Chapter 3 Art Of Pretense.

"Sullivan... James?" I gasped, finally getting a clear look at the man who'd caught me.

He smiled softly. "Yes. Can't believe I just helped someone from tripping." His tone was skeptical, as if he suspected I'd done it on purpose.

I immediately composed myself, standing firmly on my feet and straightening my blazer. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"It's... wasn't intentional. I mean, well, thank you," I said, clearing my throat.

"Sure, yeah... let's find somewhere to sit," he replied, gesturing toward an empty table nearby.

As we walked to the table, I couldn't help but notice how he kept glancing at me. He was undeniably handsome-those striking blue eyes, and confident posture-but I reminded myself that appearance meant nothing. Derek had been handsome too.

James pulled out a chair for me before taking his own seat. "I ordered coffee already. Hope you don't mind."

"That's fine," I said, still wondering why he kept looking at me that way-kind but somehow flirtatious. "Should we get started on the Northstar implementation plan?"

For the next hour, we discussed strategy timelines and marketing approaches. I had to admit, James was brilliant. He understood luxury hospitality branding on a level that impressed even me, and he seemed genuinely interested in my ideas rather than dismissing them.

"Your approach to the millennial luxury segment is innovative," he said, adding notes to his tablet. "Most consultants miss the experiential value proposition entirely."

"Thank you," I replied, surprised by his praise. "I've been researching this demographic for years."

"It shows." His eyes met mine again, lingering a moment too long before returning to his notes.

Our meetings continued over the next three weeks, each one more productive than the last. Despite my initial reservations, James and I worked exceptionally well together. He complemented my analytical style with his creative vision, and together we developed a strategy that even Caroline called "revolutionary."

I was careful to keep things strictly professional between us, despite the occasional moment when I caught him watching me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. My resolution to focus on my career remained firm, especially after overhearing two coworkers in the break room discussing about how I would start seeing someone new and not focus like now.

"Just give it time. She'll find herself in that situation soon."

Their laughter had followed me all the way back to my office.

* * *

"Absolutely not," I told Talia on the phone, pacing my apartment. "I am not going to Jessica Palmer's wedding."

"Lil, you promised," Talia sighed. "We had already agreed months ago, before the whole Derek disaster."

"That was then. Now the thought of facing our entire high school mates makes me want to fake my own death."

"It won't be that bad," Talia insisted. "Besides, I already got us matching outfits."

I groaned. "Matching outfits? What are we, twelve?"

"Complementary outfits," she corrected. "My blue dress and your red one. They're gorgeous, and you're going to look stunning, seriously Lil..."

"Those people hated me in high school, Tal. I was the ugly duckling they took turns making fun of have you forgotten already?"

"Exactly why you should go. Show them how amazing you've become!"

After another hour of Talia's persuasion, I reluctantly agreed. That's how I found myself, three days later, walking into the extravagantly decorated ballroom of the Westbrook Hotel, feeling like I was marching toward my execution.

The whispers started almost immediately.

"Is that Lillian Vale?"

"No way. She looks... different."

"Talk about a glow-up."

I kept my head high, pretending not to hear them as Talia and I found our assigned table. The red dress she'd chosen for me was admittedly perfect-form-fitting yet elegant, with a neckline that suggested confidence without being provocative. I'd spent extra time on my hair and makeup, determined that if I had to face my former bullies, I'd at least look my absolute best.

"See? They're all staring," Talia whispered. "That's what jealousy looks like."

"That's what schadenfreude looks like," I corrected. "They're waiting for me to trip and fall face-first into the wedding cake."

Halfway through the ceremony, I excused myself to use the restroom. As I was applying fresh lipstick, I heard the door open and quickly slipped into one of the stalls, not ready for awkward small talk with former classmates.

"Did you see Lillian?" A familiar voice-Madison Clark, former head cheerleader and my personal tormentor throughout ninth grade.

"I know! Who would have thought she'd clean up so well?" Another voice-Brittany, Madison's eternal sidekick.

"Still clinging to Talia though. Those two are inseparable. It's like Lillian can't function without her."

"Well, Talia should ditch her before the curse rubs off. Did you hear about her latest breakup? Some guy at her office left her for another woman. That's like, what, the fifth guy in two years? or... I didn't keep count."

"Sixth, I think. My cousin works at Everett Enterprises. She says everyone there knows not to date Lillian unless you want things to crash and burn."

I felt my stomach knot, anger and humiliation washing over me in equal measure. How had my personal life become gossip fodder even outside the office?

"Maybe she should just give up on dating altogether," Madison laughed. "Some people just aren't meant to find love."

I'd heard enough. I flushed the empty toilet and stepped out of the stall, startling both women. Their faces froze in horror as they realized I'd heard everything.

Without a word, I walked to the mirror, pulled out my lipstick, and carefully applied another coat of crimson to my lips. I could see them behind me, exchanging panicked glances.

"Lillian, we didn't-" Madison started.

I capped my lipstick, dropped it into my clutch, and walked out without giving them the satisfaction of a response.

