Radiance Jewelers looked exactly the same as it always did when Tessa arrived for her shift: white walls, too-bright lights, soft instrumental covers of pop songs drifting through hidden speakers.
The only difference was the folder in her bag that held a list of rules for her new, temporary, entirely fake engagement.
She slipped behind the counter, stowed her purse, and clocked in.
“Morning, sunshine,” called Leah from the other side of the store. Leah was in her thirties, with tight coils piled atop her head and a laugh that made customers instantly relax. “You look suspiciously caffeinated.”
“I had a meeting,” Tessa said, approaching the ring case. “With… a friend.”
“Is that what we’re calling it on the record?” Leah waggled her brows. “Got a hot date lined up?”
“Something like that,” Tessa said, lips twitching.
Leah’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Are you… glowy?”
“Shut up,” Tessa muttered, but she couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her mouth.
Leah grinned. “You are. You met someone.”
“Technically, I met him last night,” Tessa said. “And technically, it’s… complicated.”
“Oh, honey,” Leah said, bracing both hands on the glass. “If it’s not complicated, it’s not worth the good gossip. Spill.”
Before Tessa could craft a suitably vague answer, the office door opened and Mr. Denby emerged, adjusting his tie.
“Ladies,” he said, as if he’d walked into a 1950s commercial. “I hope we’re ready for a productive day.”
“My productivity is directly proportional to how much you stay in your office,” Leah muttered under her breath.
Denby’s gaze swept the store, landing on Tessa. He smiled. It never reached his eyes.
“Ah, Tessa,” he said. “Glad you’re on time. I trust you had a restful evening.”
Her skin crawled. “As restful as possible, considering.”
His smile thinned. “Considering?”
“Considering I had to figure out what I’m going to wear to the staff party,” she said smoothly. “Since my *fiancé* will be there and all.”
His eyes sharpened. “Ah, yes. Eli… Sorenson, was it?”
She forced her features to remain neutral. “That’s right.”
“I looked him up,” Denby said casually, drifting closer to the register.
Her heart jolted.
“Oh?” she said.
“Yes.” He leaned on the counter. “I didn’t find much. No LinkedIn. No Facebook. No criminal records… that I could see.”
“You did a background check on my fiancé?” she asked, incredulous.
“I Googled him,” Denby said, as if that were the same as due diligence. “You can’t be too careful these days. People aren’t who they say they are.”
She bit back a laugh. *You have no idea.*
“But I’m sure you know him better than the internet does,” he said smoothly. “Though I’d love to know… where you met.”
“At the mall,” she said without missing a beat. “He was buying a watch. I helped him pick one out. He asked me to coffee. We’ve been together ever since.”
Leah, who’d been pretending to realign a display, shot Tessa a quick, surprised glance.
Denby’s lips twisted. “And he’s coming Friday.”
“Yes,” she said. “He is.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured. “Sometimes men like to… disappoint.”
She lifted her chin. “Not this one.”
His eyes narrowed.
“We’ll talk scheduling later,” he said. “I may have some changes for next week.”
Her stomach dipped. “Changes?”
“Nothing drastic,” he said, waving a hand. “We’ll see how the party goes. Enjoy your shift.”
He retreated to the office, leaving the faint scent of his cologne and bad intentions in his wake.
“Okay, what the *hell* was that?” Leah demanded as soon as the door closed.
Tessa sagged against the counter. “That was… my boss being my boss.”
“No,” Leah said. “That was you dropping the word ‘fiancé’ like a bomb. Since when do you have a fiancé?”
“Since last night,” Tessa mumbled.
Leah’s brows shot up so high they disappeared into her hairline. “You’re engaged?”
“Not… exactly,” Tessa said. “It’s… complicated.”
Leah crossed her arms. “You keep saying that like it explains anything.”
“It’s a… new development,” Tessa said weakly. “I’ll… fill you in. Later. I promise.”
Leah studied her for a moment, then sighed. “If you show up on Friday with a troll, I’m never letting you live it down.”
“I promise,” Tessa said. “He’s not a troll.”
“Good,” Leah said, turning to flip the OPEN sign. “Because this store is not big enough for a troll and Denby’s ego.”
The day passed in a flurry of customers and subtle dread. Every time the bell chimed, Tessa’s body tensed, half-expecting Caleb to stroll in and blow his cover in front of everyone.
He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He had an empire to run.
At lunch, she ducked into the food court, phone buzzing with a new message.
> Caleb: Checking in. How’s your day?
She smiled despite herself.
> Tessa: Denby did a background check on Eli. Didn’t find anything. 10/10 fake identity.
> Caleb: Good. I was worried my Ohio family would show up.
She snorted, nearly inhaling a french fry.
> Tessa: How’s your day? Catch any more misbehaving Hot Topic employees?
> Caleb: Meeting. Meeting. Spreadsheet. Meeting. Currently listening to my CFO explain why the ice rink is a profit center and not a money pit.
> Tessa: Sounds romantic.
> Caleb: This is why my grandmother wants me to get married. She thinks it will make me less boring.
Her chest warmed.
> Tessa: Newsflash: you’re not boring.
> Caleb: Careful. You’ll void rule #4.
Her cheeks heated. Rule #4. No falling in love.
> Tessa: Compliment ≠ love. Don’t get excited.
