2. Chapter 2

S omething was off. I stared at the mockup until I went cross-eyed. Holding it up to the floor-to-ceiling window to let the sun shine behind the print, I tried to see if that could illuminate the problem.

The perfume had given me a headache from its conception. Though smells were always hard to convey through media. Even still, there was something about this particular brand by a TikTok influencer that wasn't sitting right.

My office phone chirped in the tone that came from in-house calls. I ignored it as I continued to examine every millimeter of the mockup. It was one of many graphics that, upon approval, would be turned into a thirty-second filmed ad. These mockups wouldn't be used in the videos, though they would give us something to match. We would need the photos for graphics on websites and social media as well. The font was perfect, the aesthetic matched the product—the face, it was in the face somewhere.

While scrutinizing the face, my phone chirped again, and I made no move to answer it. It was Saturday, and my approval deadline was coming up fast. If I had any revisions that needed to be done, I had to submit the request ASAP.

A knock sounded on my door. I threw my hands up in frustration and yelled, "What?"

The door to my office slowly inched open while my assistant peered around it. "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Marten, but you gave me strict instructions to check in."

I tried to think past the ache in my head to recall what I had him checking in for when I saw it. "The eyes!"

Paul stepped fully into my office and let the door close behind him. "Pardon?"

I smacked the mockup with the back of my hand. "The eyes are wrong. Look at this, doesn't this give you uncanny valley feels?"

My assistant crossed the room to look at the print in my hand. His nose wrinkled as he looked at it. "Agreed. Feels off."

"That's because she gave us a photo that she'd used a filter on." It might have been subtle, but after all the careful work we did with it to create the graphic, it gave the eyes an almost android-like lifelessness.

"Excuse me, boss, but the wedding? "

I slapped the ad on my desk. "A fucking filter. We have the best designers and artists available that can make anything out of anything, and she puts a fucking filter on it."

"The wedding?" Paul repeated, only this time I heard it.

"Wedding? What wedding?"

"Your sister's wedding. You made me promise not to let you be late. And, at this point, you're going to be cutting it close."

"Fuck!" I checked my smartwatch, only to confirm I was behind schedule. I should have been dressed and on my way already. With another glance at the mockup, I cursed again.

"This needs to go back to design immediately. The effects of the filter need to be reversed. I better not see a single sparkle where it shouldn't be. No one leaves until I approve."

"Of course. Where do you want them to send it?"

My head cocked at the question; the answer seemingly obvious. "My email, as always."

"But you'll be at the wedding?" Paul asked carefully.

"It's fine. Send it when it's done."

My assistant let out a long, slow whistle, which cut off when I gave him a sharp look. "What?"

He clasped his hands behind his back and bore a hint of a smirk. "Nothing. I just wouldn't want to be in your shoes when your sister sees your laptop. "

This unnecessary delay had me frustrated, and having to leave before knowing it was done was even worse. I couldn't waste any more time on this discussion than I already had. "My shoes are just fine, thank you. You're dismissed."

Paul opened his mouth, but wisely shut it and began walking out of my office.

"Oh, Paul?"

He looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Sure thing, boss." He gave me a slight smile before closing the door behind him.

With him gone, I closed the horizontal blinds on the windows that connected to the hallway beyond it, as well as the ones for the outside windows, and opened the built-in cabinet that lined one wall. One long door held a small closet with a rack for hangers and shelves for shoes and accessories. I often worked long hours and had to have a change of clothes available, especially if I needed to meet a client or the executive board for dinner after work.

My suit for the wedding hung inside. While the dark sage wasn't my normal color, it would complement the theme of the wedding without competing with the groom or his party.

I had to admit that I had felt a little slighted when I learned I wouldn't be a part of the groomsmen or bridal party. After all, Carmen had Adam as her bride's man of honor, not that I begrudged him that. The two had been roommates in school, back in Boston, and she had been there for him when he came out and got to start living authentically as himself. I was proud of Carmen for being there for him and loved that he knew he had a place at her side, no matter the title he carried.

Even still, it stung not to get asked. But then, I didn't have time for the extra duties involved, especially with this big client and the deadline that had been set for the perfume ad. She had probably been right in keeping me out of it. At this point, I would be lucky if I made it in time. I took another glance at my watch. "Fuck!"

After changing and driving as quickly as I could get away with, I made it to the winery with minutes to spare. I tucked my smaller tablet into the inside pocket of my suit jacket. At least it would be less obvious than carrying my briefcase.

