There I was, sitting under the bright full moon. The light covered his face, the silver in his eyes tugging on my heartstrings. The thoughts in my head bouncing around, as if they’d been forced into a tight box.

What if I let him in? I pondered, That’s what he wants right? Maybe I was being too much of a coward, what if- 

I felt my body get up off the bench, beginning to walk away.

Was that really who I was? The one prepared to walk away from a fight? 

I woke up to the sound of my blaring ringtone. It was Lyra. 

“Planning on waking up anytime soon?” she sounded cautiously concerned. I could only grunt in response. The white light seeped through the opaque curtains, my eyes felt like they were sunk into my skull, dry and still heavy with sleep.  Squinting as hard as I could, I looked over to my bedside table at the glaring clock.

10:30, it read…

10:30? 

It hit me like a pile of bricks that I was late, and I flung myself out of the covers. I’d never been late in my life! What was wrong with me?

Hopping into the shower, I followed through; multi-tasking my routine and was back out in ten minutes’ tops. I threw open my wardrobe and settled for the classic white button-up blouse and a beige pencil skirt. You couldn’t go wrong with white and beige.

I stuffed my feet into my heels and made a run for the door, making sure to pour Holly her food and pat her head. She barked after me but I could only shoot her an apologetic look before I locked the door.

The ride to the office was rushed as I floored it, hoping I wouldn’t get into an accident. I had a few more interviews with Jean-Pierre’s potential matches before I was free for Mrs. Beaumont’s party and whoever had come to inquire for her services. It was strange that Mrs. Beaumont never mentioned who they were. Surprises weren’t all bad, right?

It was 11am by the time I got there. Aaron Wiler seemed like a patient guy but in the world of dating and marriage, people knew how to keep up a good front.

“Thank God, you’re here!” Lyra said as I fell into her view from the elevator, “Mr. Wiler’s been-”

“I know.” I sighed, “Thanks for keeping him distracted. I got this.”

Aaron seemed like a nice guy. A little too observant of his surroundings, steel rimmed spectacles, and a discerning sense of accessorising. He’d graduated from Yale in Political-Science, a lover of classical instruments and animals, and often indulged in long getaways to strikingly beautiful nature spots. He was, though, a rebel in his own way. A lover of arts, he fought his parents against inheriting their business and aimed to be a photographer and illustrator, often drawing his takes on religious figures and popular literature. He was quite famous for it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” I shook my head in disdain and took my seat.

“I know, you’re usually punctual.” he smiled at me, “I occasionally sleep through my own alarm sometimes.”

“Huh?” I challenged playfully, “I read your piece on resetting one’s biological clock whilst out in nature. You’d abandoned your electronics for about a month?”

“Human beings are diverse in nature.” he sounded pleased to be talking about this, “I’m nocturnal like eighty-percent of the population. Forcing ones-self out of such cycles has proven harmful to us.”

“Oh.” I perked up with interest, “Is that why you’ve been holding campaigns for companies to introduce night work schedules?”

“Exactly.” he nodded, “It could increase productivity and profits up to fifty percent just by doing so.”

“You’re quite the researcher, huh?”

“As is Jean-Pierre, I hope?” he inquired nervously and I smiled at him. He seemed like a sweet guy, and the strongest contender for Jean-Pierre as a long-lasting partner. I liked this guy.

“He’s got a broad interest in arts...furniture, particularly. He states that he likes homes.”

“We’ll only know when we talk, I guess.”

“I understand there may be some intimidation regarding his financial standing being much higher than yours,” I noted while going through Aaron’s section of questions, “but trust me, he’s one helluva sweet guy and has enough in the bank to live out a few lifetimes. And he’s keen on gift-giving. Although, your love-language is more reliant on verbal affirmations. Hmm…”

“Will that be an issue?”

“Not if it’s communicated and comprehended properly,” I assured him, “Then again, things like this take a while to figure out, if you’re willing to put in the effort.”

“I’ve been looking for a partner myself for a few years.” he admitted, “I just couldn’t really...connect with anyone as deeply as I would’ve liked to.”

I smiled at him reassuringly, “That’s where I come in to help.”

Looking into the wardrobe pushed my anxiety through the roof. I knew I needed to stand out tonight, but after the ruckus Blair had caused online with my story, there was no knowing what insider reporters would make of me wearing my usual party attire. Was it reasonable to want the world to swallow me up whole? Perhaps not.

People cared for me and supported me. Those outside of it did not matter. I had a spotless record for myself with hundreds of clients to back me up. I knew I was safe.

Why did I feel the need to make myself so small?

My eyes watered just thinking about the slightest possibility of being glanced at and judged. It’s not like it had never happened before with jealous women, but I couldn’t understand why it was affecting me so much now. Had Blair really struck a nerve? Perhaps. She’d tried to sabotage the years I had spent on both my company and personal image afterall.

