating on his wife, but she didn't have proof. Either Grey really was a wholesome, good-hearted family man who had changed for the love of his life, or he hid his affairs very well.

"I don't think anyone can tempt me when my future wife looks like that, and I never really saw the appeal of Fiji anyway, so." Muse exhaled. "Let's go."

"One thing," Adrien said, opening her car's compartment. She removed a black velvet box and popped it open, revealing a large, sparkling diamond set in a gold filigree band. "Your engagement ring."

She held her breath, watching as Muse's mouth opened with breathless surprise.

"Adrien . . . it's beautiful. I would have picked exactly this if I ever . . ."

"I'm glad you like it." Adrien had gone to an engagement store herself, and browsed through the endless collections of rings, looking for one that would feel just right. Her secretary, Frederick, had offered to shop for her, but she had refused. She needed to be the one to pick this out for Muse. "I hope it's the right size. I guessed."

When she was in Muse's apartment, she had slipped one of her rings into her pocket while she was supposed to be using the bathroom, measured it, then carefully returned it to the exact same spot. 

Muse slid the ring onto her fourth finger. The light of the restaurant outside made the diamond glisten in the dark car.

"I love it," she said, almost a whisper. 

"It looks perfect on you," Adrien said. You look perfect. "Now we're ready to go."