The air was rich with the soft, soothing scent of lavender and sweet orange. Warm steam curled lazily through the bathroom doorway, and mellow instrumental music floated in the background like a lullaby.
Sadie had gone all out.
She'd turned one of the Rosenfield guest rooms into a private spa — dim lights, plush towels, aromatherapy diffusers in every corner. Her goal was simple: pamper her best friend back to life.
Now, after facials and a long, slow full-body massage, Celine lay on the massage bed, eyes closed, feeling the kind of calm she hadn't felt in what felt like forever.
Once the masseuses quietly left the room, closing the door behind them, it was just the two of them.
"Aaah, don't you feel so much better?" Sadie groaned happily, stretching her arms above her head.
Celine let out a soft, content sigh. "Thank you so much, Sade. I really needed this…"
"Anytime, babe. We only have each other, remember?" Sadie said, grinning as she passed her a cup of warm green tea. "That's why I'm your best friend. I'm literally obligated by contract to spoil you."
Celine smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing.
Sadie leaned back against the headboard. "I don't even know what to say anymore except… take it day by day. You will get through this. But tell me, what's your plan now? Are you thinking of taking a vacation? Running away to Bali? Paris? Mars?"
Celine shook her head. "No. I'm not running away. I'm going to face this head-on. I want Dean to regret what he's done to me. And… I already have a plan."
Sadie's eyes widened theatrically. "Oh my goodness. Am I talking to Celine right now? Is the brilliant, outspoken Celine finally stepping out and thriving?"
"It's not like that," Celine protested, her shyness creeping in. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Remember the guy who helped me at the club when I got drunk? We… bumped into each other again a couple of days ago."
Sadie's brows shot up. "Mhm. Go on."
"So I had this idea," Celine continued, voice wavering slightly. "If I want Dean to regret breaking up with me, then… I'll make him see, up close, what he threw away. No more hiding. He'll see me — really see me — right in front of him."
Sadie stayed completely silent, waiting.
"Well," Celine said, cheeks flushing, "it turns out that guy — his name is Nathan — came here to meet my dad for a business proposal. So I… offered him a trade. I told him I'd help him get the meeting and maybe even the deal, if he helps make Dean realize what he lost."
She squeezed her eyes shut, mortified at hearing her own words aloud.
Sadie shot straight up from the bed. "Oh. My. God."
Celine peeked at her through her fingers. "What?"
"My dear best friend is getting bolder by the day, and I could not be more proud," Sadie announced. "Tell me he said yes."
Celine nodded, a shy smile forming.
Sadie actually did a little happy dance right there on the rug. Celine burst into laughter — a real laugh this time — and Sadie froze, eyes instantly glassy.
"There she is," Sadie said, wiping at a tear dramatically. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you laugh again."
They settled back onto the beds, now lying on their sides facing each other. Sadie's brain went into strategist mode.
"Okay. Here's what you're going to do," she said. "Invite him here. Let people — staff, socials, whoever — start talking about this new guy. By the time you two have to go public as… whatever you're pretending to be, society will already be curious. And while that's happening, you get to know him, set the plan, and get comfortable with each other."
She smirked. "If you want them to believe it's real, you can't afford awkward."
Celine considered it. "You're scary when you talk like this, you know?"
"Thank you," Sadie said sweetly. "Now invite him."
Celine grabbed her phone and typed out a message asking Nathan to come over when he was free.
His reply was short:
Nathan: Sure.
Her heart sank a little. That was… formal. But then she reminded herself — he was already doing her a huge favor. She couldn't expect enthusiasm.
⸻
Nathan was midway through a run on the treadmill when his phone buzzed. He glanced down, saw her name, and read the message.
He didn't mean to sound curt with that sure — he was just out of breath.
She followed up with her address and told him he could come whenever it was convenient for him.
He had nothing urgent scheduled. Marv was handling their other projects while he stayed here. And truth be told, all Nathan had done the last few days was shuttle between the hotel, the gym, The Black Tie Society… and all the mental corners he'd built to avoid thinking about his mother.
He hadn't seen any sign of her. No calls. No chance encounters. Nothing.
A small, foolish part of him had hoped she might at least reach out, knowing he was back.
But the silence said enough.
He looked back at Celine's message.
If it's okay, I can come today, he typed.
Her response came quickly, sending her preferred time.
