Page 101 of Suite 7

The blue one? Too casual. Like I’m not taking this seriously.

The emerald green? Too bold. Too look at me.

That leaves the wine-colored dress hanging at the end. Silk, knee-length, with a subtle v-neck that suggests without announcing. Elegant. Sophisticated. But soft in a way I don’t usually let myself be.

I pull it on, smooth it over my hips, and study my reflection.

For Kane, I want to be soft.

I stop. Lipstick wand halfway to my mouth. I look at myself in the mirror like I’m waiting for her to explain herself. When did that happen? When did I start wanting to be soft for a man?

My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter.

Sloane’s name lights up the screen.

My stomach drops. I let it ring once more, then guilt wins.

“Hey,” I answer.

“I’m having a meltdown about this work project and I need your brain.” She sounds harried. “Can you come over? I could use your eyes and opinions. And honestly, I need to be in the same room as someone who isn’t my laptop.”

Oh no.

“I actually—” I scramble. “I have plans tonight.”

“Plans? What kind of plans?”

“Dinner plans.”

“OH MY GOD.” Her entire tone shifts. “With Gerald?”

“Maybe.”

She squeals. Actually squeals. “Vera! Where is he taking you? What are you wearing? Have you⁠⁠—”

“Sloane, I need to finish getting ready⁠⁠—”

“Fine, fine. But you’re calling me tomorrow with every single detail. Promise?”

The lie tastes like ash. “Promise.”

“Have so much fun! And Vee?” Her voice softens. “I’m happy for you.”

She hangs up.

I stand there for a moment with the phone face-down on the bathroom counter, lipstick wand still in my hand.

I’m happy for you.

She said it like a gift. Like she was handing me something that cost her nothing because she didn’t know the price. And I took it.

I pick up the lipstick. Finish my mouth, and look at myself in the mirror.

I look exactly like someone who just lied to her best friend and is about to have a beautiful evening anyway.

My phone buzzes again.

Gerald: Leaving now. Be there in fifteen.