I was dragged away from the check-in table when the sequin-jacketed woman reappeared, her glittering shoulders leading the charge as she complained loudly about the food line taking far too long. Apparently, Susan had abandoned the order we painstakingly planned and was now releasing tables to the buffet at random. The ballroom was a mess of confusion, with guests just hopping into the line, unaware that there was an order.

I let the sequin lady cut in front of a younger couple which was acknowledged with a huff and was just starting to feel triumphant when one of the waitstaff cornered me. "Guests are complaining about the satin napkins. Says they won't stay on the table," he whispered urgently. I groaned internally. I'd tried to talk Susan out of satin weeks ago, but no, she insisted everything needed to "shine."

Luckily, the caterers had a stash of simple black cloth napkins. I dropped them at the end of the buffet line like a peace offering and was about to breathe a sigh of relief when another guest approached, her tone dripping with disdain.

"Five thousand dollars to start for a weekend in Aspen? I could book the whole trip for half that through my agent," she complained, her perfectly manicured nails tapping a silent auction flyer.

I plastered on my brightest event-coordinator smile and replied, "Well, this is a fundraiser! Remember, your money goes to a great cause if you win."

She responded with an eye roll and stalked off toward the bar, leaving me standing there, silently agreeing with her. Five grand was absurd, but hey, there had to be someone here willing to bid that much if only for the tax write-off. Right?

I'm about to head toward the food line to finally grab a plate when my phone buzzes against my thigh. My dress may be simple and not as body-hugging as Ainslee's but it has pockets! I slide my phone out and glance at the screen- it's Chase. My eyes dart up, scanning the ballroom. With nearly two hundred guests milling around under the soft, mood-lit glow, spotting him is like finding a needle in a glittering haystack.

I glance at the text and groan. It's about Logan. Apparently, he's arrived and wants to know which table he's at. I'm about to type out a response when I hear my name.

I look up to see Ainslee gliding toward me, Chase trailing close behind her with another man walking alongside them.

"I just texted you," Chase says as they reach me.

I wave my phone slightly. "Yeah, I saw."

He gestures toward the man beside him. "Was wondering where to seat Logan here. Logan, you remember Stella?"

I do a double take, blinking at the stranger as he smiles and extends a hand.

"Don't know if remember me," he says, his grin boyish but confident. "I'm Logan, a friend of Chase's."

I want to laugh, but I hold it in. The Logan I remember looks nothing like the polished man standing before me.

Last summer, Logan was all chaos and carefree rebellion- long, unkempt blondish hair tied into a messy bun, a dark beard that skimmed his shoulders, and a wardrobe of beer-logo T-shirts paired with cutoff jeans. His wrists were stacked with beaded bracelets, and an arrowhead dangled from a leather string around his neck.

This Logan? He's almost unrecognizable. His hair is cut short, still casually tousled but deliberate. The beard is neatly trimmed, his broad shoulders fill out a tailored navy suit, and there's a silver watch on his wrist that complements his tie pin. The bracelets and arrowhead necklace are gone, replaced by a sleek, grown-up sophistication.

And yet, the mischievous glint in his eye? That hasn't changed.

"No, I mean, yeah... I do remember you. We threw your launch party last summer," I tell him and he nods in agreement. "I just...you were a bit more...Boulderish, the last time I saw you." He tosses his head back and laughs but before he can reply, Chase says, "Logan here finally grew out of his college clothes."

"And man-bun," I add with a smile and Logan runs his hands through his short hair. Ainslee reaches up like she's about to run her own fingers through it when she stops short and says, "It's so wild to think you used to have long hair." She glances at me and says, "I've only known CEO Logan."

"CEO Logan?" I ask and am grateful when a cocktail waitress strides by. We all snatch champagne flutes off her tray.

"We joke that there's stoner Logan and CEO Logan," Chase says with a laugh and they are all so vibey with each other I can tell Ainslee is already in with Chase's friends.

"Ah, I must have met stoner Logan," I joke and he nods in agreement. Ainslee is about to add something else but she's interrupted by Susan and a woman dressed in a glittery, beaded gown eager to talk to Chase.

"This is Chase Camden," Susan says as the older woman holds her hand out, unaware or unbothered that they just intruded on our foursome. "Chase, this is Rita Allison."

"Oh! Rita!" Chase exclaims, his tone brightening as he puts the face to a name. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

With that, he steps forward, slicing me off from the group entirely. I'm left standing awkwardly with Ainslee and Logan as Chase becomes instantly engrossed in fundraising numbers from last year with Rita.

I can tell Ainslee is waiting for an introduction by the way her gaze lingers expectantly on Chase, but he never glances back.

I shift my attention to Logan instead. "You're at table nine with me. I don't know if you remember Eloise from your party-"

"Oh, I remember her," Logan interrupts, and I feel a flicker of irritation. Of course, he remembers Eloise. She's impossible to forget, the stunning blonde who turns heads effortlessly.