My mom stood in the lobby greeting guests. She looked lovely with her silver hair done up, and the dusty rose dress she wore with a cream corsage pinned to it. Her smile faltered and her green eyes darted to the clock when she saw me enter.

"Sorry, mom. Tight deadline." I kissed her cheek.

"Hmm. You know what else has a tight deadline? Wedding vows. We've been planning this for a year and a half, and you stroll in two minutes before we are supposed to start. "

"Can we not right now? You know I have responsibilities."

She sighed heavily. "You're right. Now is not the time."

"You look beautiful."

At that, she smiled and flattened her hand over the lapel. "Thank you, Derek. You look very sharp yourself. It's just too bad you don't have someone to decorate your arm, though."

My head fell back as I groaned in frustration. "I'm fine, mom."

"You keep saying that."

A pluck of the harp sounded, announcing it was time for everyone to take their seats. Thank God for that. This was a subject that we went round and round on. And yeah, I knew it would come up with Carmen getting married, but I didn't want to go into my love life—or lack therof.

"Are you ready to see your only daughter get married?"

At that, her eyes turned misty, and a smile filled with emotions stretched across her face. "Yes and no. But mostly yes…about ninety-six percent yes."

I held my arm out for her, and she hooked her arm through it. We lined up at the doorway that led outside to the aisle with filled seats on either side of it. When the music started, we walked side by side as I escorted her to the front row on the left. Once she was seated, I took my place beside her, as we waited for Steve's mother and grandmother to be seated on the groom's side .

Steve stood at the altar, bouncing from foot to foot. He looked like a kid waiting for an autograph from his favorite Disney character. It was sweet to see. That eagerness for the person who would be his partner for the rest of his life, hopefully. Even after the three years they had been together, he was still this excited to see my sister.

An unexpected pang of jealousy hit me that I wasn't sure what to do with. I'd never had anything or anyone that made me feel like he appeared to. Just like I'd told my mom, I was fine being single. I scratched the itch every once in a while, but it had been getting longer and longer in between hookups. Really long. Shit , it might have been a few years since the last time I got physical with someone. I was simply too busy. Why waste a night trying to find someone compatible simply to get off when I could do that at home? When I needed to feel something other than my own hands, toys were a wonderful thing. I was fine.

The groomsmen escorted the bridesmaids down the aisle. The groom's man of honor proudly hooked his arm through Adam's as the two moved through the crowd. Adam took his place, standing tall, taller than I'd ever seen him. He seemed to radiate in his suit. I got it; a good suit made you feel powerful and sexy, but I imagined even more so for someone who had been assigned a different gender at birth. His euphoria shone out of him, and he looked…hot. At this moment in time, Adam was totally my type. There was nothing sexier than someone who was unapologetically themself. Too bad he was the hyper, annoying best friend of my younger sister.

There was a shift in the music, an indication it was time to stand. My mom clutched my hand as we turned to face the back and saw Carmen and my dad standing there. My mom gasped and covered her mouth with her free hand. I drew out my pocket square and handed it to her. She dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. My eyes clouded a little as they proceeded slowly between the rows of family and friends.

Carmen beamed when she saw me. I offered a big smile, doing my best to hold back a tear. I was not a crier. I didn't even like the whole hullabaloo of weddings. All that fuss simply for someone to continue being with the person they were already with. Squandering away the money for one single day had always seemed asinine to me. But… seeing my baby sister look the happiest I had ever seen her, in a beautiful gown while holding a cascading bouquet, I could admit that it stirred something in me.

I let my gaze slide to Steve, who watched the woman he loved approach, and damn , if the way he looked at her couldn't melt icebergs. Fuck me ! Why were my eyes leaking? My mom handed my handkerchief back to me, and I did a quick swipe at my eyes before placing it back in her hand.

The ceremony was short, but it was beautiful. My watch buzzed a couple of times with notifications during it, but I knew my mom would kill me if I checked it. When they were announced as husband and wife, I might have stolen the handkerchief back for a brief moment, but would fiercely deny it if asked. I met my mom's watery eyes, and she nodded, as if to say that my secret was safe with her. It wasn't that I didn't think men should be allowed to cry; it was that I didn't want to accept that it had affected me so deeply. She was my sister, though, and I blamed my mother's emotions overflowing and catching me in their spray.

The newlyweds came down to meet the immediate family. After she hugged our parents, Carmen threw her arms around my neck. I squeezed her back and whispered, "I'm so happy for you, Car. Congratulations!"

