The Blake Foundation Charity Gala was not optional.
Hazel found that out the moment a formal invitation arrived—sealed in gold, engraved in silver, and delivered by hand.
She held it like it might bite.
Adrian, of course, was already dressed in black tie that evening. Perfect as always.
"You're not going to get out of this," he said, not unkindly.
Hazel groaned from inside the closet. "Do I have to talk to people?"
"Yes."
"Smile at them?"
He hesitated. "Preferably."
"Pretend I know the difference between hedge funds and hedge trimmers?"
"…Yes."
She peeked out. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
That tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
⸻
When Hazel entered the ballroom that night, she didn't feel like an heiress.
She felt like a fraud in heels.
But the moment Adrian stepped beside her—silent, calm, solid—the room quieted.
All eyes turned.
She straightened her spine.
If she was going to play this role, she might as well rewrite the script.
⸻
The event was exactly what she feared—sharp smiles, sharper eyes, and conversations that felt like negotiations.
Hazel nodded, laughed at the right times, and even managed a polite debate about philanthropy with a woman who had diamonds larger than Hazel's earlobes.
She was doing okay.
Until someone brought up the elephant in the room.
"So, Erin," one board member's wife said sweetly, "you've… mellowed out lately. Detox? Meditation? Spiritual awakening?"
Hazel smiled. "Something like that. Near-death experiences really put things in perspective."
The woman blinked.
The entire table blinked.
Hazel took a sip of wine, unbothered.
Another man chuckled. "Well, whatever it is—it's working. I daresay Adrian hasn't looked this relaxed in years."
Hazel glanced at him.
Adrian didn't react.
But then he said, calmly, "I like her this way."
A hush fell over the table.
Hazel stared.
He hadn't said it to the room.
He'd said it to her.
Directly.
Her heart stuttered.
⸻
Later, in the garden behind the venue, she leaned against the stone railing overlooking the city lights.
Adrian joined her silently.
"You didn't have to say that," she said.
"I meant it," he replied.
She looked at him. "Why?"
A pause.
"Because you're not pretending," he said. "Everyone else is."
Hazel laughed softly. "That's… kind of sad."
He didn't argue.
Instead, he added, "But refreshing."
She turned to him fully. "You know… I was terrified I'd mess up tonight."
"You didn't."
"You saved me."
"You didn't need saving."
Hazel felt something shift again. Not dramatic. Not explosive.
But real.
"Would it be so bad," she asked quietly, "if this contract turned into something else?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Not with words.
But his hand brushed hers on the railing.
And stayed there.