Chapter 29

29

FIA

I t had been a long time since I’d done this.

I picked a path across the floor of my apartment, careful not to step on any of the invitations, mockups, and blueprint guides I’d been using to help envision the decorations for Heather’s party. I held my phone to my ear, my face squeezed against my shoulder. “That’s right. The ballroom is the main space for the party, so I need at least five trees there, two in the drawing room, and one smaller tree in the cigar room. Yeah, that’s correct. Three o’clock on the twenty-first?” I glanced at my watch, mentally doing the math in my head. “Yeah, that’s fine. That’ll give me enough time to do a walkthrough before the party the next day. Uh huh. Perfect. Thank you!”

I tossed my phone on the couch and rubbed my temples.

I was enjoying this, right? The pressure, the constant movement and attention to detail? This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? What I thought I’d lost after building Jake’s business up from the bottom, doing all of his marketing, and designing his first events?

I’d gone to school for this, after all.

I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. I’d been at this since yesterday afternoon. I worked through the night, got maybe three hours of sleep, and had been up and working since five this morning.

Now, it was noon, and I had a few hours before I needed to get ready to go to that Christmas-tree thing with Mason.

The thought of Mason made my heart squeeze with excitement, which was enough to get moving again.

I was probably just overthinking the whole thing, honestly. Everything was in place. The decorators I’d hired would start tomorrow, transforming Heather’s mansion into a winter wonderland. The catering, music, and entertainment were taken care of. Invitations had been sent out and RSVPs were rolling in.

I could, theoretically, take a break for a few hours. I drummed my fingers on my knees, then shrugged on my coat. I planned on just going for a walk but ended up grabbing my camera. The weight of it felt good in my hands. Familiar. Safe. In a sea of uncertainty, there was one thing I knew I was good at.

I walked to Central Park. It was busy, teeming actually, with locals and tourists alike. Christmas in New York City was one of a kind. It was beautiful in its own, unique way. I sat on a bench with a hot peppermint mocha and started taking pictures.

I didn’t have a goal or theme in mind. I just wanted to capture the feeling in the air today. If it was possible, I wanted the pictures to be a glimpse into the smells, tastes, and emotions of a brisk, gloomy, December day with Christmas right around the corner.

Magic was in the air. I could feel it growing with every turn of my camera’s lens. The thick snow clouds made the Christmas lights stand out even better as I walked through the park. I even convinced a few people to stop, to let me take their portraits, promising to email them when I’d had a second to edit the photos.

But by the time I got back to my apartment, I only had about two hours to get ready for this next event. I was confident I had time to spare, but the moment I closed myself inside, I felt overwhelmed as my eyes scanned the floor and the mountains of party planning materials.

I thought I knew what I wanted. This was my goal, wasn’t it? Be an event planner? Have a massive profile, high-end clients, and money up to the earlobes?

I walked to what was supposed to be a pantry, but I’d taken all the shelving out to hang up my dresses and coats and fished for the blue satin gown I’d worn to the Blue Winter Ball. My fingers brushed over the fabric and I smiled wistfully, remembering that night like it was yesterday. I could wear the dress again and do my hair differently. I would wear the diamond cluster earrings Mason gave me.

My outfit decided upon, I took a quick shower. I wrapped my wet hair in a towel and was busy brushing my teeth when my buzzer went off. I padded to the door, barefoot, wrapped in an old terrycloth robe my mom passed down to me years and years ago, and pressed the call button. “Hello?”

“Delivery for Fia Webster,” a beautiful, sing-song female voice said.

“Oh, uh, I wasn’t expecting anything.” Against my better judgment, I rang her up. It was probably something from Heather. She’d been sending things to my apartment all week in preparation for the party. The chances I’d just let a psycho serial killer into my apartment were slim. Within minutes there was a sharp knock on my door.

I answered, still in my robe, still barefoot, and stepped out into the hallway to find a group of people dressed in what I could only describe as outfits belonging to Santa’s elves but only if they were from the Victorian Era.

My eyes went wide. “Um, what is this?”

The group looked at each other, smiling, and then broke out in song.

I stood there in my robe and watched as a chorus group belted out a song I didn’t know, and it took me a moment to realize it wasn’t a song at all.

“Oh, come all ye merry gentlemen and ladies fair,

To the Christmas Tree Ball, a night beyond compare!