> Caleb: Noted.
> Caleb: Are you free tomorrow after work? We should get you a ring before Friday.
Her heart stuttered.
> Tessa: Right. The ring. I can meet after my shift. 6?
> Caleb: I’ll pick you up.
> Tessa: That’s not necessary.
> Caleb: It is if I’m meeting your boss as “Eli.” Consider it a rehearsal.
Her stomach flipped at the thought of Caleb walking into Radiance. Into *her* world.
> Tessa: Fine. But no suits.
> Caleb: You’re really limiting my options here.
> Tessa: Be relatable.
> Caleb: I’ll wear my second-fanciest sneakers.
She shook her head, smiling like an idiot at her fries.
When she returned to the store, Leah raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a grin,” she commented. “Did someone send you a picture of a puppy?”
“Better,” Tessa said. “An ice rink spreadsheet.”
Leah stared. “Your taste in men is weird.”
“You haven’t even met him,” Tessa said.
“Exactly,” Leah said. “I’m working off what I have.”
The rest of the afternoon dragged. Every glance at the clock made her pulse jump. By the time six p.m. rolled around, she was a vibrating string of nerves.
She was adjusting a tray of necklaces when the bell chimed.
“Welcome to Radiance,” she called automatically. “How can we—”
“Hey.”
His voice did something to her spine. She looked up.
Caleb stood just inside the door, dressed in a dark green henley and jeans. No tie, no suit jacket. His hair was mussed by the wind, and he’d traded his battered sneakers for a clean pair of understated leather boots.
He looked… normal. Approachable. Like any guy who might wander into a mall jewelry store on a Tuesday night.
And yet.
Tessa’s throat went dry.
Leah, who’d been straightening a display, clocked him immediately. Her gaze traveled from his boots upward, taking in his shoulders, his face, his slightly uncertain stance.
“Oh,” she said under her breath. “Ohhh.”
“Tessa,” Caleb said, his eyes softening when they found hers. “Hi.”
She swallowed. “Hi.”
Leah shot Tessa a look that screamed *introduce me or I will combust*.
“Leah,” Tessa said, throat tight. “This is… Eli.”
Caleb’s lips twitched. He extended a hand. “Eli Sorenson. It’s nice to meet you.”
Leah blinked at the hand like it was made of diamonds. Then recovered, sliding into professional mode.
“Leah Bennett,” she said, shaking firmly. “Assistant manager. I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you.”
Tessa choked.
Caleb’s eyes glimmered. “I’m hoping that’s a good thing.”
“Well, it means Tessa’s not one of those girls who only talks about her boyfriend,” Leah said. “So yes. Good for me. Jury’s out on you.”
“Fair,” he said, surprisingly unruffled.
“Are you here to… look for something?” Leah asked, eyes flicking between them like she’d landed the juiciest side plot of her week.
“Yes,” Caleb said, and suddenly his gaze was only on Tessa. The rest of the world blurred at the edges. “I wanted to take Tessa to… dinner. And then… ring shopping.”
Leah’s jaw dropped. “Like… an engagement ring?”
“Well,” he said, half-smile dangerous. “We are engaged.”
Heat rushed to Tessa’s face. “We are?”
His brows lifted slightly. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
There was a double meaning there, and they both heard it.
Leah made a small squeaking noise.
“I thought you already had a ring,” she said to Tessa, almost accusingly.
“We, uh…” Tessa fumbled. “We talked about… picking it together. Later.”
“Very modern of you,” Leah said faintly. “I… I’ll finish the inventory in the back. Take your time.”
She fled to the office, leaving them in a cloud of stunned curiosity.
“You’re evil,” Tessa hissed as soon as the door closed.
“Do you want to keep this secret from everyone?” Caleb asked quietly. “I thought having an ally might help.”
She exhaled. “You’re not wrong. But still. No warning?”
“You looked like you might bolt,” he said. “I figured commitment in public would help.”
His words made her stomach swoop in a way that had nothing to do with logic.
“Ready?” he asked.
“For which part?” she said. “Dinner? Lying to my coworkers? Ring shopping? Watching Denby spontaneously combust?”
“All of the above,” he said. “In that order.”
She rolled her shoulders, suddenly painfully aware that this was it. The performance was starting. Tonight was the first real test.
“Let’s go, Eli,” she said.
He opened the door for her, and as she stepped past, his hand brushed the small of her back.
It was barely a touch. Feather-light.
Her whole body lit up.
***
They ate at a small Thai place a block from the mall—a compromise between her budget and his insistence on wanting to feed her something other than food court pizza.
Over pad thai and green curry, they went over their cover story in more detail.
“Okay,” Tessa said, twirling noodles. “So. We met at the mall. You were buying a watch. We’ve been dating for… how long?”
“A year,” he said. “You already told Denby that.”
“Right,” she said. “So, timeline. First date last March. Made it official in May. You said ‘I love you’ in…”
He lifted a brow. “You’re assigning me a ‘I love you’ date?”
“It’s important,” she said. “People ask. We need to have the same answer.”
He thought. “August. Late summer. We went to a drive-in movie. I said it halfway through the trailers because I was bored.”
She choked. “You’re terrible at this.”
He grinned. “No. I said it right at the part where the hero drives across the country for the girl. Very on-the-nose. You rolled your eyes at me, then kissed me.”