Nathan: I'll be there.
As he stepped off the treadmill, he realized something quietly strange —
He responded faster to her than he did to just about anyone else.
⸻
When Nathan arrived at the Rosenfields' residence, he was surprised by the modest front view. It looked elegant but understated from the outside.
Then the gates opened.
Inside, the estate stretched out in carefully designed harmony — guest houses, a tennis court, manicured gardens, a pool area that could belong in a resort. It was a blend of modern structure and traditional warmth, the architecture somehow managing to feel both grand and intimate.
It suited what he'd started to learn about Celine without even realizing it.
Rooted, polished… but soft at the edges.
Letty greeted him with a polite smile and led him through the house and out to the veranda.
Celine was already there, standing by a cushioned outdoor sofa. She straightened up the moment she saw him, smiling nervously but warmly.
She wore a lightweight mauve floral midi dress with a subtle mock neckline and sheer décolletage, flowing softly around her figure. Her dark hair was down, shining in loose waves, and she wore simple beige heeled slides.
Even at home, she looked effortlessly put together — classy and feminine without trying too hard.
Nathan caught himself staring for a second before he pulled his composure back in place.
"Hi," she greeted. "How was the drive? I hope it wasn't too hard to find."
"It was fine," he said. "Nice to see more of the city, actually."
Celine gave Letty a small nod, and Letty quietly excused herself to prepare refreshments.
They sat across from each other at first, the silence stretching just a bit too long. Both of them seemed to be feeling out the space between them — who they were, what exactly they were about to do.
Nathan decided to cut right through it.
"So," he said, leaning slightly forward, "what do you have in mind?"
Celine blinked. She'd hoped they'd ease in with small talk, maybe tea, but Nathan's directness disarmed her.
"Um…" She hesitated, staring at her hands. "I just want him to see me. To see that I'm not someone you can just discard. That… there's no one like me."
Her voice softened at the end, sadness creeping in.
Nathan looked at her steadily. "You are seen," he said. "Maybe not by him. But others notice you. You're not replaceable."
Celine felt her cheeks grow warm. He said it so simply, like it was a fact, not flattery. Dean had crushed her confidence so thoroughly that genuine compliments now felt foreign, almost suspicious. But Nathan's eyes were honest, and his tone didn't ask for anything in return.
He glanced out at the gardens, thinking. "Should we brainstorm?" he suggested. "You don't have to have it all figured out. We can build the plan together."
She nodded. "Yes… I'd like that."
A soft breeze swept through the veranda, lifting strands of her hair and brushing them across her face. Celine tucked them behind her ear and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the fresh air. For a second, she looked weightless.
Nathan watched her, quietly struck. Her heart-shaped face, the way her dimples appeared when she smiled even slightly — there was something very alive about her, even in her sadness.
He looked away the moment she opened her eyes again.
"Here's what I'm thinking," he said, clearing his throat. "You told me the other night — and again today — that you changed yourself for him. That you tried to become the kind of girl he said he wanted."
She nodded slowly.
"So maybe," he continued, "the first step is for you to stop doing that. Be yourself. If he sees the real you — the one you've been suppressing — it might shake something loose in him. And even if it doesn't…" His gaze met hers. "At least you'll be living as you again."
He watched her carefully. "Were you telling me the truth that night?" he asked gently. "Or was it just the alcohol talking?"
"It was the truth," she said quietly. "All of it."
"Then use it," he replied. "Not to get him back. But to reclaim yourself."
From that moment, Celine made a silent promise to stop dimming her own light. Around Nathan, she let herself be a little more outspoken, a little more real.
As the conversation eased, they drifted into less heavy topics — school, childhood stories, favorite foods, hobbies.
She told him about her love for social causes and the initiatives she wanted to support — programs for housing, education, and community-building. He listened intently, impressed by how much thought she'd given to helping others, not just herself. He realized she wasn't just gentle — she was passionate and driven in quiet ways.
In turn, he talked about Cubix, about architecture and urban design, about how he liked to create spaces that felt alive, not just impressive. When he described his projects, his eyes lit up — his calm demeanor cracking into something brighter.
She watched him as he spoke, seeing the spark in him. He wasn't just talented — he cared deeply about what he built.
He made a light joke about her earlier confession. "So you really did Dean's homework?"
Celine laughed — a soft, refined laugh that surprised even her. "Not all the time. Just… most of the time."
