“You look great, MJ,” Tiana says as I study myself in the mirror, patting down the dress she let me borrow for the evening.
The floor-length, deep emerald silk gown clings in all the right places and skims down to a slit at my thigh. The neckline dips just enough to hint at cleavage without being over the top, and the thin straps show off my shoulders. The fabric catches the light every time I move, making me look far more glamorous than I feel. Tiana insisted on lending it to me, swearing it was a crime to leave it hanging in her closet.
It’s for the annual charity gala W.H.M. Construction hosts at the swanky Thompson Hotel—a fundraiser for women’s shelters across Seattle. Every year, the event makes headlines. Paparazzi crowd the entrance, hungry for shots of celebrity guests and Seattle’s elite dressed to the nines. Politicians, CEOs, actors, pro athletes—you name it. It’s the kind of event that gets splashed across glossy magazine pages and gossip sites by morning.
All W.H.M. employees are invited and expected to attend, which means I’ll be rubbing elbows with people who practically invented the term “old money.”
Demi whistles low. “Damn, Mya. Forget the celebrities, you’re about to make headlines yourself.”
I giggle, taking one last look in the mirror. For half a second, a ridiculous thought slips in.
What will Mr. Miller think when he sees me like this? I can almost picture him in one of his perfectly tailored suits, handsome enough to make the air shift when he walks into a room, his eyes dragging over me the way they did that day in his office.
Heat climbs up my neck.Snap out of it, Mya.
This is the same man who’s spent weeks grunting at you like you’re an inconvenience.
The same man who cornered me in his office, pressed too close, voice rough as he warned me not to test him. My pulse stumbles when I think back to how dangerous and intoxicating it felt, how a single second of weakness could’ve tipped me over an edge I’m not sure I’d come back from.
Fantasizing about my boss is beyond stupid.
By the time we’re all finished getting ready, my bedroom looks like a tornado hit it. There are makeup brushes scattered across my vanity, bobby pins littering the floor, and three different curling irons cooling on the dresser.
Tiana and Demi insisted on coming over to my place so we could all get ready together. They’re headed out for a girls’ night on the town, while I attend the gala.
“Okay, before we go our separate ways, we’re toasting,” I announce, grabbing a bottle of cabernet and three glasses in the kitchen.
“Hell yes!” Demi cheers.
As I turn my back to them, I hear Tiana rummaging in the drawers. “Do you have a corkscrew?” Then, there’s a startled sound that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“What the hell are these?”
My stomach drops. I know exactly what she’s holding. I spin around and see her clutching the letters I hid away. Tiana’s wide eyes lock on mine, as if I’ve just been caught committing a crime.
Shit.
I find the corkscrew and twist it into the wine bottle, pretending like this moment is perfectly normal.
“Mya.” Her voice is panicked. “Tell me this isn’t real.”
Oh, it’s very real. I’ve been pretending those letters didn’t exist for weeks now, stacking them in drawers, telling myself I’d deal with them later.
But later kept getting pushed back.
First it was finishing my master’s thesis. Then job applications. Then starting at W.H.M. I told myself that once I landed the position, everything would even out. That I’d catch up—but I just didn’t.
Tiana opens one. “Collections?!” she all but shouts, waving the paper like a flag of shame.
Demi blinks. “Wait—what?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, humiliation prickling under my skin. “It’s not a big deal,” I lie, reaching to snatch the letter, but Tiana yanks it out of reach. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
Tiana huffs, frustration lacing her words. “You should’ve told me. You should’ve told Mom. Anyone.”
I force out a tight smile. “I don’t need rescuing, okay? I’m handling it. I’m not working at the cafe anymore. I have a real job now, remember?”
The second the words leave my mouth, I wince.Real job.Willow’sisa real job, and Tiana, Demi and I put in the hours there. My throat tightens. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”