Her heart panged weirdly. “Okay, Spielberg. We’ll workshop the details later.”
“And the proposal,” he said. “We’ll need a story for that too. Something… not too extravagant.”
“In a park,” she said. “Somewhere we can plausibly be alone, but that has enough people that we couldn’t convince your grandma she should’ve been there.”
He nodded slowly. “Belle Isle. At sunset. I took you for a picnic. Brought wine and a charcuterie board I didn’t actually assemble myself.”
“Honesty slips into the lies,” she observed.
“I’m a complex man,” he said.
“You tripped over the blanket while you were getting down on one knee,” she added.
His mouth quirked. “That sounds like me.”
“And I almost swallowed my own tongue,” she said. “Because I thought you were just… stretching.”
He laughed softly.
“Okay,” she said. “It’s almost creepy how good we are at this.”
“Occupational hazard,” he said lightly. “I spend my days selling visions of the future. ‘Imagine your store here. Imagine your brand in this space.’”
“And I spend mine selling symbols of forever to people I’ll never see again,” she said. “We’re both professional fantasizers.”
His gaze darkened. “Is that what this is, then? A fantasy?”
“It’s a project,” she said. “With clear objectives and parameters.”
“And absolutely no real feelings,” he said, voice low.
Her pulse jumped. “Exactly.”
He leaned back, regarding her. “You sure about that, Tessa?”
She stared at him. At the way the restaurant’s soft lighting slid over his cheekbones. At the small bump in his nose that kept him from being model-perfect. At the faint, almost invisible scar along his jawline.
She thought of the folder in her bag, the bullet points and rules.
“Yes,” she lied again. “I’m sure.”
He let it go. For now.
***
The jewelry district downtown glittered even on a Tuesday night, store windows filled with rows of stones that had ruined more bank accounts than gambling and bad divorces combined.
Caleb parked—yes, in a very boring sedan as promised—in front of a sleek storefront with a discreet gilded sign: *Stellan & Co.*
“This is very… fancy,” Tessa said as they stepped out. “I usually run on a Pandora-level budget.”
“You work at a jewelry store,” he pointed out.
“Exactly,” she said. “Employee discount or bust.”
He held the door. The interior was all muted elegance—velvet display stands, dark wood accents, soft spotlights that made the diamonds sparkle like they were sentient.
A woman in a tailored black dress glided toward them, smiling. She looked to be in her fifties, with silver hair swept into a chignon and diamond studs that were probably insured individually.
“Mr. Ward,” she said warmly. “It’s been a while.”
Tessa froze.
He smiled. “Good to see you, Mara.”
They knew each other.
“Here for a watch?” Mara asked. “Or something more… interesting?”
“Something more interesting,” he said. “This is Tessa. My… fiancée.”
The word rushed over Tessa like cold champagne.
Mara’s gaze shifted to her, assessing without malice. “Congratulations,” she said smoothly. “You’re a lucky woman.”
Tessa’s mouth went dry. “Thank you,” she managed.
“And you’re a very lucky man,” Mara added to Caleb. “She’s lovely.”
He didn’t look away from Tessa as he said, quietly, “I know.”
Heat exploded in her chest. Fake, she reminded herself. For show.
Mara led them to a plush seating area and produced a tray of rings. Solitaires, halos, vintage-inspired sets. Tessa’s eyes blurred.
“Any particular style?” Mara asked.
Caleb glanced at Tessa. “You should choose.”
Her hand hovered over the rings. *You sell these every day,* she told herself. *You know what looks good. This should be simple.*
It wasn’t.
“These are all…” She swallowed. “Very… big.”
Mara smiled. “We can adjust the size of the stone. Or the design. Mr. Ward is a valued client.”
“How valued?” Tessa asked, eyes darting to a ring so large it could double as a self-defense weapon.
“He commissioned a custom cufflink set for his father’s seventieth,” Mara said. “And an anniversary necklace for his mother. And… an apology bracelet for his sister once, if I remember correctly.”
Caleb looked pained. “She found out I’d skipped her college play for a board meeting.”
“Yikes,” Tessa said. “No wonder you need a fake fiancée. You’ve burned all your good will.”
He winced. “Harsh, but fair.”
Her gaze landed on a ring off to the side. Not the biggest. Not the flashiest. A classic round diamond in a slim, slightly tapered band with tiny pave stones along the shoulders. Delicate without being fragile.
“That one,” she said, surprising herself.
Mara lifted it with tweezers, placing it in a small velvet-lined slot closer to Tessa. “Excellent eye. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Size?” Mara asked.
Tessa instinctively extended her left hand. Mara slid a small ring sizer on her finger, adjusting.
“Six and a half,” she pronounced.
Tessa’s heart hammered. Six and a half. It made it sound like this was really happening.
Caleb cleared his throat. “May I?”
Mara smiled, stepping back. “Of course.”
He took the ring from the velvet slot. For a man who signed deals worth millions, his hands were surprisingly careful as he cradled the tiny band.
He turned to Tessa. The room shrank.
“This is probably overkill for a fake proposal,” he said softly.
Fake, she repeated silently, even as her knees trembled.
“But if we’re going to do this…” He took her left hand, his touch warm and steady. “…we might as well get used to it.”
He slid the ring onto her finger.
It fit.