Nathan chuckled. "Well, that's one mistake we're not repeating in this arrangement."
Letty returned with a charcuterie board and a tray of lemonade and sweet tea.
They moved closer to the table, snacking on cheese, prosciutto, fruit, and jam. Time slipped by unnoticed as the conversation deepened — likes, dislikes, pet peeves, what they appreciated on a date, what they absolutely could not stand.
They discovered a few unexpected similarities — little things, but enough to feel familiar.
At one point, Nathan grew thoughtful. "We should talk about boundaries," he said. "I want to be sure I know what you're comfortable with."
Celine looked at him, surprised by how considerate that sounded.
He gestured to the space between them. "If we're going to convince people, there will be times we'll need to act close. Hold hands. Maybe hug. Maybe more. I don't want to assume anything. So…"
He patted the spot beside him on the couch. "Come here."
Her heart fluttered but she moved, sitting next to him.
"Give me your hands," he said gently.
She placed her hands in his. His touch was warm, firm but careful, as if she might break if he held too tightly.
"What about this?" he asked, intertwining their fingers loosely. "Are you okay with me holding your hand like this in front of people?"
Celine looked at their joined hands, then at him. His lashes were long, casting shadows against his skin. His features were sharp but softened by the way he watched her — steady, not demanding.
Her pulse quickened. "I'm… okay with that," she managed.
He shifted slightly, changing the way he held her hand, brushing his thumb lightly across her knuckles. "And like this?"
She nodded again, unable to form words.
He studied her face. "You look overwhelmed," he said softly. "Did I come on too strong?" He started to let go, but she tightened her grip.
"It's okay," she said quickly. "You're fine. I'm just… not used to this being about me."
He gave a faint, reassuring smile.
Testing the next step, he slipped an arm lightly around her shoulders. "What about this? In public — is this okay?"
He was careful, his touch gentle and respectful, always leaving space for her to pull away. They talked through each gesture as if rehearsing a scene — hand on the small of her back, an arm around her waist, a guiding touch at her elbow.
Then the conversation brushed the topic of affection.
"In case it comes up," he said slowly, "how do you feel about… a peck on the cheek? A forehead touch? Maybe… a nose rub?"
Celine laughed nervously. She leaned in closer without thinking, their faces inching toward each other as they tried to demonstrate. Their noses nearly brushed, breaths mingling.
The air around them seemed to grow heavier.
Nathan's gaze dropped briefly to her lips before he caught himself and looked back into her eyes. Celine felt her heart trip over itself, her hand still resting in his.
For a moment, it felt less like rehearsal and more like something real.
Then—
A knock on the open door.
"Miss Celine," Letty said gently, stepping in. "Should we prepare dinner for Mr. Nathan as well?"
The spell snapped.
They jumped slightly apart, both looking away, cheeks tinted with embarrassment.
Nathan cleared his throat. "That's very kind, but I should be heading out soon. Maybe another time."
"Are you sure?" Celine asked. "You should eat before you leave."
He shook his head. "It's already more than enough that you invited me. I don't want to overstay."
On his way out, another thought struck him. "Oh — one more thing."
He turned back to her. "We should have a code word."
"A… code word?" she repeated.
"Something we can say casually if we feel like people are starting to doubt us," he explained. "If I say it, you'll know to lean in more. If you say it, I'll adjust. It'll help us sync without being obvious."
She blinked, impressed by his attention to detail. "Okay," she said. "What do you suggest?"
"What's your favorite dessert?" he asked.
"Ice cream," she answered easily.
"Too general. Be specific."
She pursed her lips as she thought, mentally flipping through flavors. He couldn't help but smile at how seriously she seemed to take it.
"Rocky road," she finally declared.
He nodded. "Alright. Rocky road it is."
They walked together toward the entrance.
"Thank you for coming," Celine said softly.
"Thank you for the invitation," Nathan replied.
As he stepped outside, the evening sky was streaked with soft pink and blue.
Celine watched him leave and felt a strange sense of anticipation. She couldn't wait to see Dean's face when he realized what he'd lost.
Nathan walked out with a different resolve.
He wasn't here just to help her make someone else jealous. He was here to make sure she remembered her worth — with or without Dean.
Two people.
Two goals.
Walking side by side into a plan that would change them both in ways neither of them could yet see.