Back in the ballroom, I found Talia checking her phone.

"Hey, my boyfriend just texted. He's outside but doesn't know where the reception hall is," she said. "I'm going to go find him. Will you be okay for a few minutes?"

"I'll be fine," I lied, watching her disappear into the crowd.

Alone at our table, I became acutely aware of the glances and whispers around me. I kept my posture perfect, my expression neutral, as if I couldn't feel their judgment boring into me.

I recognized Richard Northstar across the room, talking animatedly with the father of the bride. I'd forgotten that Jessica's family had business connections with Northstar Hotels. Perhaps I could use this opportunity to discuss about work- just anything to distract me from my personal discomfort.

As I waited for Talia to return, "few minutes stretching into twenty," Madison approached my table with a saccharine smile.

"Lillian, we're all heading to an after-party at The Loft. You should come," she said, her voice dripping with forced friendliness.

"Thank you, but I have plans," I replied coolly.

Her smile faltered. "Right. Of course you do."

I expected her to leave, but instead, she lingered, joined now by Brittany and two other former classmates.

"So how have you been?" Madison asked. "Talia mentioned you work at Everett Enterprises now?"

"I do. I'm leading the implementation team for Northstar Hotels," I said, unable to keep a hint of pride from my voice.

"Impressive," she said, but not sounding impressed at all. "And... how's your personal life? Anyone special?"

The trap was obvious. They wanted confirmation of my failed relationship status.

"I heard some rumors," Brittany interjected before I could answer. "Something about another office breakup? That's got to be awkward."

I felt heat rising to my face. "If you're referring to Derek, then yes, we broke up. But what's more awkward for him is how quickly he's becoming a pariah at work."

They looked surprised at my candor.

"The office doesn't exactly celebrate men who cheat on their colleagues and immediately date someone else," I continued, finding strength in the truth. "Last I heard, he was removed from two client accounts because people refused to work with him. Turns out professional reputation matters."

Madison's smug expression faltered. She hadn't expected me to own the situation.

"That must have been hard for you though," she said, attempting to regain control of the conversation. "Another failed relationship..."

Something in me snapped. Years of being their punching bag, followed by weeks of processing betrayal. I couldn't take it anymore.

I felt heat rising to my face. "What? failed relationships? those groundless rumors"

"So you're saying you do have someone?" Madison pushed, her eyes gleaming with malicious curiosity.

"Actually, yes. I'm in a relationship," I heard myself say. "We're very happy together."

Their expressions shifted to surprise, then disbelief.

"Really? Who's the lucky guy?" Madison asked. "Do we know him?"

"No, you wouldn't know him. He's not from around here."

"So convenient," Brittany muttered to Madison who smirked.

"If you're really dating someone, why don't you call him?" Madison challenged. "Ask him to join us. Jessica won't mind one more guest right?"

My heart raced. I'd backed myself into a corner with my impulsive lie.

"He's probably busy," I said lamely.

"Just one quick call," Madison insisted. "If he's nearby, he could stop by. We'd love to meet the man who finally won Lillian Vale's heart."

The fact that they always put the blame on me, as if I'm the one who ends things - when it's actually the other way around.

Trapped, I pulled out my phone. My mind raced through potential options. whether to admit I'd lied and face their smug satisfaction. Or...

James Sullivan's name appeared in my recent contacts list. We'd been texting about the Northstar presentation earlier that day. My finger hovered over his name.

No, I couldn't possibly. It would be completely unprofessional.

But as Madison's expectant smirk grew wider, I found myself pressing the call button and raising the phone to my ear, my heart pounding.

It rang once, twice. I was about to hang up when he answered.

"Lillian? Everything okay with the presentation?"

"Hi, honey," I said, my voice unnaturally bright. "I'm at my friend Jessica's wedding and was wondering if you might be able to stop by? Everyone's dying to meet you."

There was a pause, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the confusion, hoping for a positive answer.

And after a beat, James replied, "Text me the address. I can be there in about fifteen minutes."

I nearly dropped my phone in shock. "R-really? That would be wonderful!"

After hanging up, I sent him the address with shaking fingers, adding a desperate message:

*I'm so sorry. I can explain when you get here. Please play along.*

Madison looked triumphant. "So he's coming?"

"Yes," I said, trying to sound confident. "He'll be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Perfect! We'll wait with you," she declared, pulling up a chair.

The next fifteen minutes were excruciating. Madison and her friends peppered me with questions about my supposed relationship while I fabricated answers, each lie building upon the last. I claimed we'd been dating for two months and that we'd met through work (technically true), and that things were "getting serious" (completely false).

As the minutes ticked by, I began to panic. What if James Sullivan didn't come? Or what if he did come but refused to play along? What if-

"Hallo, babe."

The voice broke through. I turned to see James standing behind me, looking impossibly handsome in a charcoal suit, his blue eyes twinkling with barely contained amusement. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek before offering his hand to Madison.

Shocked, Madison stuttered, "You... you..." she said, pointing at him.

* * *