Adopt A Guy

I finally reached the office.

After killing the engine, I remained in the car for a moment, staring at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I checked my lipstick, then ran my fingers through my brown hair, smoothing down the few strands that had decided to rebel.

Satisfied, I stepped out.

Before closing the door, I gave myself one final inspection.

A fitted white blouse. A leopard-print scarf tied neatly around my neck. A brown mini skirt that hugged my figure just enough to look professional without sacrificing style.

Perfect.

As the manager of a fashion company, appearances mattered. A lot.

You wouldn't expect the manager of a fashion company to stroll into the office wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of jeans, would you?

Exactly.

I adjusted my scarf and headed toward the building, heels clicking confidently against the pavement. The moment I entered the lobby, the familiar rhythm began.

"Good morning, Miss Hayes."

"Good morning."

"Good morning, ma'am."

I answered with polite nods and faint smiles as I walked past them.

Five years.

It had taken me five years to get here.

Five years of sleepless nights, impossible deadlines, cold coffee, ruined sketches, rejected designs, and countless moments when I had seriously considered throwing everything away and walking out of the building.

But I hadn't.

I still remembered my first day at the company.

I had been young, inexperienced, and so desperate to prove myself that I practically lived at my desk. I worked until everyone else had gone home. I worked until the lights in the building were switched off one floor at a time. And when my first major design was due, I didn't even bother going home.

I slept in the office.

It hadn't been glamorous. It hadn't been easy.

But somehow, it had all been worth it.

Five years later, I was standing at the top of the ladder I'd once been terrified to climb.

Senior Manager.

Not bad.

I smiled faintly to myself.

I had grown up in an orphanage. I couldn't remember my parents' faces. Sometimes I wondered if I had ever truly known them at all, or if my mind had simply filled the empty spaces with imaginary memories.

The nuns had raised me. My friends had grown up beside me.

That was my family.

Maybe, wherever my biological parents were, they would have been proud of me.

Maybe.

I didn't dwell on it for long. There were more important things to worry about.

Like work.

I had almost reached my office when I stopped beside Lily's desk, my assistant.

The moment she noticed me, she shot to her feet so quickly that her chair rolled backward with a squeak.

She pushed her enormous glasses higher on her nose and gave me a nervous smile, revealing a flash of shiny pink braces. She was dressed in a loose white blouse and a long orange skirt.

I glanced at her outfit.

Sometimes, I genuinely wondered how she'd managed to survive in a fashion company.

Then again, Lily was good at her job.

Very good.

She had been my assistant for almost a year, and despite her awkward appearance, I had never once had to complain about her work.

"Good morning, Lara."

"Morning."

I was about to continue walking when I heard her hurried voice behind me.

"Wa-Wait!"

I stopped and turned.

"Yes?"

Lily fidgeted with something in her hands before finally holding it out toward me.

"This is for you."

I stared at the white card.

"What is it?"

"It's... an invitation."

"An invitation?"

I raised an eyebrow.

Lily's cheeks turned pink.

"I'm... getting married."

For a second, I simply stared at her.

Then my eyes widened.

"You're getting married?"

She nodded shyly.

A small giggle escaped her lips.

"Well..." I smiled. "Congratulations!"

"T-Thank you."

Her smile grew brighter.

"You should come."

"Of course."

The answer came out far too quickly.

I barely had time to wonder why before Lily added, almost innocently,

"You should bring your boyfriend."

I stopped.

My smile froze.

"Boyfriend?"

Lily blinked.

I forced out a small laugh.

"Um... I think I'll go alone."

With that, I turned around and walked toward my office before she could ask any more questions.

Once inside, I placed the invitation on my desk.

For some reason, I kept staring at it.

Marriage.

Boyfriend.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed.

Why had those two words suddenly become so irritating?

Maybe because I didn't have either.

****

I eventually decided to attend the wedding. And that decision led me to one of the strangest evenings of my life. 

The address on the invitation clearly said Riverton.

I checked it once.

Then twice.

Then a third time.

It still led me to the same place.

A tiny meat restaurant tucked between two ordinary buildings.

I stood outside for several seconds, staring at it in disbelief.