A perfect, terrifying fit.
Her breath caught. The diamond flashed under the lights, a burst of light that seemed almost too bright for her simple, bitten-down nails.
“How does it feel?” he asked quietly.
Heavy, she thought. Like a promise I know we’re planning to break.
“Fine,” she said, voice trembling slightly. “Perfect.”
His thumb lingered at the base of her finger for a second longer than necessary. The air buzzed.
“Looks beautiful on you,” he murmured.
“Everything looks beautiful on that stone,” she deflected.
He smiled faintly. “Don’t undersell yourself.”
Mara reappeared, mercifully breaking the moment. “It suits her,” she said, approving. “Shall I box it, or…?”
“We’ll leave it on,” Caleb said. “If that’s okay with you, Tessa.”
She swallowed. “Sure. Might as well… start the illusion early.”
Mara’s brows flicked at the word illusion, but she only said, “I’ll wrap the box for safekeeping.”
They moved to the counter to finalize the purchase. Caleb reached for his wallet.
“Wait,” Tessa blurted.
Both he and Mara looked at her.
“This is…” She gestured helplessly at the ring. “Too much. We agreed… modest. Believable.”
“This *is* modest, by my family’s standards,” he said.
“That’s the problem,” she said. “By mine, it’s… a car. A used car with a dented fender and a lot of character, but still.”
He held her gaze. “We’re not talking about car value. We’re talking about what people will expect on my hand.”
“On *my* hand,” she corrected.
He nodded. “Exactly. My family will accept that I fell in love with someone they didn’t pick. They will *not* accept a tiny cubic zirconia from a gumball machine.”
She winced. “Way to call my usual jewelry out like that.”
“What *you* prefer is different from what they’ll believe I’d buy,” he said gently. “If this is too much to keep after, we can… repurpose it. Donate the value. Auction it for charity. But for now… let me do this.”
Her instinct was to argue. To push it away. To remind him of the handcuffs Lana had warned her about.
But another instinct—the one that saw her mom’s tired eyes every morning—whispered: This is temporary. A tool. Use it.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “But we repurpose it later. No keeping thousand-dollar rocks as souvenirs.”
He hesitated. “Deal.”
She watched, slightly dizzy, as he handed over his card. The numbers on the screen blurred. It was more than her annual salary.
Mara bagged the empty ring box in tasteful tissue paper and handed it to Tessa.
“Congratulations, again,” she said, eyes kind. “You two seem… well-matched.”
Tessa almost laughed at the irony.
“Thank you,” she said instead.
Outside, the cold air slapped her cheeks. The ring caught every scrap of light, sending sparks dancing over the sidewalk.
She stared at it. “This is surreal.”
“Yeah,” Caleb said. He was looking at her, not the ring.
She shoved her hand into her coat pocket. “Don’t get used to it.”
He slipped his hands into his own pockets, nodding.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “I’ll send you the details for Sunday’s brunch. Location. Time. A rundown of the key players.”
“Should I… tell my mom?” she asked. “About you?”
He paused. “Do you want to?”
“Yes,” she said immediately. Then, softer, “No. I… don’t know.”
He was quiet for a moment. “We can… ease into it. Maybe wait until after Friday. See how it feels. We don’t have to… expand the circle faster than you’re ready for.”
Her chest ached with unexpected relief. “Okay. Thank you.”
A car honked somewhere; a dog barked. The city moved around them, oblivious.
“I should go,” she said. “The bus…”
“I’ll drive you,” he said.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said simply. “Let me do this one thing that doesn’t involve contracts or rules.”
Her resistance crumbled. “Fine. But no carrying my bag. I draw the line at being princess-carried into my own apartment.”
“I’ll restrain myself,” he said drily.
The drive back to her neighborhood was quiet but comfortable. The ring felt like a live wire on her finger, every bump of the road sending tiny shocks up her arm.
He pulled up in front of her building, the streetlights casting yellow halos on the cracked sidewalk.
“This is me,” she said.
He studied the brick facade, the narrow stairwell. “Can I walk you up?”
“You really lean into the gentleman thing,” she muttered.
“Liability thing,” he said. “If something happened to you between the car and your door, my lawyers would revolt.”
She snorted. “Such romance.”
He walked her up the stairs anyway, his hand hovering just behind the small of her back without touching.
At her door, she turned to him.
“Thank you,” she said. “For today. For… all of it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
Silence fell. The air buzzed with all the things they’d agreed not to do.
No kissing when nobody’s watching.
His gaze dropped to her mouth for just a moment too long. Her breath hitched.
“Goodnight, Tessa,” he said roughly.
“Goodnight, Eli,” she whispered.
He flinched like the fake name had stung, then managed a small smile before turning and heading back down the stairs.
She watched him go. Then slowly, she opened her door.
“Tessa?” Lana called from the couch. “That you?”
“Yeah,” Tessa said, closing the door behind her.
Lana poked her head over the back of the couch. Her eyes dropped immediately to Tessa’s left hand.
She screamed.
“Oh my God,” Lana shrieked, launching herself off the couch. “Is that— Is that what I think it is?”
“I told you we were getting a ring,” Tessa said, holding up her hand. The diamond caught the lamplight. Lana’s eyes bugged.
