chapter 3

What ava said

We are going to an important events Damien said without looking up

Yh

By 7:00 PM, Ava was dressed in a gown she borrowed from her cousin—a slinky navy number that made her feel like an underdressed fish at a fancy aquarium. Her makeup was... decent. Her hair was... controlled chaos.

Damien, on the other hand, looked like a magazine cover that had been airbrushed by angels.

“Stop staring,” he said as she gawked at him in the limo.

“I’m not staring. I’m appreciating,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”

He side-eyed her. “Try to speak like an adult human tonight.”

“I am an adult human.”

“Debatable.”

---

At the gala, people were swarming like bees in tuxedos. Ava clung to Damien’s side like a shy decorative plant.

A tall woman in diamonds gave her a fake smile. “And you are?”

“Oh. I’m Ava. Mr. Blackwood’s—uh—emergency date-slash-coffee-fetcher.”

The woman blinked. Damien sighed.

“She’s my assistant,” he said. “She also apparently moonlights as a stand-up comedian.”

The woman walked off with a sniff. Ava whispered, “Was she important?”

“She owns a chain of luxury spas.”

“Oh. Cool. I shaved my legs for this.”

Damien nearly choked on his champagne.

---

The night spiraled from there.

A waiter tripped, launching shrimp cocktail into the air like a seafood firework. It landed—of course—on Ava.

A guest tried to flirt with her, thinking she was “part of the entertainment.” She spilled water down his trousers in response.

Then came the toast.

Damien stepped up to speak. Ava stood behind him, smiling politely... until her heel got stuck in the carpet. She tried to free it discreetly.

She failed.

She face-planted into the podium.

The mic screeched. The room gasped. Damien paused, glanced down, and muttered, “Why are you like this?”

From the floor, Ava whispered, “Send help.”

---

On the ride home, silence settled like fog.

Until Damien muttered, “You dropped a shrimp in my pocket.”

Ava covered her face. “This is why I don’t get invited to weddings.”

“I can see why.”

Then... he laughed.

Not a smirk. Not a twitch.

An actual laugh.

It was low, unexpected, and weirdly hot.

She looked at him. “You laughed.”

“I regret it already,” he muttered.

---

Back at her apartment, she stepped out of the limo, turned, and gave him a cheesy salute.

“Thanks for the shrimp memories, boss.”

He rolled his eyes. But for a second—just one—he looked like he wasn’t completely made of ice.

And that second stuck with her all night.

Chapter 4

Ava hadn’t even made it to her desk when it hit her.

The whispering.

The side-eyes.

The suspicious smirks.

“Something’s wrong,” she whispered to herself, clutching her bag like it might protect her from office gossip

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