"Thank you! Can you believe I'm officially Mrs. Barry? Carmen Barry sounds pretty fucking good, doesn't it?"

"It sure does."

"Save a dance for me, okay?"

A grumble sat in the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down. I did not dance. But it was her day; I could do this for her. "Sure thing, sis."

After photos—so many fucking photos—it was finally time for the reception that was set up in a different part of the vineyard's exterior. It was picturesque, with twinkling lights in the trees and strings of lights overhead. The flower arch that had been used as the backdrop during the ceremony was moved and placed behind the bride and groom' s table, making a nice frame as they sat in front, facing all the guests. The attention to detail was impressive.

Details were important. My job centered around details. Taking a seat at my table, I finally got a chance to check the emails that had sat there for longer than I intended. If they had finished but were stuck burning the clock simply because I hadn't let them go yet, well, that was completely on me.

An email flagged urgent was labeled with ‘ Approval Required .'

I glanced around before pulling out my tablet to open the email, needing a bigger screen than my phone. Drawing in a deep breath, I clicked on the attached image. At first glance, it looked okay…better, at least—but something still didn't feel right. Zooming in on her eyes, they somehow looked more animated than before, and not in a lifelike way, but in a cartoony way.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I mumbled, perhaps a little louder than I intended, considering the grimace on the face of an elderly woman that I didn't recognize.

After typing out a reply to the design team, I messaged Paul.

Me: Tell me again that our team is the best.

Paul: Our team is the best.

Me: Then why can't they see what I'm seeing? !

Paul: Must be all your years of wisdom and experience.

Me: I know that's meant to be an insult, but it seems to be true if a group of professionals can't make her eyes look human.

Paul: Maybe she doesn't want to look human.

I inhaled deeply and let it out, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Me: Do you know what I'm doing right now?

Paul: I'd like to hope you're enjoying your sister's wedding and not scowling so hard it's gonna turn into a headache.

The pain was already brewing, but I dropped my hand and made a face at my phone. Why did Paul have to know how to read me so well? But then he got paid handsomely to be my right hand, so he better damn well know how to read me.

Me: The two are not mutually exclusive.

Paul: What can I do to help?

Me: Get me a good, workable, HUMAN graphic ASAP! I don't care if someone has to go to her house and get an unfiltered photo where she doesn't look like an alien or a sparkly vampire. And I want it in my inbox in an hour.

Paul: Got it. Now go unfurl your brows and enjoy yourself. We've got everything covered .

My phone was returned to my pocket and my tablet got tucked away, again just in time for a shadow to cast over me. Carmen stared down at me with a questioning look.

"What are you scowling about? It's my wedding day, which makes this a scowl-free zone."

"I wasn't scowling," I bit out through gritted teeth. First Paul, now her.

Her finger pointed at my face. "See that face, right there…scowl.

Forcing a smile, I asked, "Better?"

Carmen let out a laugh. "I'm not sure it is. In fact, if I weren't your sister, I might find you scary. Good thing I am, though. You can't be scary when I've seen you eat Cheerios off the floor."

She loved to bring that up. I rolled my eyes. "It was one time . And it was a tragic event. It was the end of the box, and I bumped my bowl. Besides…ten-second rule."

My sister let out a laugh. "See, not so scary."

Drawing my lips back, I snarled at her.

Carmen snickered. "Nice try. I gotta go find my husband. Doesn't that just sound amazing? Husband ? I think I've said it fifty times already, and it hasn't really sunk in yet."

"It sounds pretty good, sis. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you. Now, it wouldn't kill you to show some of that happiness. And I know this might be a foreign concept to you, but maybe try to have a little fun. You know what that is, right? Fun? Maybe you'll even meet someone, fool around, and relieve some of that tension you're carrying."

"Fuck, first mom, and now you? I'm fine !" It came out a little sharper than I intended. "Sorry, Car, she just gets under my skin. At what point does it end? Because apparently, at thirty-eight, I haven't reached it yet."

Her face softened. "I know. It used to be me, but now that I have a husband , she finally stopped. Speaking of…I gotta find Steve."

She wiggled her fingers at me and sauntered off, leaving me at the table by myself.

Trying not to check my emails constantly for updates, I sat back in my chair and scanned the venue. Groups of people clustered together with drinks sloshing in their hands as they laughed.

I could do that. Join a group and chitchat, but the idea of making small talk or hearing about their kids, or about Uncle Robby's bad hair implants, was enough to make me cringe and stay firmly planted in my seat.

