Twenty-Six ◑ The Date

The logistics of the ball had allowed Lucille to process the rejection quite gracefully and without throwing a tantrum. However, seeing Cade in the office had made it quite challenging for her to let go of what almost was and look forward to what would be, which was her going alone.

To be honest, she didn’t really have a problem with going solo in a supposedly romantic event, but Justin the front desk dude had been heavily emphasizing his availability, and that bothered her to no end. Not because she didn’t like him, but because she didn’t want to lead him on.

That was an addition to her confusion, another mystery to be debunked. She’d expected herself to be mad at Dimitri for his refusal, snippy with Cade for his insensitivity, and annoyed with Justin for his general pushy behavior, but she’d been none of the above. There was a certain lightness to her now, an acknowledgement that things didn’t always revolve around her. She was slowly losing her sharp edges, the ones that she’d considered her winning traits before.

And strangely, she didn’t mind one bit.

Lucille was okay with it, with anything. So much so that by the time the night of the ball came, she’d already accepted her fate.

She stepped out of the black limousine, keeping a smile fixed on face as the cameras flashed and clicked away. The double doors of the Manor opened wide to her, but she couldn’t help slowing down her pace to admire the setup.

God, the place was grand. Ethereal, even. The Arkham Manor already had an otherworldly atmosphere to it, and the marble columns arranged in strategic successions along the trimmed flowerbeds added a new touch of magic. The pale pink lights from the lanterns in the crabapple trees blended with the yellow glow slanting through the arched windows. A thin layer of ivy covered the white walls, reminiscent of fairytale castles. The mix of perfumes and magnolia blooms hung in the cool air, complimenting the dainty, tinkling piano music echoing softly around the estate.

The inside of the Manor was another level of amazing. The framed oil paintings and the antique furniture in the ballroom weren’t put away, just cleaned and polished to perfection like the crystal chandeliers on the ceiling. Guests and staff alike were mingling with glasses of champagne in hand, some of them swaying in the clear space in the middle of the room.

But to Lucille’s absolute horror, everyone was moving in pairs.

All the confidence she’d gathered for the past few days began to crumble as she passed by couples. Some of her acquaintances greeted her on the way, and while none of them had asked why she was alone, the familiar sideways flick of their eyes told her that they were wondering about it.

Suddenly she felt . . . exposed. Vulnerable. Her floor-length dress seemed to be clinging tighter and tighter around her body like a maroon, velvety vice grip. The low dip of the bodice on her back and the slit in the skirt that reached up her thigh didn’t seem so sexy anymore. A part of her wanted to cover up and hide away, but she forced herself to move along.

Lucille’s gaze swept the venue, from the golden curtains to the marble statues to the little white tables arranged at the sides of the dance floor. She’d seen people she recognized from work, but not the ones she was especially close to. She was about to take her phone out of her purse and send an emergency text when suddenly she saw Clifford striding towards her with another man in tow.

“Lucille!” He gave her a brief hug before gesturing at his smiling companion. “This is my husband, Dylan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dylan,” Lucille said, shaking hands with him. “You two look great.”

“So do you.” Clifford beamed. “I like your dress.”

Her smile widened. “Thanks.”

God, this was awkward. Unfortunately for her, it was only the start. Soon, Shanry and her husband joined them. Then Rosie and her partner. All arm in arm. Next, Justin and some girl from the Acquisitions team passed by. Lucille was just bracing herself for Cade and Jamie.

“Girl, you look like a forties movie-star with that hair,” Shanry remarked, tracing a finger over Lucille’s curls. “I just love it.”

“Thanks,” Lucille said again. She’d been robotically saying thanks since she’d gotten here. “You look stunning too—”

“Where are you hiding your supermodel?” Rosie suddenly demanded, craning her neck as she looked around. “Don’t worry, we won’t smother him.”

Clifford grinned. “We’ll just take pictures and return him to you immediately.”

The others shared a laugh, but Lucille couldn’t join in. What was she supposed to do now? Should she make something up? Should she pull a random good-looking guy and pay him to pretend?

“Don’t be selfish now, Lucille,” Shanry elbowed her playfully.

Lucille knew perfectly well that none of her friends were being malicious about it, but there was still a pinprick of pain in her chest. She forced herself to keep smiling and opened her mouth to make it clear that she was going solo, but she froze when she saw the collective looks of shock on all their faces. She racked her brains for a better way to say it, but that was when she felt a warm hand settle on her bare shoulder.

She turned around, and her heart nearly exploded with joy. “Dimitri!”

“Correct on the first try,” he said dryly, but his eyes were shining with humor. He faced her stunned coworkers and did a quick but graceful little bow. “Good evening.”

None of them uttered a word.

Lucille couldn’t blame them. She herself could hardly believe that Dimitri—who’d made it clear last Saturday that he wouldn’t come—was here now, wearing a suit as black as shadows, standing behind her with his hair neatly trimmed and slicked back. A balloon of joy swelled inside her, making her eyes tear up. She was so happy she couldn’t string a coherent sentence.

Dimitri must have mistaken her elation with hurt, because his expression quickly turned serious.