"Well, she's at our table too," I finish quickly, keeping my tone neutral.

Ainslee, meanwhile, seems completely distracted by Chase, even though she's standing here with us. She takes a sip of her champagne, and I notice she looks oddly out of place. Despite her gown, which is undeniably beautiful, something about her feels unfinished, like she's playing dress-up. Her flyaways haven't been tamed, her minimal makeup feels underwhelming for the occasion, and her handbag, which looks suspiciously like it's from Target, clashes with the rest of her outfit. The sapphire choker adds a touch of elegance, but the overall look just doesn't come together.

I force myself to smile at her, desperate for someone- anyone really to pull me away and present a work emergency I can focus on.

"Is this your first gala?" I ask Ainslee politely, trying to fill the silence.

She finally smiles and nods. "It is. I was so nervous that I was going to be underdressed." She giggles, sweeping a hand down the shimmering fabric of her gown. I can't tell if she's being sarcastic or genuine, but fortunately, I don't have to come up with a reply because she quickly adds, "Oh, Logan, guess what?"

Her blue eyes sparkle as she glances my way. "Stella here is now one of my bridesmaids! So, we'll all get to party together next week!"

"Nice," Logan says, finishing the last of his champagne. "So you're coming out on Wednesday with the rest of us, then?"

I nod. "Yes, I was always planning to head down early to make sure everything was organized. I'm also the wedding planner."

"Yeah, Chase mentioned that," Logan says with an easy smile. "Makes sense, seeing that's what you do for a living."

"Now she gets to work and play," Ainslee chimes in with a smirk as if the concept is a novel one. Logan nods like he's completely on board with her assessment. 

"I definitely hope you get to play," Logan says right to me before he turns around to drop his glass on a table. I ignore the weird look and just nod in agreement. 

Chase, finally remembering he has a fiancée, turns back toward us. He grabs Ainslee's hand and gently pulls her away from our trio to join his conversation. I hear him making introductions as my stomach growls, a reminder that I still haven't made it to the damn food line.

"Did you eat?" I ask Logan now that it's awkwardly just the two of us and he shakes his head.

"Nah, wasn't sure how all that worked. Also, I ate before I got here. Catering food is never good," he replies with a glance at the buffet line. I frown, irritated that he's making a dig at my vendor, and reply, "Actually they're local and people rave about them." Logan doesn't look convinced and I don't have the energy to care.

"It's an open bar," I tell him enthusiastically and point off to the mass of people waiting to grab a drink. I freeze as I wonder why is there such a large crowd huddled around the bar. I frown and notice only one bartender is flying around, trying to help dozens of people.

"Uhhh..." I say, confused as to why we only have one bartender when there should be three. I turn to walk toward the long line and Logan follows. I snake around to the back and find the poor man dabbing his head with a cloth.

"Where is your help?" I ask him as he yanks two beers from the ice bucket. He spins around, slides them to the men waiting, and then answers, "No idea. One of 'em was supposed to be getting more glassware and the other said she didn't feel well."

"Great. This is so not good and Susan is going to have my ass for this," I mutter. 

"Is it a basic setup? Beer and wine?" Logan asks and I dart my eyes at him, surprised he followed behind me.

"We have limited alcohol, nothing top shelf," the bartender replies as he pours a glass of red wine. Logan starts to remove his suit jacket and I hold my hand up to stop him.

"What are you doing?"

"I can fill in until the girl comes back," he says while maneuvering his way around me to get behind the bar.

"What? No, Chase would freak if he saw you working the bar," I snap and he shrugs.

"I worked as a bartender all through college. I can handle simple pours," Logan says confidently, stepping behind the bar. The bartender doesn't object, and Logan rolls up his sleeves as he strides to the other side. I watch him lean over to ask two women what they'd like to drink. He gives them a wink and a charming smile, adding a flirty comment that makes the older woman light up. She fawns over him, pretending to be bashful. I shake my head, scanning the room for one of the hired bartenders to return and reclaim their station.

No one approaches to complain about the makeshift bartender, and Logan is already popping tops off glass bottles, clearly in his element. I stifle the urge to march over and tell him he's not allowed to collect any tips, but before I can decide what to do, Eloise strides up to me with purpose.

"I've been looking for you," she announces, and I drop my head back in exasperation.

"Please tell me there isn't another crisis," I groan.

She shakes her head with a small smile. "No, I wanted to eat. Have you gone through the line yet?"

My hand slides over my stomach. "No. I'm starving. Can we please go before someone else finds me?"

Eloise grabs my wrist, glances over my shoulder, and mutters, "Yeah, lemme snag a drink real quick. I am not waiting in that line." Without hesitation, she slips behind the bar and grabs an entire bottle of champagne. I stare at her like she's lost her mind, but she just shrugs nonchalantly.

