5.

Elara was here to be my support, but you see my mum?

My mum didn’t like Elara. She kept staring at her with this thinly veiled look of disgust, like she couldn’t believe I had the audacity to bring her along.

Elara, of course, noticed. She always noticed. But she didn’t care.

She sat cross-legged in the plush chair of the exclusive beauty salon, fiddling with the rings on her fingers.

Her bright purple hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, clashing spectacularly with the neon green crop top and plaid skirt she’d chosen for the day.

Add in her mismatched earrings, one shaped like a star, the other a crescent moon, and she w I'mas a walking middle finger to the word conformity.

“Elara, dear,” my mum said, her voice dripping with forced politeness. “Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable waiting outside?”

Elara smirked, leaning back in her chair like she owned the place. “Nope. I’m perfectly comfortable right here. Thanks for asking, though.”

I stifled a laugh, earning a sharp glare from my mother. “Evie, could you please explain to your… friend… that this isn’t exactly her kind of place?”

“Oh, I think she already knows,” I said, shrugging. “But she’s here for me, not for the overpriced face masks.”

My mother’s nostrils flared, and I could practically see her biting back a snide remark. Instead, she turned to the beautician, plastering on a tight smile. “Let’s just get started, shall we? My daughter needs the works—facial, hair, nails, everything. She needs to look presentable for tonight.”

“Presentable,” I muttered under my breath. “Right. Because I’m such a disaster.”

“Evie,” my mum snapped, her tone sharp. “This dinner is important. You’ll be meeting Alexander’s colleagues, his business partners. These people will judge you the moment they see you, and you need to make a good impression.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not auditioning for a reality show, Mum. It’s just dinner.”

“It’s never just dinner,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “And don’t forget, this isn’t just about you. It’s about all of us. We need to look like a united family.”

Elara snorted from her chair. “Yeah, because nothing says united family like dragging your daughter to a salon and calling her a disaster.”

My mum’s head whipped around so fast I thought her neck might snap. “Excuse me?”

“Elara,” I said quickly, shooting her a warning look.

“What?” Elara shrugged, completely unfazed. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

“Enough,” my mum hissed, her face flushed with anger. She turned back to the beautician, waving her hand dismissively. “Just do what you need to do. She needs to look perfect.”

The beautician smiled awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the tension, and gestured for me to follow her to one of the treatment rooms.

As I stood, Elara gave me a thumbs-up. “You’ve got this, Evie. Don’t let the beauty Nazis win.”

I snorted, earning another glare from my mum as I walked past her. “I’ll be fine,” I said, mostly to myself, as I followed the beautician.

---

The next two hours was like me going for world war three.

Facials, hair treatments, and more skincare products than I thought humanly possible.

By the time they were done with me, my skin felt like porcelain, my hair fell in glossy waves down my back, and my nails sparkled with a subtle but expensive-looking polish.

When I stepped out of the treatment room, Elara let out a low whistle. “Damn, Evie. You clean up nice.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, I guess.”

My mum, on the other hand, looked me up and down with a critical eye. “It’ll do,” she said, her tone grudging. “Now, let’s get you a dress.”

“A dress?” I repeated, groaning. “Mum, we’ve already been here for hours.”

“Exactly,” she said, grabbing her bag and standing. “And we’re not leaving until you’re ready for tonight.”

I glanced at Elara, who gave me a sympathetic shrug. “You’re on your own for this one,” she said, grinning.

I sighed, following my mum out of the salon and into the waiting car. As the driver pulled away, my mum turned to me, her expression softening slightly.

“You’ll thank me for this one day, Evie,” she said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, staring out the window. “We’ll see.”

—

Whoa!!!

This mansion was…oh my fucking God.

Tall, marble columns stretched up to impossibly high ceilings, the entire place was screaming right rich. Chandeliers that probably cost more than my entire life sparkled overhead, and the floor beneath my feet shone so perfectly I could see my reflection in it.

I tried not to gape, but it was hard. This wasn’t just a mansion, it was practically a palace.

The stairs, made of silver…wait is that diamond pieces on pedestals?

This was just too extravagant that one couldn't even feel homely in it.

“Close your mouth, Evie,” my mum, whispered sharply as she gave me a nudge.

I snapped my jaw shut, glancing at her.

For once, she wasn’t wearing something that screamed desperation. Instead, she was draped in a sleek emerald-green dress that fit her perfectly, her blonde curls pinned back elegantly. She looked happy, radiant even.

And maybe that was why I didn’t immediately snap back at her for the “close your mouth” comment.

“Don’t forget what I told you,” Lorelei continued, her voice hushed but firm. “Cutlery starts from the outside in. Cups on the right. Napkin on your lap the second you sit down.”

I groaned softly. “Mum, I’m not a kid. I know how to use a fork.”

“Don’t embarrass me,” she shot back, her smile tight as we were led toward the grand entrance by one of the house staff.

Before I could say anything else, the double doors ahead of us swung open, revealing a large sitting room that somehow managed to look both luxurious and intimidating.

And there he was, Alexander Caldwell.

He stood as we entered, a man who looked like he belonged in every Forbes magazine cover ever made.

Tall and broad-shouldered, his salt and pepper hair was neatly styled, and his tailored suit fit him so perfectly it was like it was made by magic.

“Welcome,” he said warmly, walking toward us. His gaze lingered on my mum, and the way his face lit up as he kissed her on the cheek… it was like he really, genuinely cared about her.

My mum smiled back at him, and for a moment, she looked almost shy.

I’d never seen her like that.

“It’s nice to meet you, Evie,” Alexander said, turning his attention to me.

I smiled politely, suddenly very aware of the soft, powder blue dress my mum had insisted I wear. The dress hugged my figure without being too tight, its delicate lace sleeves adding just the right touch of elegance. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

He looked me over for a moment, then smiled. “You look really beautiful tonight.”

I felt my cheeks heat up as I looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you, sir,” I murmured.

“It’s probably because of the money you spent on her,” a voice drawled from the corner of the room.

I blinked, looking up to see a girl around my age standing near the fireplace. Her arms were crossed, her blue eyes cutting through me like glass. Her platinum blonde hair was tied in a sleek ponytail, and she wore an outfit that screamed designer from head to toe.

Alexander sighed. “And that,” he said, gesturing toward her, “is my daughter, Riley, an angry child.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Nice to meet you, stepsister.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, and I could already tell she hated me.

“Where’s your brother?” Alexander asked, ignoring her attitude.

“Probably doing something stupid,” she muttered. “You know Ryder.”

I froze.

Ryder?

No. That couldn’t be…

“Mum,” I said quietly, leaning toward Lorelei as Alexander began explaining something to the girl. “You didn’t tell me he had kids.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she whispered back, brushing it off. “Alexander’s son is a football genius. Star quarterback. You’ll like him.”

I opened my mouth to ask more, but before I could, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” a deep, familiar voice said.

I turned toward the door, and my heart stopped.

Standing there, dressed in a perfectly fitted suit and looking like he’d just walked out of my worst and best nightmare, was him.

Holy shit.

Ryder.

The hot one-night stand stranger.