Honestly, my career was the only thing I had left that was mine. Without it, I wouldn’t have much else.

Shaking my head out of the self-pity party, I encouraged myself with determination.

A bitch like Blair can’t ruin you, I reminded myself, She’ll fuck herself over well before that can happen.

And I knew I was right. Blair was truly an idiot, a desperately insecure girl trying to find people to step on because she’s too impatient to make her own empire. She wouldn’t get that satisfaction from me, though. Eyeing the clothes in my closet, I reached out for the blood red Zuhair Murad dress. It was a beautiful two-piece set. A low cut chiffon dress that bandaged around my waist and draped down fluidly to my ankles. It had a slit down the thigh and as a finishing touch, came with a gorgeous velvet cape to keep me warm. I’d fallen in love with this dress from the very first moment I’d set my eyes on it.

I looked in the mirror, convincing myself that it was not over the top. It was so funny how much of an outsider I felt, even though I was well within their financial ranks. Maybe it was my past? I didn’t get it. I had never been able to connect on a personal level with the elite.

My hand unconsciously reached for my hair and I stopped myself, my hand hovering over the clip.

Should I really let my hair down?

Tremors ran through my arm as the indecisiveness stabbed at me, and I knew I needed help. There was only one person who could help me right now.

“Lilith?”

“Aubrey, I’m stuck…” I sighed, but I sounded close to tears. I couldn’t believe something I’d prepared for a hundred times before was pushing me to the verge of a breakdown.

I could hear her gasp and a rustle. “Lilith, are you okay?” it was Jenna, “What’s going on? Should we come to you?”

“No, no…” I shook my head in an attempt to push the bile back down my throat, “It’s just...this dress I’m wearing and my hair and...I’m so scared.”

“LILITH NO!” Aubrey screamed from faraway. Jenna only sighed.

“Listen, I get what this is about but in the little time I’ve had to know you, I’ve never met anyone who is stronger or more honest.” she coaxed sincerely, “You’re going to let a loser like Blair outshine you? In front of my dear Mrs. Beaumont? How do you think your mentor would feel?”

Jenna was right. This wasn’t about me anymore. I had Mrs. Beaumont’s image to preserve, too. I suddenly knew what I had to do.

“You’re right…” I breathed into the phone, “Jenna, you’re amazing. Thank you.”

“Anytime, ma chérie.” I could feel her encouraging smile through the phone, “Now go show them who’s boss.”

I turned to the mirror and let my hand pull the clip away from my dark hair, letting it cascade down my shoulders in silky, bouncy waves.

I was ready.

Breathtaking was the only word I could find to describe the place.  The fountain before the entrance emitted a warm glow, softly reflecting off the water in little slivers of gold. The ancient mansion with its Gothic style turrets and parapets twinkled with little lights. The sound of orchestral music drifted outside from somewhere below the ground. People made their way into the mansion, a clamor of excited voices all around.

I kept my eyes peeled for the girls, phone in hand in case they called. Jenna’s presence only confirmed that Cristo would be there. I hoped the two had managed to get their parents to reconcile with each other already. Cristo and Jenna were tight as cousins and I knew how much it hurt her to know there was family she was deliberately kept away from.

Blair would be here too, unfortunately. After all, Mrs. Beaumont was holding this dinner party for her brother and wife. Also, she was still Cristo’s girlfriend.

I prayed to whatever deity was up there that I didn’t see her face. I wouldn’t want to accidentally rip it off and go to jail at the height of my career.

Spotting Jenna in the crowd, I waved my hand towards her. Aubrey popped out from right behind her and we made our way to each other through the plethora of richly dressed people.

“Lilith!” Aubrey gasped as she gathered me into her arms, but only for a moment before pulling me away to twirl me around, “You look wonderful!”

Heaving a sigh of relief, I replied, “Thank goodness. I’m not overdressed, am I?”

“Ha!” she snorted and gestured to her own dress. Aubrey looked absolutely wonderful, draped in gold and bronze with intricate emerald jewellery. It really brought out the red in her hair and the green in her eyes. Jenna came forward with her black hair in an elegant up do, a slim blue dress adorning her model-like figure and pale skin.

“You look perfectly fine.” Jenna said with a lopsided smile and a hand on her hip, the other slyly slipping around Aubrey’s waist. There was no way she thought I wouldn’t notice that, and my eyes shot down to confirm if I was seeing it right. The girls blushed and pulled away from each other, and I gave Aubrey a look of surprise.

“I, uh…” the redhead chuckled at me, “I clearly have a lot to tell you.”

“You do!” I said with playful warning, but I went in and hugged her, “I’m glad that you’re figuring yourself out, though. Let’s go in now, shall we?”