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We didn’t get anywhere, though—whenever I tried to act sexy, we both just started laughing.

“This place is gorgeous,” Ava says, looping her arm through mine as we enter the building.

“It really is,” I murmur, taking in the place. It looks like it belongs in a classy European movie, and I can’t help but feel like I shouldn’t be here.

But Ava adjusts my mask, steps back, and beams. “You look absolutely stunning, girl. You’re gonna kill it tonight.”

I give her an uneasy smile. What I’m wearing is gorgeous, sure—it’s a cream, low-cut dress covered in sparkly beadwork. The skirt isn’t nearly as poufy as Ava’s, and the sleeves hug my hands, leaving my long, thin fingers peaking out.

But as for the girl in the dress? She feels out of her element.

Why does it feel like everyone here knows my boyfriend cheated on me?

“Deep breaths, my friend,” Ava says, running her hands along my arms. Then she’s tugging on my hand, pulling me into the ballroom.

The room is classic—stone archways, a domed ceiling, the works. It truly feels like we’re in a palace.

To top it off, the entire room is cast in blue and purple lighting, with crystal chandeliers catching the light. The whole place looks magical.

“Dance with me,” Ava blurts, and before I can respond, she has me in her arms on the edge of the dance floor.

We spin through the crowd of elegant gowns and snug-fitting suits. As we do, Ava scans the room.

Bringing her gaze back to mine, she smiles shyly. “I may have told someone I was gonna be here tonight. Just seeing if she came.”

I laugh. “Good thing I didn’t let you give up your ticket. Damn, woman. You’re a bad planner.”

She levels me with a stupid grin. “At least I can actually function as a normal human being around my crushes.”

My face turns beet-red instantly. “Yes, I can! And I don’t have crushes on any of them. I’m just awkward.”

She giggles, glancing behind me. “You sure about that? Because I have a feeling you’re about to lose your shit.”

My eyes widen. No. There’s no way.

She spins me around, and I freeze. Three men stand at the edge of the room, chatting and sipping amber-colored liquid from their tumblers. Their simple black masks may cover their faces, but I’ve spent enough time secretly observing them to be able to spot them anywhere.

The way Oliver throws his head back when he laughs. Rhett’s calm facade that never lets up. And the habit Elliot has developed of running his thumb over his bottom lip.

God, it’s so fucking hot.

“That’s them, right?” Ava’s voice is too loud, and I cringe. “It’s gotta be. It’s gotta be!”

“It doesn’t matter.” I steer us toward the opposite side of the room. “I’m just their Friday morning entertainment. No way they’ll recognize me—or care if they do.”

But a small part of my heart begins to hope, even though I wish it wouldn’t. Elliot’s eyes flash through my mind, filled with intention and such clear sincerity.

My stomach jumps as I recall that Oliver said he read A Tale of Two Cities. Elliot asked me last week what one of my favorite books is, and I blurted it out without thinking. I sobbed when I read it in high school.

The song ends, and we head to the makeshift bar set up in the corner. Ava orders something from the bartender, but I just stick with punch. No alcohol for me tonight—I need to stay in control.

Otherwise, I might wake up tomorrow and find myself with my next ex-boyfriend from hell.

We find an empty table and sit down. With a smirk, Ava turns to me.

“They’re looking this way.”

I’m grateful for the semi-darkness of the room. This way, she can’t see me blushing again. “Well, maybe they’re looking at you.”

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