It wasn't that I didn't care about what they had to say, it was just that I'd heard it all before. With social media and everyone sharing every minute detail of their lives, why should I pretend polite interest in hearing about something I saw two weeks ago? No thanks.

Unfortunately, checking my smartwatch didn't make my team work any faster. I let out a heavy sigh and rubbed my temple. I didn't think to pack any pain meds, so I did the next best thing and headed over to the bar. After hearing more than I wanted to about the special wine-based cocktails made from the winery's label, I opted for my usual; whiskey neat. Leaning against the wall beside the bar, I took a sip, holding it in my mouth for a moment before swallowing.

My observation of the event continued as I watched the groups and couples interact. My gaze slid over to the dance floor, where Carmen and Steve were jumping and swishing together. They looked ridiculously smitten with each other. I was happy for them, truly. Carmen was my favorite person, even if we gave each other crap. She deserved to be with someone that brought her this much joy.

My sister waved and shouted at someone before leaving her husband to pull them to the dance floor. I didn't recognize them, but their magenta hair caught and held my attention. Sure, I'd seen lots of folks with colored hair, so it didn't usually faze me. But it was the combination of the bright color that grabbed me as well as the radiant smile I could practically feel the warmth of even thirty feet away.

The song changed as soon as they had gotten to the center. It was one of those upbeat party songs with directions for the steps. On the rare occasion I was forced into dancing, those were the kinds of songs I didn't totally hate, because at least there were rules that told you what to do. I could follow directions, but put me on the dance floor and simply tell me to feel the music and move, and I locked up, not sure what to do with myself.

That was clearly not a problem for the pink-haired person who wore a lavender short-sleeve button-up hung open over a white tee. They moved as if the music was written into their DNA, every part of their body moving precisely with them. Not just the steps that were being called out, but with so much added flair and style, all while sporting a smile that showed they truly were enjoying the moment, blissfully caught up in it.

Carmen held their hand as they laughed and they glowed even brighter. I was hypnotized by the way their round belly bounced with every move as they danced with abandon. So free, so vivacious, so…sexy. For all my desires to avoid the dance floor at all costs, I suddenly found myself wishing I was right in the middle of it to bask in their light.

My watch buzzed against my wrist and I was finding it hard to pull my gaze away to check it. However, with the perfume ad deadline pressing in, duty forced my attention. When I tilted my watch, I saw an email from the design department titled, ‘ Waiting for approval .'

Throwing back the rest of my whiskey, I glanced toward the dance floor to catch the magenta hair wave one more time before I ducked inside the winery and found my way to a less-crowded area. I pulled out the tablet I'd tucked into my interior jacket pocket and opened the email. Zooming in on the graphics, I scrutinized every detail, wishing I had my laptop or a bigger screen. It was enough, though. The obvious flaw that had been staring me in the face and stealing my soul was gone. I stretched my fingers across, pulling the image as big as it could get before it got too pixelated.

After resetting the photo so I could see the full image, everything looked right. There was no more uncanny valley effect, which had made it look slightly inhuman. It was good. Thank God ! I shot back a quick email and tucked my tablet away, trading it for my phone to send a text to Paul.

Me: Well done. Send everything over to the client's agent.

Paul: Great! It's been a little intense over here. The team worked their asses off to get this right.

They might not have had to if they had noticed it in the first place , I thought to myself. But the job was done, thankfully.

Me: Tell them all to go home and get some rest. This is only step one, now the real work begins.

Paul: Will do. Maybe now you can unplug and enjoy the rest of the wedding.

The image of the person dancing with my sister immediately came to mind. I didn't know what I wanted or hoped to happen, except that I needed to see that smile again.

Me: Unplugging. Have a good weekend, Paul .

With that, I put my phone away and drew a breath, determined to do… something . Except when I walked back outside and my eyes went right to the dance floor, there was a very pronounced lack of the person who had caught my eye. Instead, I saw Carmen dancing with her bestie, Adam, and the rest of the bridal party. A strange sense of loss hit me, one I had no right to feel. I scanned the surrounding area, hoping to catch sight of the magenta hair, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Of course . It was just my luck to find the one person who caught my eye aside from the best friend of my little sister, and they disappeared. I straightened and flattened my hands down the front of my suit, pressing out any wrinkles, imagined or otherwise. Today wasn't about me, anyway. It was about my now-married sister. I strode forward, bracing myself to cross the border of the wooden dance floor.

Reaching Carmen, I tapped her on the shoulder. "Can I cut in? I owe the bride a dance."