Pink balloons covered the entrance, at least a hundred of them, maybe more. A cheap paper banner stretched above the doorway.

CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR WEDDING!

I slowly lowered the invitation.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Laughter spilled through the glass door. Someone inside shouted something. Another burst into laughter.

I looked down at myself.

A red jersey tube dress from Alexander McQueen and Yves Saint Laurent black Tribtoo pumps.

The kind of outfit that belonged beneath chandeliers and surrounded by champagne glasses. Not in a tiny meat restaurant decorated with pink balloons.

I stared at the entrance.

Should I leave?

I could pretend I'd gotten the address wrong.

Yes.

That sounded reasonable.

But then I imagined Lily's face if I didn't show up.

I sighed.

...

I pushed the door open.

The noise hit me immediately.

Laughter. Conversation. The clinking of glasses. The sizzling sound of meat cooking somewhere behind me. The warm air smelled of grilled beef, garlic, smoke, and cheap alcohol.

Then, one by one, the conversations began to die down. Every head turned toward me.

I froze in the doorway.

For one painfully long second, nobody said anything.

I smiled awkwardly.

I swear, I'd never seen any of these people before in my life—

"Lara!"

Lily suddenly sprang from her seat.

She hurried toward me, her ivory-white dress swaying around her ankles.

I stared at the dress.

I tried very hard not to make a face.

Why had she chosen that?

Honestly, she looked like an elderly woman from 1997 who had somehow wandered out of a rural village and accidentally walked into a wedding.

But she was happy.

Really happy.

And that made the dress look beautiful anyway.

"Thank you for coming!"

She grabbed my hands excitedly.

Then she turned toward the crowd.

"Darling, come here! This is Lara Hayes."

A skinny man in a dull black tuxedo stood up so quickly that his chair scraped against the floor. He walked toward us with a ridiculously bright smile.

"Hi!" He bowed.

His voice was much louder than necessary.

"My name is Damian! I'm Lily's husband!"

I blinked.

"Ah... yes."

I nodded politely.

"Congratulations on your wedding."

Beside me, Lily covered her mouth, giggling.

Damian beamed.

"Please, take a seat."

Lily hurried me toward an empty chair beside her.

I sat down.

Damian took the seat across from us, and within seconds, the restaurant returned to its usual chaos.

People laughed.

Glasses clinked.

Someone shouted for another bottle.

The smell of grilled meat filled the air.

Lily reached for a bottle of red wine sitting in the center of the table. She poured some into a small wineglass with a chipped rim and handed it to me.

I stared at the wine.

It was cheap.

Very cheap.

The sort of wine you could probably buy at any convenience store without thinking twice. The deep red liquid looked almost elegant beneath the warm yellow lights, but the faintly sweet smell gave it away.

Still, I smiled and accepted the glass.

"Thank you for coming, Lara."

"You're welcome."

I took a small sip.

Yep.

Cheap wine.

Sweet at first. Slightly sour. Then came the bitter aftertaste.

Definitely not something I normally drank.

But strangely enough...

I didn't hate it.

Maybe it was the atmosphere. The warm restaurant. The ridiculous balloons. The smell of grilled meat clinging to the air. The loud laughter surrounding us.

Or perhaps it was the way Lily kept looking at Damian. Every time their eyes met, her entire expression softened. There was something almost innocent about it. Something I couldn't quite explain.

"I only invited you because..." Lily lowered her eyes, suddenly looking embarrassed. "I'm not really close with anyone else at the company."

I knew what she meant.

People could be cruel. Especially in a fashion company. Appearance mattered. Image mattered.

And Lily didn't fit the image.

She had never been fashionable. She wasn't particularly glamorous. Her enormous glasses and awkward clothes made her stand out in a place where everyone seemed obsessed with looking perfect.

People talked about her. They underestimated her.

Some even treated her as though she didn't belong.

I hated that.

I'm so glad that I come.

As the evening continued, I found myself watching Lily and Damian.

They were strange.

Their wedding was strange.

Everything about this night was strange.

And yet...

It was beautiful.

There was no extravagant ballroom.