“You told me you were getting a *prop*,” Lana said, grabbing her hand like she was about to propose herself. “This is not a prop. This is… a down payment on a house. This is… generational wealth in circle form.”
“It’s borrowed,” Tessa said. “Temporary. Like the entire situation.”
Lana glared at her. “You cannot just bring a rock like this into my apartment and tell me it’s temporary. That’s like walking a golden retriever puppy in here and saying, ‘Don’t worry, it’s going back to the shelter tomorrow.’”
“That’s a very dark analogy,” Tessa said.
“That’s how much I love this ring,” Lana said. “Wait. Was *he* hot?”
“Yes,” Tessa said before she could stop herself.
Lana gasped. “You like him. You *like*-like him.”
“No,” Tessa said quickly. “I like that he’s not letting my boss ruin my life.”
“And that he put that giant metaphor for commitment on your finger,” Lana said.
“That too,” Tessa muttered.
Lana narrowed her eyes. “Did you kiss him?”
“No,” Tessa said. “We have a rule.”
“A *rule?*” Lana echoed.
Tessa dropped onto the couch, fat folder in hand. “We have… lots of rules.”
She handed over the paper. Lana scanned it, her eyes getting wider with each bullet point.
“No sex,” Lana read. “No kissing when nobody’s watching. No sharing a bed. No falling in love.” She snorted. “That last one’s adorable.”
“It’s necessary,” Tessa said. “We’re going to be around each other a lot. We need… guardrails.”
“If you say so,” Lana said. “But in my experience, the second you tell your heart *not* to do something, it becomes a toddler in a grocery store.”
“I’m not… romantically reckless,” Tessa protested. “I can separate feelings from function.”
“Famous last words,” Lana said, then sighed. “Okay. I will say this much: at least he’s not half-assing it. He’s in. Fully committed. Diamond ring, legalese, the works.”
“That’s what scares me,” Tessa admitted. “He’s… intense.”
“And you,” Lana said, tapping the paper, “are brave. And maybe a little bit insane. But mostly brave.”
Tessa leaned her head back. “If this blows up, I expect full ‘I told you so’ privileges from you.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Lana said. “On the other hand… if it *doesn’t* blow up…” Her voice turned sly. “I expect maid-of-honor privileges.”
Tessa groaned. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Lana eyed the ring again, then grinned. “Too late.”
***
Friday arrived faster than Tessa thought time was actually supposed to move.
The day of the staff party, Radiance buzzed with a weird, anxious energy. People huddled by the register comparing outfits, talking about whether the restaurant’s chicken parm was legit or secretly just microwaved frozen patties.
Denby stalked around, pretending he wasn’t vibrating with anticipation. Every time Tessa passed him, he said something like, “I look forward to meeting your *Eli*,” with a smirk that made her want to fling the ring at his face.
She’d worn the ring to work that day, her left hand feeling heavier than usual as she adjusted necklaces and pointed out settings. Customers noticed, of course.
“Oh!” squealed a girl trying on prom earrings. “You’re engaged! He must *love* you. That’s gorgeous.”
Tessa smiled and nodded and swallowed the hysterical laugh rising in her throat.
By six, she’d been congratulated twenty-three times.
“I hope this party has an open bar,” Leah muttered as they closed up. “I need at least two mojitos just to be near Denby in a non-professional setting.”
“You’re driving,” Tessa reminded her.
“I need one mojito metaphorically,” Leah corrected.
Tessa checked her phone for the billionth time. No text from Caleb.
He’d said he’d meet them at the restaurant. They’d agreed it was less conspicuous than him strolling into Radiance again.
She grabbed her coat and bag, finger worrying the ring.
“You ready?” Leah asked, looping her arm through Tessa’s. “For the big reveal of Eli from Ohio?”
“He’s not from Ohio,” Tessa said.
“You were very insistent about Ohio,” Leah said. “You must be hiding something.”
“Just trauma from too many true crime podcasts,” Tessa muttered.
They stepped out into the chilly evening air. The restaurant, *Il Forno*, was a faux-Italian joint three storefronts down, all red-checked tablecloths and fake vines.
“Classy,” Leah said. “Nothing says ‘staff appreciation’ like bottomless breadsticks and microwaved ziti.”
Tessa’s heart hammered harder with every step.
Inside, several tables had been pushed together. Their coworkers clustered around, some already sipping wine. Banners reading *THANK YOU, TEAM!* drooped slightly from the walls.
Denby stood at the head of the table, wearing a suit that tried very hard to be expensive and failed. He surveyed the room like a king greeting his subjects.
“Tessa,” he called as she and Leah approached. “Glad you could make it.”
Tessa forced a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
His gaze dropped to her left hand. His smile stiffened.
“Nice ring,” he said. “Did Eli pick it out?”
“Yes,” she said, stomach twisting. “We chose it together.”
“Together,” he repeated. “How modern.”
“Where is your… fiancé?” he asked, the word dripping skepticism.
“He’s on his way,” she said calmly. “Traffic.”
“In this town?” Denby snorted. “He must be coming from very far away.”
“He works downtown,” she said.
“Ah,” Denby said. “Important man, is he?”
“Important to me,” she said simply.
He held her gaze a beat too long. Then, reluctantly, he looked away.
They sat. Drinks were ordered. Wine appeared. The table filled with chatter about sales goals and worst customer horror stories. Someone started a drinking game: take a sip every time Denby said “bottom line.”
