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The dress has already been selected.

He… picked out my dress? If this note is to be believed, Lukas Lazarev walked into some fancy boutique and chose whatI’mgoing to wear to his gala? I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted. Maybe both.

I set the appointment card down next to the credit card. They sit there on my desk like two halves of a puzzle I didn’t ask to solve.

I have no idea what Maison Élise is or where it’s located. I’ve never heard of it, but I’m guessing it’s not a place with a clearance rack.

As I sit and ponder just what on earth is happening to me, Kir’s warning echoes once again in my head:My father collects things he finds interesting.

I’m starting to think Saturday night is when I officially become part of his collection.

17

RAE

From: Rae Everett ([email protected])

To: Jillian Pierce ([email protected])

Subject: You're not gonna believe what just happened...

The millisecond I get home, I dial.

And the millisecond Jillian answers the phone, I start word-vomiting. “Holy shit Bean there was a naked woman and I thought he wasn’t in his office but I went in and there she was and she asked if I was there to sleep with her but I was like oh my god of course not so I ran but then Kir found me but then the woman kissed me but Kir actually apologized can you believe that and then Lukas gave me an envelope and he picked the dress already but I’m still supposed to go to this boutique and there’s a credit card too and have you ever heard of Maison Élise and oh my god please come with me Jillian please I’m freaking out here Jillian please Jillian oh my god what am I going to do?”

I’m panting and wheezing by the time I’m done.

Jillian still hasn’t said a word.

I clear my throat and add squeakily, “This is the part where you tell me everything’s gonna be okay, Jill.”

“First things first,” she replies. “I’m going to need you to take a breath.”

I force myself to take a big, noisy inhale as proof of my compliance. It’s hard, since my lungs feel like they’ve shrunk to the size of walnuts, but I go through the motions anyway.

“Well done. Now, out through your mouth.”

I exhale.

“Good. Again.”

We go through it twice more. The panic starts to recede, just a little.

“Better?” asks Jillian.

“… Marginally.”

“I’ll take it.” I hear rustling on her end. She’s probably settling in for a long conversation. “Now, let’s unpack this disaster one piece at a time. First: I thought I caught the words ‘naked woman’ somewhere in there. Walk me through that juicy little tidbit.”

Moving a little bit slower this time, I tell her everything, the whole mortifying saga. Natasha on the couch. Kir in the stairwell. The fur coat. The kiss. The strawberry-scented lipstick I had to wipe off my face.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jillian cuts me off. “Shekissedyou? On themouth?”

“Did I not make that explicitly clear?”

“Was there tongue?”

“Jillian!”