We’ll trim the grandest tree, with ornaments so bright,

Join us for a magical, enchanting night!”

My mouth popped open. My neighbors came out of their apartments to investigate the ruckus, of course. Mrs. Gracey, directly next door, pulled out her ancient flip phone and took a few pictures.

One of the men in the back stepped forward with a large, velvet green envelope and handed it to me. A second caroler pulled a garment box out of thin air, I was pretty sure, and stacked it in my open arms.

“What is going on?” I laughed, choking on the words in utter disbelief.

But the carolers had done their job and sauntered off without saying another word. I turned to look at my neighbors, who shrugged off the strange ordeal like it was just another day in the city and stuff like that happened all the time.

I backed into my apartment, shutting the door with my foot. I set the garment box on my messy dining-room table and weighed the envelope in my hands before ripping it open.

I read it aloud. “It would be my pleasure if you attended my ball tonight on the Museum Mile. Bring an ornament and have your checkbooks ready, it will be a night to remember, or not, depending on how much Dom Perrier you drink.

“P.S. Any mention of Heather Schuyler and her haughty party later this week will get you kicked to the street.”

I smirked, chuckling as I read the note again and again. I found the rivalry between Abigail and Heather to be completely entertaining, especially since I asked Heather personally about it, and she said she and Abigail were the best of friends.

My eyes scanned the invite one more time before I set it down, but then I remembered the garment box. Curiosity seeped into every pore as I slowly pulled the red velvet length of ribbon holding it together and pulled up the lid. Then I gasped.

There was a note from Mason.

“ I thought you’d like this. See you tonight. -M ”

My heart skipped a beat as I pulled the shiny, emerald green fabric from the box. It was a dress—strapless, sleeveless—the same kind I’d worn to our last event, but it was a masterpiece in comparison. It was completely covered in crystal beading, the emerald beads inlaid with gold. My chest heaved as I let the fabric unfurl to the floor, revealing a full skirt.

A freaking ball gown.

The underskirt was still in the box. I looked down at the dress in my hand, then pressed it to my chest, squealing with delight.

My phone rang on the couch. I hopped over to it, knocking over several piles of planning materials in the process.

“Mason, what have you done?” I said into the phone, stifling an excited scream.

“So, you didn’t completely hate the carolers?”

I imagined him looking smug and proud of himself as he leaned back in his chair, probably still at his office across town.

“Um, that was a little shocking, to be honest.” I draped the dress over the couch to get a better look at it. “My neighbors loved it, but I’m pretty sure one of them has a picture of me in a bathrobe now.”

“You were in a robe?”

I nodded enthusiastically even though he couldn’t see me. “I’m getting ready now!”

“Why don’t I send Rex over to pick you up? You can get ready at my place. I’m about to head home anyway.”

“You’re leaving your office early?” I asked. “Who are you?”

“A man with a girlfriend, apparently.”

My heart stopped. I was sure his did, too. He cleared his throat, and I bit my lip. Nervously, I teased, “Who’s your girlfriend? I’d love to meet her.”

He chuckled, blowing out his breath. “I’m sure I’ll see her tonight. She’s supposed to be wearing this green gown with gold accents.”

I smiled to myself as I brushed my fingers through the beading. “Send Rex. I’ll have all my stuff gathered to get ready at your place in half an hour. I’m going to dry my hair really quickly. I’ll need your help getting into the dress, anyway.”

“He’ll be there soon.”

I had the sudden, overwhelming urge to tell him I loved him before I hung up the phone. It felt like the natural thing to do. But I didn’t. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from saying anything I’d regret.

Did I love him? Was that what this ache was? This all-consuming feeling in my chest whenever he was around?

It was something new, something I’d never, ever felt before. I used to tell Jake I loved him, sure, but had I? Had I ever felt like this for anyone other than Mason?

I quickly gathered a bag with my makeup and hair tools. I put the dress away and packed some clothes to sleep in, in the event I spent the night at Mason’s apartment, which I desperately hoped would be the case. I buzzed Rex up to my apartment exactly half an hour later, and he helped me carry everything down to the car. Before I knew it we were zooming off to midtown, the city a wash of snow and Christmas lights.

Tonight felt like the beginning of something.

I hoped I was right.