Tessa barely heard any of it. Her mind was a loop of one thought: *He’ll come. He said he would. He’ll come. He—*
The door opened.
The restaurant noise dimmed in her ears.
Caleb stepped inside, the ambient light catching the planes of his face. He wore a crisp button-down, open at the collar, and a tailored jacket that managed to be both clearly high-quality and not ostentatious. Dark jeans, clean boots.
He looked, in a word, *devastating*.
Every female head at the table turned. So did a few male ones.
Leah made a quiet choking sound. “Oh, hell no,” she whispered. “That’s your *fiancé?*”
“Shut up,” Tessa hissed.
His eyes found her across the room. For a second, the whole space fell away.
Then his face broke into a slow, warm smile.
He walked toward them. Not too fast. Not too slow. Like he belonged in every room he entered, but this was the one he wanted to be in.
He stopped at her chair. The table had gone mostly quiet.
“Hey,” he said, voice soft enough that it was for her but loud enough that everyone heard. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re right on time,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
He bent—just slightly—and brushed his lips against her cheek.
The contact was light. Barely there. But her skin tingled as if he’d scorched it.
No kissing when nobody’s watching, she reminded herself desperately.
Everyone was watching.
He straightened and turned to the table, extending a hand to Denby.
“You must be Tessa’s boss,” he said politely. “I’m Eli. Eli Sorenson.”
Denby stood, face inscrutable. He shook Caleb’s hand a shade too hard. Caleb didn’t flinch.
“Nice to finally meet you,” Denby said. “I was starting to think you didn’t exist.”
Caleb’s smile didn’t budge. “Oh, I’m very real.”
Tessa bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.
“And what is it you do, Eli?” Denby asked, that false-casual tone back.
“I work in… property,” Caleb said. “Family business.”
“Property?” Denby echoed. “Construction? Real estate?”
“A bit of both,” Caleb said easily. “Lots of paperwork. Very boring.”
“Does it pay well?” Denby asked bluntly.
“Enough,” Caleb said. “I’m more interested in… job satisfaction.”
He glanced at Tessa when he said it. Her heart twisted.
Leah, beside her, mouthed *Holy shit*.
“So,” Caleb said, sliding into the empty chair beside Tessa like he’d always sat there. “How long have you worked with Tessa, Mr…?”
“Denby,” he supplied. “Almost three years now.”
Caleb’s brows lifted. “Impressive. She must be a valuable employee.”
“She does… fine,” Denby said. “There’s always room for improvement.”
“I find that if someone’s been at a company for three years,” Caleb said, “and they’re still there… it usually says more about the company than the person.”
Tessa had to lower her head to hide her smile. Leah disguised a snort as a cough.
Denby’s jaw tightened. “We have high standards at Radiance.”
“I’m sure you do,” Caleb said mildly. “She certainly seems to.”
He reached under the table and found Tessa’s hand, lacing their fingers together with warm, unhurried certainty.
Her breath hitched. She hoped no one noticed.
“So tell me,” Caleb said, completely relaxed. “What are your policies on workplace harassment?”
The question landed like a dropped wineglass.
Silence shattered across the table.
Denby’s face went a blotchy shade of red. “Excuse me?”
Caleb smiled, calm and dangerous. “As someone who works in property, I’m always interested in tenant practices. It’s… a professional curiosity.”
“Tessa hasn’t mentioned any… issues,” Denby said tightly.
“Hasn’t she?” Caleb asked, gaze flicking to her briefly.
Her stomach swooped.
“Everything is… fine,” she said quickly, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. “We treat our customers well.”
“That’s good to hear,” Caleb said. “I’d hate to think anyone was mistreating staff or clients. That can be… very costly.”
His tone was pleasant. His eyes were ice.
Under the table, his thumb stroked the side of her hand, subtle and reassuring.
“Corporate audits are a pain,” someone muttered down the table.
“Tell me about it,” Caleb said smoothly. “The paperwork alone…”
The tension eased. Conversation resumed in pockets. Denby, however, sat stiffly, watching Caleb with the wary calculation of a man sensing a predator but not understanding what kind.
Tessa forced herself to breathe normally. To laugh when Leah made a joke. To take a sip of her wine.
Caleb leaned closer, pretending to listen as someone across the table told a story about a customer who’d tried to return a clearly fake Rolex.
His breath brushed her ear. “You okay?” he murmured.
“Fine,” she said, very aware of how close his lips were.
“It’s going well,” he said. “You’re doing great.”
“I’ve been engaged for an hour,” she whispered back. “I don’t think I’ve earned a performance review yet.”
He huffed a small laugh, the sound ghosting over her skin.
“You’re a natural,” he said.
“Don’t say that,” she said. “You’ll void rule number four.”
He pulled back enough for her to see the amused curve of his mouth.
“So you remember the rules,” he said.
“I wrote them,” she said. “Of course I remember them.”
“Good,” he murmured. “Someone has to.”
Before she could parse that, Denby cleared his throat loudly, clinking his fork against his glass.
“Everyone!” he called. “If I could have your attention for a moment.”
The table quieted.
“I just wanted to thank you all for your hard work this quarter,” he said, slipping into manager-voice. “Despite some… challenges, we’re doing well. Numbers are up. Customer satisfaction is steady.”
