I never expected to walk in and find my best friend kissing her man, yet here I was, witnessing it.
“Heard of knocking?” Dillon’s voice cut through the air, sharp and a bit grumpy. The man who’d swept Azzaria off her feet stood before me. His sharp three-piece suit, commanding presence, and powerful words spoke of his success, but it was his love for Azzy that truly defined him.
“Sheknew I was coming. I need to gouge my eyes out after seeing that.” I pretended to gag. “Are you brooding because I’m her favorite?”
“Says who?” Dillon challenged.
“Her,” I shot back without missing a beat. “You don’t stand a chance againstme, Xander.”
“Abigail,” Azzaria warned playfully, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Sorry,” I muttered, though my mischievous grin betrayed any hint of sincerity. “As much as I’d love to stay, I have work. Happy Birthday, Dillon, and bye Azzy.I love you, Precious.”
I threw in those words just to piss him off.
“Crossing a line there, Abigail,” Dillon admonished.
“Maybe,” I replied, my tone unapologetic.
“Your first interaction and this is how it’s going?Great,” Azzaria remarked sarcastically, breaking the tension with her light-hearted remark.
“It’s not our first,” both Dillon and I chimed in simultaneously.
“I mean the first where I’m present, and I hope you guys won’t be doing this every damn time,” Azzaria added firmly.
“Boo hoo,” I retorted with a playful roll of my eyes, blowing a kiss to Azzaria. “I seriously have to go. Bye, Azzy. Don’t miss me too much.”
“She won’t,” Dillon shouted after me, his tone tinged with sarcasm, eliciting a chuckle from me as I made my exit.
The worst part of my brain was that it never stopped. My entire shift was consumed by thoughts of the gala—every detail spinning in my head. Would I even fit in? I could barely picture myself in a room full of polished strangers. It wasn’t about the dress—I could easily buy one—but the thought of being there, out of place, felt overwhelming. What if I wasn’t graceful or confident enough?
Then I thought about Mikkel. He wanted me there. His words echoed in my head—steady, certain.You belong there. Never doubt that.
I opened my phone with the hopes of telling Mikkel I’d go with him but a call from Azzaria lit up the screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” I answered the phone, greeting Azzaria as I dropped into the sofa, exhausted from my morning shift.
“I need you to meet me at the residency in like fifteen minutes. There’s a gala tonight.”
I sighed in disbelief.How fitting that she asked that exact question at this exact moment?
“But I don’t have anything to wear to a gala,” I protested.
“Don’t stress about it. Just be there,” Azzaria insisted before ending the call. “I’ll explain everything once I see you.”
I showered quickly, gathered my things, and rushed over to Azzaria’s place. The moment I stepped inside, I froze. The scene before me looked like something straight out of a movie. Racks of stunning dresses lined the walls, an enticing spread of food covered the centre table, and the whole setup carried just enough flair to feel cinematic. This definitely had Dillon Xander written all over it.
A woman with a polite smile approached me. “Good afternoon. I’m Melinda, and you must be Ms. Abigail-Ann?”
“Abigail’s fine, and yes, that’s me,” I said with a nod.
I considered texting Mikkel to say I’d be at the gala but decided against it. Surprising him would be more fun—besides, he thought I was home sleeping.
“Do I even have to ask?” I teased when Azzaria walked in a few minutes later, looking every bit as shocked as I was.
She laughed, catching my meaning immediately. “Dillon’s a bitextreme, but his heart’s in the right place.”
“He’s also completely in love with you,” I said, giving her a pointed look. “And you deserve that kind of devotion.”