"We're running this thing, right? We earned it," she says with a mischievous grin.

I hesitate, knowing full well that if Chase saw us, he'd make us put it back. But then again, he did say we were supposed to enjoy ourselves tonight. Against my better judgment, I let it slide. She tugs on my hand, and we dart away from the bar before anyone notices what she's done.

"We can't drink that from the bottle," I whisper as we approach our table. "It's not that kind of party."

"Then let's snag some water cups. This is a twist top, so no one will even hear us open it," she counters.

We huddle together, navigating the room in search of cups, trying to keep our bubbly contraband discreet. We're giggling, but a part of me can't shake the nagging thought that this is a bad idea. I never drink more than one drink at an event we are working and here is Eloise with an entire bottle of cheap champagne.

"Susan will shit if she finds us with this," I tell her. 

"We were technically supposed to be guests after set up. Chase is the one running things tonight," she reminds me but I want to laugh. Chase is schmoozing. That's all he's doing tonight.

"Fine," I agree as she slides two plastic cups off the stack at the water table. "But I am only having one. I need to eat." She waves her hand at me, shooing away my worries. She glances around us before hiding the bottle in front of her while she faces the wall. I watch her lift her elbow and she spins around to hand me a glass filled to the rim.

"Cheers!" She says after filling her own glass and then she hides the bottle under the tablecloth.

"You're leaving that there?"

She nods, "Where else can I hide it safely?" I take a sip of the champagne and I must admit, it helps take the edge off. I knew this gala was going to be a pain in the ass, I don't know why I thought I was actually going to get to enjoy it. She downs half of her glass and then quickly refills it before we leave the table.

"So Logan is hot now right?" She asks me as she glances toward the bar. "You can see that too?" I don't want to admit it because he irritates me, but...

"Yeah, someone had a glow-up."

"Maybe you'll have some fun with him in Mexico," Eloise hints with her perfect eyebrow raised. 

"That would imply I'm going to have any fun in Mexico... which I'm definitely not," I say, taking a long sip. She has no idea how excruciating that trip is going to be for me. Desperate to steer the conversation away from the fact that my work husband is marrying someone else, I quickly gesture toward the buffet.

"Food," I declare, my stomach growling in protest as Eloise and I head toward the food line. But before we make it halfway, Chase slices through the crowd, his expression sharp and irritated.

"Logan is behind the bar," he snaps as if I hadn't noticed.

"I know. He wanted to fill in while the other bartender went to grab glassware," I reply evenly, bracing myself for the inevitable Chase meltdown.

"He can't work this. He's a guest. Why did you allow him back there?" Chase demands, his annoyance spilling over as his eyes dart toward the bar.

I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of Logan still pouring wine, looking entirely too comfortable in his temporary role. "I didn't allow anything, Chase. Logan volunteered, and that was that." I take another sip of champagne, trying to shield myself from Chase's growing frenzy.

When Chase gets frantic, he makes every situation feel like an end-of-the-world situation. He spirals, blowing every inconvenience into a full-blown disaster. Normally, I'd step in, soothe him, and find a practical solution to restore order. Tonight, though? I'm fresh out of patience. 

"It's only for a few minutes, Boss," Eloise chimes in, her tone light. "Logan seemed happy to help."

Chase shakes his head, his frustration unabated. "Oh, I am sure he was. This just looks very unprofessional," he mutters before turning his sharp gaze back to me. "Can you help me find the hired help? This is ridiculous."

I glance at Eloise, knowing full well I'm not making it to the food line anytime soon. Resigned, I gulp down the rest of my champagne and hand her my empty cup.

"Get me a plate, will ya? I'll be back," I tell her and Chase puts an arm around my shoulder to escort me from the ballroom. I'm annoyed with him, but I am now enjoying the closeness. I can smell his cologne and his warmth radiates across my back. I catch a glimpse of us together in a mirror in the hallway and note that we look so good together. My head sitting right below his perfect chin. I wonder if there is a long way to the kitchen? 

As soon as we step into the back room near the kitchens, we are bombarded by Susan. She needs Chase to meet another bigwig, and of course, her timing is impeccable. This woman seems to thrive on interrupting, but I have to stay professional, plastering on a ready-to-help expression like I'm thrilled to drop everything at a moment's notice.

Chase's arm slips away from me as he offers a quick apology, his focus already shifting to Susan's latest demand. His warmth disappears along with him as he strides off, trailing the ever-demanding director back into the ballroom.

I shake my head, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep over me. Moments ago, I was caught up in enjoying the subtle traces of his cologne and the ease of his presence. I scoff. The man just reminded me that I'm here to do a job, to ensure he looks good.

When will I learn? Chase Camden is not my date. He never has been, and he never will be.