“Steady,” Leah muttered. “Like a flatline.”
“And,” Denby went on, “I’d like to give a special acknowledgment to Tessa.”
Her stomach lurched. She did *not* like where this was going.
“She’s been with Radiance for three years now,” Denby said. “And while we’ve had our… differences over the years, she’s become an integral part of the team.”
Tessa’s skin prickled. The compliments were a prelude. He was winding up for something.
“I was surprised to learn recently that she was engaged,” he said, smiling thinly. “It seems she doesn’t feel the need to share important things with her work family.”
Several heads turned toward her. She forced a small smile.
“So,” Denby continued, “in the spirit of transparency… I have a little game in mind.”
Tessa’s heart pounded. “Game?”
“Yes,” he said. “Since we have Tessa’s fiancé here with us…” His smile flickered toward Caleb. “…let’s… test how well they know each other.”
Leah groaned softly. “Oh, he did not.”
“He’s too petty to live,” Tessa whispered.
“Fun!” someone down the table said, oblivious. “Couple’s quiz!”
“Great idea,” another chimed in.
Caleb’s hand tightened around hers under the table, once, like a warning and a promise.
He turned to Denby, smile easy. “We’re always up for some fun.”
Tessa swallowed. This was it. Their first real trial by fire.
“No Googling,” Denby said smugly. “No whispering answers. I’ll call out questions; they answer separately. We see how their stories line up.”
“We haven’t even had dessert,” Leah muttered. “At least let me stress-eat first.”
“First question,” Denby said, clearly enjoying himself. “Where did you two meet?”
“Tessa?” he prompted.
“At the mall,” she said calmly. “He was buying a watch. I sold it to him.”
“Eli?” Denby asked.
“The mall,” Caleb said. “She was working at Radiance. I tried to buy something I didn’t understand and she prevented a very expensive mistake.”
Chuckles around the table. Denby’s smirk dimmed a fraction.
“Okay,” he said. “How long have you been dating?”
“A year,” they said in unison.
More chuckles. Leah squeezed Tessa’s shoulder in secret triumph.
“Where was your first date?” Denby pressed.
“The food court,” Tessa said. “We grabbed pretzels and ate by the fountains.”
“The food court,” Caleb said. “I tried to impress her by pretending I knew things about mall architecture. She pretended to be interested.”
Someone laughed. “That’s adorable.”
Denby’s eyes narrowed. “What’s Eli’s favorite food?”
“Tacos,” Tessa said. “Specifically from that truck on Fourth that always looks like it might fail a health inspection but never does.”
Caleb blinked, then grinned. “She’s right.”
“Lucky guess,” Denby scoffed.
“And Tessa’s favorite?” he shot at Caleb.
“Depends on the day,” Caleb said without missing a beat. “But if we’re talking comfort food… her mom’s arroz con pollo. And the mac and cheese from that hole-in-the-wall diner near her apartment.”
Tessa’s throat tightened. “You remembered that?”
“Of course,” he said quietly.
Denby glanced between them, irritation flickering.
“Fine,” he said. “Easy questions. Let’s… step it up.” He smiled, shark-like. “When’s Tessa’s birthday?”
“June sixteenth,” Caleb said immediately.
“She told you that?” Denby asked, surprised.
“Last night,” Caleb said. “She mentioned how much she hates Gemini jokes.”
Tessa glared. “I do.”
“And Eli’s?” Denby fired back.
“January twenty-third,” Tessa said. “He just turned thirty-two. His aunt made him a cake shaped like a skyscraper.”
Someone whistled. “Skyscraper cake? Fancy.”
A faint flush climbed Caleb’s neck. “It collapsed in the middle,” he said. “Much like I did when she insisted on putting my face on it in frosting.”
Tessa laughed. The image softened something in her.
“Last one,” Denby said, clearly thrown by how well they’d done. He leaned in, eyes gleaming. “What’s Tessa’s biggest fear?”
The table quieted. The question was more intimate than the others. Crueler.
“That’s not—” Leah started.
Tessa squeezed her arm under the table, shaking her head.
Caleb stared at Denby for a beat, his expression cooling.
Then he spoke.
“Being stuck,” he said quietly. “In a life she didn’t choose. With people who don’t value her.”
The words landed like a physical blow. Tessa’s breath left her lungs.
“How about you let Tessa answer for herself,” Denby said, though something uneasy flickered in his eyes.
Caleb turned to her, gaze soft. “Am I wrong?”
She swallowed. “No,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not.”
Silence rippled down the table.
“And Eli’s?” Denby asked, clearly trying to regain the upper hand.
Tessa’s gaze remained on Caleb’s profile, on the tense line of his jaw.
“Being… alone in a room full of people who only see his bank account,” she said slowly. “Not knowing if anyone would still show up if he lost… all of it.”
His head snapped toward her, eyes wide.
“How did you—” he started, then stopped.
“You told me,” she said. “Not in those exact words. But… that’s what it sounded like.”
He stared at her, something raw and unguarded flickering across his face.
The rest of the table faded. For a second, it was just them, breathing the same surprised, electric air.
Denby cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment.
“Well,” he said, forced jovial. “It seems you two have… talked. More than I realized.”
“Communication,” Leah said brightly. “Wild concept in this economy.”
