Chapter 4 Five

"I swear, if I hear one more kid call me Mommy by accident, I'm transferring to high school," Janelle groaned, balancing a paper cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand and swatting a glue stick off her desk with the other.

Mia laughed as she leaned in her doorway, arms crossed. "You've been threatening that since I started."

"And I'll keep threatening it until I win the lottery or marry a retired soccer player." Janelle gave her a once-over and narrowed her eyes. "Now seriously

what's going on with you?"

Mia blinked. "What?"

"You're dressed like a Pinterest board. Pleated skirt? white blouse? Hair all cute and curled? Your the perfect example of a first grade teacher.And don't get me wrong you're adorable. But babe... it's giving kindergarten virgin."

Mia gasped. "Janelle!"

Janelle cackled. "I'm just saying. You ever think of oh, I don't know maybe bumping the neckline a little lower? Or buying something that doesn't button to your throat?"

Mia blushed and looked away. "I don't really dress like that." Even if Janelle has been teasing her about her dressing from the first day they met, it always made her shy.

"Exactly my point. You dress like a teacher. A sweet teacher. But you're married to Damian-freaking-Blackwood. I know you're shy, but even you gotta admit, that man is sin in a suit. And you're out here in flats and cardigans."

"I like flats," Mia mumbled. Besides I wore tiny heels today.

Janelle was the only one at her work place she was married, she had confided in her shortly before the ceremony. Then again she was her bestfriend so telling her everything was natural.

Janelle arched a brow. "Do you like never being touched?"

Mia didn't answer. Because ouch.

"Listen," Janelle continued, softer now, "you deserve to feel beautiful. Desired. You're married, but you act like you're on probation. Maybe if you dressed like you knew what you were working with..."

Mia bit her lip, trying not to smile. "You think that would make a difference?"

"I think if you're trying to get the attention of a man like Damian Blackwood, you can't do it in librarian chic."

Mia laughed, the sound soft but real. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're too sweet to stay invisible," Janelle said, nudging her shoulder. "Let me help you pick out a few outfits. Just enough to make him choke on his coffee."

Mia laughed and left pretending not to hear her, she had been bugging her about giving her the opportunity to style her. Mia wasn't really interested in change she felt pretty comfortable.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of introductions, glitter glue, and giggles. Mia's students settled in quickly-bright-eyed and curious, already drawing her pictures and telling her their deepest secrets.

She loved it. Teaching was the one place where she felt completely herself.

And yet... as the final bell rang and the school emptied out, her mind kept drifting.

To Janelle's words.

To her reflection that morning.

To Damian.

Would he even notice if she changed something?

Or would he keep glancing past her like she was just a shadow in his perfect house?

She was packing up for the day when her phone rang, vibrating gently on her desk.

Elena Blackwood.

Mia smiled as she answered. "Hi, Elena."

"There's my favorite daughter-in-law," came Elena's warm, elegant voice. "How was the first day back, darling? Any new little monsters this year?"

"A few," Mia chuckled. "But I think I've charmed them already."

"Of course you have. They don't stand a chance." Elena paused, then added, "I was calling because I want to take you shopping this weekend."

Mia blinked. "Shopping?"

"Yes, and before you protest, I already cleared it on my calendar. You're coming with me. We'll do lunch at Maison Lila, then hit the boutiques. Maybe something at Dior. You know the gala is next Friday night."

"The Blackwood Foundation Gala?" Mia asked, already nervous.

"The one and only," Elena said. "Every major CEO in the city will be there. Old money, new money, scheming wives, bored husbands-same circus, different year. You'll need a stunning dress."

Mia hesitated. "I don't usually wear-"

"I know you don't. But you should. You have the figure for couture, darling. And don't you dare think about money. That's what Damian's black card is for."

"Elena-"

"Please. He doesn't even notice half the charges. Spend a little. Look expensive. Make my son sweat."

Mia blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," Elena said sweetly. "Just be ready by ten-thirty on Saturday. I'll send a car."

After the call ended, Mia sat in her empty classroom, phone still pressed to her chest.

Look expensive.

Make him sweat.

For a woman who always thought being quiet and soft was the way to win love, it felt almost like a challenge.

But maybe-just maybe-it was time to stop waiting to be chosen.

She really didn't know if she was bold enough for it.