“Excuse us,” he told the others. Without waiting for an answer, he draped an arm around her waist and steered her into a corner, away from the crowd. Once alone, he lowered his head, examining her face closely. “Lucille? What’s wrong? Are you—?”

"You came," Lucille warbled. Then she wrapped her arms around his torso like little girl.

And much to her surprise, she didn't pass through him. He was solid. He was warm. His entire essence was here tonight, in the ball she'd invited him to.

She hugged him tighter.

Dimitri's body went stiff for a second, but eventually he returned her embrace, his thumbs delicately placed on her hipbones. She pressed her chin against his chest and looked up, only to see him smiling fondly at her. With his suit, in this light, and with that smile, he looked better than all supermodels combined.

The man was nothing if not full of surprises, Lucille thought.

"You came," she repeated, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. "You said gods don't do such things."

"Sometimes they do," he replied. When she raised an eyebrow, he tilted his head. "Don't make me regret my decision now, Lucille. I just dropped by to check on you."

"Oh, is that why you dressed up so impeccably?" Lucille pulled away from him and touched the tip of his black hair. "Is that why you got a trim? Is that why your full essence is here?"

"Yes," Dimitri replied hastily, but it didn't matter. She already knew the answer. He took her hand and lowered it back to its original position while she continued to beam at him. "Alright, alright. I did come to be your date. I felt bad about turning you down. Although, if you would've called any day for the past week, I would've agreed."

"So you just needed a bit of convincing?"

"Yes. And perhaps a little incentive."

Lucille let out a hearty laugh. "Would a dance be enough?"

He shrugged. "I'll take whatever you can give."

Laughing one more time, she broke free from their hug and looped her arm around his. Many heads turned in his direction as they approached the dance floor. As usual, he paid them no mind. Neither did she. There was only the slow, mellow music and his presence and the knowledge that he was fully here tonight, for her.

She couldn't help bouncing a little in her spot as she faced him again. Her giddy jump made him smile as he took her hand in one of his and held her by the waist with the other. They swayed together in time with the soft song, drawing closer together with every step.

Soon, Lucille let go of his hand so she could put both of hers at the back of his neck. He responded by pulling her closer, his palms warm on her bare back as she nestled against his chest.

"I must say, you do clean up very nicely," he whispered playfully. When she punched him on the shoulder, he laughed and amended, "What I mean to say is, you look beautiful tonight. But then again, you always have been beautiful."

Her heart fluttered. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Silence passed between them. Lucille didn't know why, but there was something oddly comforting about being in Dimitri's arms like this. She could almost stay here forever. The steady rhythm of his heart was as calming as a lullaby. She found herself closing her eyes, letting herself melt into the moment. . . .

But then she remembered her strange dreams, particularly the one where she'd practically drooled over him, only to end up getting shanked. She remembered his words when she'd woken up from her week-long slumber, how regretful and seemingly apologetic he'd been that day, like he'd just done something wrong to her.

*"Your soft side is rare," he'd muttered that day, "But I hope you spare me a bit of your tenderness when you finally remember."*

He still hadn't explained that, among many other things. In fact, he hadn't explained anything much at all, especially when it came to her past.

Lucille stared up at him. "Dimitri, why are you here?"

Her tone was gentle, but he flinched like she'd hit him. "You know why I'm here. I just told you."

"No, not tonight. Not just tonight." She held his gaze. "Why are you always there when I need you? Why do you always come when I ask you to? You're a god. I'm still a mere mortal. What is it about me or my situation that makes me different?"

Dimitri shrugged and forced some humor back into his voice. "To be fair, I do help Agnes a lot too."

Lucille didn't say anything. She just watched him, his expression going from easygoing to absolutely grave. She wasn't even annoyed at him for stalling; she was just genuinely curious, genuinely eager to know the truth.

"Is it because of my secret? Is it because of me?" she continued to press him. "Is it because of us?"

She got his full attention now. There was an almost tangible wave of apprehension emanating from him, but he didn't look away from her eyes. He didn't pull away. He just watched her as they danced, his features going soft and forming an expression she couldn't fully describe.

"I don't know, really," he said at last, averting his gaze. "I think it has something to do with the woman you used to be, and more so with the woman you are now."

"What do you mean?" She took his chin and made him face her. "Did we . . . Is there something more to us in the past?"

"I can't answer that, Lucille, I'm sorry." Dimitri put his hand on hers and gently guided it away. "This I can say for sure: I'm here when you need me. I still have a lot to prove, a lot to atone for."

Lucille kept her voice even. "What have you done before? Why does it need atonement and—"

"Oh, there she is!"

The rest of her words were cut when a female voice suddenly interrupted.

Since she was locked in her questions, Lucille didn't notice immediately that the source of the voice was Jamie, who was walking briskly towards them.

And trailing right after her was no other than Cade, wearing a black suit that resembled Dimitri's in an uncanny level.

Lucille stopped dancing at once, taking one step away from Dimitri. She opened her mouth to tell him that they got company. However, she didn't manage to say what her wanted to, because by the time he was trying to get the first word out, Cade and Jamie had already caught up with them.

Dimitri turned around to follow Lucille's line of sight, and his eyes immediately narrowed when he saw Cade.

Still, he extended a hand to Cade, a slow, cold smile making his lips curl. "Hello. You must be Lucille's boss."