Laughter skimmed the tension. The conversation drifted back to safer topics.
Under the table, Caleb’s hand squeezed hers once. Hard.
“You okay?” he murmured, low.
She exhaled. “Ask me when the party’s over.”
“Deal,” he said.
As the evening wore on, they fell into a rhythm. He fed her bites of his dessert with a casual intimacy that made her hyper-aware of every inch of her body. She teased him about his inability to twirl pasta without making a mess. He pretended to be scandalized by her decision to dip bread in olive oil *and* balsamic.
It felt… easy. Dangerous.
At one point, Leah leaned over, under cover of a toast Denby was making to “future growth,” and whispered, “Okay, I hate to say this, but… you two are disgustingly convincing.”
“It’s just good acting,” Tessa whispered back.
“Yeah,” Leah said dryly. “Keep telling yourself that.”
When the party finally broke up, people trickled out in groups, hugging, laughing. Denby shook Caleb’s hand again at the door, his grip tighter than necessary.
“Pleasure to meet you, Eli,” he said. “I look forward to seeing more of you around.”
“Likewise,” Caleb said. “I’m sure we’ll be… in touch.”
Something in his tone made the hairs on Tessa’s arms rise.
Outside, in the crisp night air, Leah wrapped Tessa in a hug.
“Text me everything,” she hissed in her ear. “And please, for the love of all that is sparkly, do not sleep with him on the first fake date.”
“I won’t,” Tessa said, heart pounding at the very idea.
“Second, then,” Leah said. “I accept second.”
She disappeared into the night, leaving Tessa and Caleb standing under the restaurant’s dim awning.
“Walk?” Caleb asked.
She nodded.
They strolled down the mall’s outer walkway, the neon signs casting multicolored shadows on the pavement.
“You were… incredible,” he said quietly. “Tonight.”
She scoffed. “You’re just saying that because I didn’t out you as a billionaire in front of my coworkers.”
“That too,” he admitted. “But mostly because… you made this feel…”
“Real?” she supplied.
His jaw ticked. “Dangerous word.”
“It is,” she agreed. “We should be careful with it.”
He looked at her ring, then back at her face.
“You okay with how Denby… pushed?” he asked. “If not, I can—”
“Fire him?” she finished. “Change the locks yourself? Salt the earth under his office chair?”
“Tempting,” he said. “But I meant… formally. With cause.”
She sighed. “He was… himself. I’ve dealt with worse from him.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “And I know you’re going to… do something. Just… do it in a way that doesn’t make my life harder in the interim. Please.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll start with an internal review. Quietly. We’ll build a case. When he goes, it’ll be because of his behavior, not because he picked on the wrong girl.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I’m not a damsel. I’m just… a girl with an anxiety disorder and a very expensive loaner ring.”
He smiled at that. “I see no damsel here. Just… a very brave, irritatingly self-reliant woman.”
“Careful,” she said. “You’re slinging compliments again.”
“Dangerous territory,” he murmured.
They reached the fountain entrance. It was lit up in blues and whites, water sparkling.
“This is where it started,” she said.
“Technically, it started in your store,” he corrected. “When you intervened.”
“Fine,” she said. “This is where it… escalated.”
He huffed a laugh.
Silence stretched. The rules rustled between them like invisible pages.
No sex.
No kissing when nobody’s watching.
No sharing a bed.
No falling in love.
“You broke a rule tonight,” he said suddenly.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“You kissed me when nobody was watching,” he said. “On the cheek.”
Heat flared in her face. “Everyone at the table was watching.”
“At the restaurant,” he said. “Yes. But here…” He gestured around them. “No one is. And I’m… tempted.”
Her breath stilled. “Tempted to what?”
He stepped half an inch closer. Not enough to touch. Enough that she could feel the warmth of him through the cold air.
“To… practice,” he said slowly. “For future… public requirements.”
Her chest rose and fell too quickly. “We said no kissing when nobody’s watching.”
“We did,” he agreed. “I’m just… acknowledging the temptation. Data recording.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “You’re such a nerd.”
“Better than being a rule-breaker,” he said.
The word pressed on the small, secret part of her that absolutely wanted to break a rule.
“Thank you,” she said, suddenly sincere. “For coming tonight. For… backing me up.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Partners.”
“Partners,” she echoed.
He looked at her for a long moment. Then he stepped back, putting a safe distance between them.
“I’ll text you tomorrow about Sunday,” he said. “My grandmother’s brunch… is a whole different level of performance.”
“I can handle brunch,” she said, relieved for the space. “I’ve survived sale days at Radiance.”
He gave a short, incredulous laugh. “Don’t underestimate Elise Ward.”
He turned to go, then paused, looking back over his shoulder.
“Tessa?”
“Yeah?” she said.
“Tonight,” he said slowly, “when you answered that question about my fear…”
“Yeah?”
“You were… right,” he said. “That wasn’t in the notes.”
“I know,” she said softly. “Some things you can’t bullet-point.”
“Right,” he said hoarsely.
He nodded once, then walked away.
She watched him until he disappeared around the corner, ring burning cold and bright on her finger.
The rules—*their* rules—repeated in her head like a mantra.
No sex.
No kissing when nobody’s watching.
No sharing a bed.
No falling in love.
So far, they were intact.
She had a feeling that wouldn’t last.
***