The invitation landed on Aria's desk with a smug post-it note attached.
"Wear something that won't start a fight. – E."
She snatched it up with a groan.
The Sutton Hotels Charity Gala.
Aria hated these things. Too many forced smiles, champagne she couldn't pronounce, and fake-laughing at rich people's terrible jokes. And now, thanks to Lawson's brilliant idea of presenting the campaign mock-ups live at the event, she was stuck attending — with Ethan.
Friday night arrived too soon.
Aria smoothed down her deep green satin dress, eyeing herself in the mirror of the event hall's marble bathroom. Hair: decent. Makeup: on point. Inner rage? Contained… for now.
She made her way toward the ballroom, already mentally preparing her escape plan when she spotted him.
Ethan Cole, leaning casually against the bar in a perfectly tailored black suit, hair slightly mussed, and — damn it — looking annoyingly good. He caught sight of her and did a double take.
"Well, well," he said as she reached him, giving her a slow once-over. "You clean up nice, Lane."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Don't get used to it."
"Too late."
They presented their campaign concept to the room — and it landed. Applause. Smiling execs. Mr. Lawson giving them a proud nod. Everything was going so smoothly, Aria almost forgot to be annoyed.
Until the music started.
A classic ballroom number. Elegant couples gliding across the floor.
And of course, Ethan appeared at her elbow, offering his hand.
"Nope," Aria said immediately.
"Oh, come on, Lane," he teased. "You can survive one dance without stabbing me, right?"
"I make no promises."
But the room was watching, and saying no would make her look difficult. With a dramatic sigh, she took his hand.
They stepped onto the floor, and Aria realized two things:
One, Ethan was an annoyingly good dancer.
And two, her heart was absolutely betraying her.
He spun her easily, grinning down at her. "See? Not so bad."
"I'm counting down the seconds."
"Admit it — you're having fun."
"Nope."
"You smiled. I saw it."
"That was a grimace."
Ethan leaned in, voice low near her ear. "It looked good on you."
Aria's stomach did an unwelcome flip. She pulled back to glare at him, which only made him grin wider.
"You're insufferable," she muttered.
"And yet… here you are."
The song ended, but neither of them let go right away.
For a second too long, they stood there, his hand on her waist, her fingers curled around his. The rest of the room blurred. The fight, the rivalry, the war — all of it paused.
And then a waiter bumped into them, sending champagne splashing onto Aria's dress.
She gasped.
Ethan winced. "Damn. You okay?"
Aria glanced down at the stain, then at his horrified face… and burst out laughing.
Real, full-body, can't-stop kind of laughter.
Ethan stared, then laughed too.
"Guess it's your turn for a wardrobe disaster," he joked.
"Guess so."
For once, it didn't feel like war. It felt like something else entirely.
And that was far more dangerous.....