I really should be angry.
Which is why the sense of relief I felt made me feel uncomfortable. The truth was I didn’t have appropriate clothes, and even if I had gotten the chance to go shopping, something like this dress was simply not in my budget. Whatever I bought was not going to be good enough for this event, as proven by the immaculate garment I was now holding in my hand. Maybe he should have just taken someone who he knew could afford to dress in a way that suits him. I felt a little bitter again, but then thought of the last few hours of anxiety over my wardrobe and tried to accept this, be grateful. And I could always return it to him after the event! Maybe that would be tacky. It was either return it now and never wear it, or just take his gift and deal with it.
“There is more,” Nick said, watching me gaze into space.
“More what?”
“Jewelry and a note.”
I grunted. I grabbed the note from Nick’s reluctant hands:
Dear Aria,
I could care less if you showed up in torn jeans. Or better yet, nothing at all. But the spy I have recruited at your quarters alerted me of trouble you were having deciding on attire. So I had to step in. Don’t feel pressured to wear it though. I don’t know much about women’s fashion, just thought this would nicely contour your perfect figure.
See you at 8!
-Zayden
“Stacey!” we both screamed at the same time. She was supposed to be sleeping, but if she had the energy to discuss my clothing with Zayden, she had the energy to explain it to me. She walked out of her room looking rather sick. I knew she was only trying to help me because that’s what best friends do, but I wasn’t going to let her go without a hard time, because that is also what best friends do.
“Oh wow, what a beautiful dress!” she exclaimed, looking at me. “You went shopping without me?”
So innocent. She should join the CIA.
“I know what you did.” I gave her a sharp look.
“Yes, we know, Stace!” Nick was giving her the exact same look.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said to me, and then looked at Nick and added, “And why do you look bothered?”
Nick looked like he considered it for a second and frowned. “I’m not really sure. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
Stacey laughed. “You’re ridiculous. Can you make me some tea?”
Nick was off to do his bidding and I was left to confront Stacey. I opened my mouth to begin a long-winded lecture but ended up bursting into a fit of laughter. Stacey joined me, and after about five minutes of this, I was finally able to speak again.
“How did you even do it, Stace? Did you just randomly dial his number and go ‘Hey, guess what, I have the flu and Aria doesn’t have a dress?’”
She bit her lip. “Email. We are on emailing basis.”
“How?”
“His email is on the company’s website.”
I sighed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I love you, you idiot,” she said, looking at me like I was crazy. “In my defense, he wasn’t supposed to rat me out. Tell your boyfriend he owes me one.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, you know that,” I sounded way too disappointed saying those words for my own liking, so I cleared my throat and added with a firmer tone, “He’s just some playboy who is too used to getting what he wants and thinks all of this is a game.”
I wasn’t sure I believed my own words by this point. He was a playboy and this was a game; there was no doubt about it and he made no efforts to hide it. But somehow along the way, I had come to believe that he was actually a decent person. I couldn’t admit this to Stacey, though. I couldn’t even admit it to myself, really. The better I thought of him, the more likely it became that I would get hurt when all of this was over, and I could not consciously do that to myself.
“A playboy who is playing games, and for some mysterious reason, makes you happy,” Stacy said after a few minutes, as though considering how wise it was to communicate that with me.
“What do you mean?” I raised my eyebrows.
“You are happy.”