No crystal chandeliers.

No expensive champagne.

No designer decorations.

Just a tiny restaurant, cheap wine, grilled meat, pink balloons, and two people who looked at each other as though the rest of the world had disappeared.

Maybe that was what happiness looked like.

Simple.

Unpolished.

Real.

I smiled faintly and took another sip of wine.

Then another.

And another.

I didn't realize how many glasses I'd had until the room began to sway.

The laughter around me grew distant. The warm lights blurred into golden circles. My head felt strangely light.

I lowered my gaze to the glass in my hand.

"...Oh."

I was drunk.

"I'm twenty seven years old."

The words slipped out quietly.

I stared at the wine.

"And until now..."

My lips curved into a bitter smile.

"I've never been in love."

Pathetic.

I'd spent my entire life believing I had everything I needed.

A successful career.

Money.

A beautiful apartment.

A nice car.

Respect.

Everything I'd once dreamed of having.

Everything...

Except love.

"It's pathetic..."

My voice trembled.

I lowered my head.

"I'm pathetic..."

"Lara?" I heard Lily's worried voice.

I looked up and smiled.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Of course." I laughed softly. "I'm Lara Hayes."

For some reason, I felt the need to announce it.

"I'm Lara Hayes..."

My smile slowly disappeared.

"Lara..."

I stared blankly ahead.

"Hayes..."

The room spun.

And then everything went black.

****

The next morning, I woke with a dull pounding inside my skull. My head felt as though someone had spent the night hammering nails into it.

"Ugh..."

I groaned and pressed a hand against my temple.

What the hell had I done last night?

I was usually pretty good with alcohol.

Usually.

The problem was that once I crossed my limit, all common sense abandoned me.

And the next morning?

Nothing.

A complete blank.

I prayed I hadn't done anything stupid.

The last time I'd gotten drunk, people at the company had started looking at me strangely.

I eventually discovered why. Apparently, I'd spent half the night pretending to be Catwoman.

Don't ask.

Trust me.

You don't want to know.

I slowly pushed myself upright and looked down.

I was still wearing my red dress.

"Oh."

Right.

Lily's wedding.

The restaurant.

The balloons.

The weird wedding dress.

Damian.

I smiled faintly.

At least I remembered most of it.

Which meant I probably hadn't done anything too embarrassing.

Right?

There was no way I'd pretended to be Catwoman at Lily's wedding.

I would have remembered that.

...Probably.

I dragged myself out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

My mouth felt like sandpaper. All I wanted was cold water.

I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle.

The plastic was cold against my palm.

I twisted the cap open.

Just as I raised it to my lips—

Snrrrk…

Snrrrk…

I froze.

The bottle stopped halfway to my mouth.

"What was that?"

Silence.

I slowly lowered the bottle.

There it was again.

Snrrrk…

Snrrrk…

The sound came from the living room.

My heart began to beat faster.

I placed the bottle on the kitchen counter and cautiously stepped forward.

Another sound.

Closer this time.

Snrrrk…

Snrrrk…

My imagination immediately went into overdrive.

A burglar?

Someone had broken into my apartment?

A murderer?

A serial killer hiding in my living room?

I swallowed.

No.

Impossible.

I lived in a secure building.

There was no way some random criminal had managed to sneak into my apartment.

At least...

I hoped.

I glanced around the kitchen. My eyes landed on an empty vase.

I grabbed it.

It wasn't exactly the most intimidating weapon in the world, but it was better than nothing.

Holding it with both hands, I crept toward the living room. My heartbeat grew louder with every step.

The strange noise came again.

Snrrrk…

Snrrrk…

I reached the corner.

Stopped.

Took a slow breath.

Then leaned forward.

My eyes fell on the couch.

And my entire body went rigid.

There was someone lying on it.

A man.

He was sprawled across the cushions as though he belonged there, completely relaxed, one arm hanging lazily over the edge. A black jacket had been thrown over his face, hiding his features.

For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.

My grip tightened around the vase.

My mind went completely blank.

Then one thought screamed louder than everything else.

CRIMINAL.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I raised the vase.

And then—

"AAAHHHHH!!!!!"