Page 28 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

The worker’s eyes widened as he stammered, “I couldn’t possibly… This is too much.”

Grace smiled mischievously as she closed the man’s hands around the cash. “I insist.”

She ushered the man out of the suite, refusing to hear his protests.

“Have a good day! And if you see Ms. Silver, make sure to tell her it was me who tipped you.”

Grace slammed the door with a little too much fervor.Well, if she is going to insist I act rich and play along, I’m going to at least do it in style.

Grace sat, grabbing the cappuccino and drinking deeply before she opened the envelope. Inside was a handwritten note.

Grace, I’ve been pulled into meetings until dinner. Please enjoy the spa day I’ve booked for you. - E.

Of course her handwriting was pristine. She threw the note down in frustration and leaned back in her chair. Climbing those walls was going to be a lot harder if she couldn’t even find Elara.

11

Elara paced outside the suite door, wondering if she should go inside or retreat to the dining room and wait for Grace there. Even though she had spent the day delving into business meetings and hikes, Elara had felt like part of her very being was pulling her toward this door the whole time. When she had met the investors for a coffee break, she couldn’t help but wonder if Grace had enjoyed her cappuccino this morning. While out on the hike, she watched her siblings and their spouses hold hands as they trekked through the snow, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have Grace’s hand warmed between hers.

Several times she had caught herself daydreaming about the way Grace had fit so perfectly in her arms. Instead of shop talk, she had wished she could hear Grace moan her name again. It was maddening. She felt consumed, swallowed whole by emotions and desires that she refused to name or give credence to. Less than a week ago, Grace was just a bad secretary who Elara was considering firing. Yet now, she somehow felt empty without her bubbly presence lighting up the room.

Elara straightened her spine as she paced past the door, deciding she would turn on her heel and leave. She couldn’t let herself get so caught up in this delusion, because that was all it was. A very pleasant, persistent delusion. As she made her way to the end of the hall, she felt frozen, unable to call the elevator and run from Grace’s orbit. She ran her hands through her hair, mussing her perfectly straight hair.

Dammit.

She walked back toward the suite door slowly, wondering if she was making a mistake yet again. Before she could change her mind once again, Grace opened the door. The two looked at each other silently, both shocked at the other’s presence. Elara searched Grace’s face, unsure what she would find in her expression, and afraid of why she was so desperate to know what Grace was thinking. Grace’s eyes slowly softened as she took in Elara, her glance pausing at Elara’s hair. Elara quickly smoothed her hair as she scrounged her brain for anything to say.

Grace beat her to the punch. “Elara, what on earth are you doing out here? I thought you would be downstairs.”

Elara’s eyes swept Grace from head to toe, appreciating the long-sleeved black dress that sparkled darkly as it pooled down to the floor. She averted her gaze as she finally answered. “I came to escort you.”

She looked up at Grace, seeing her light up and felt her stomach twist as her heart flipped.No, she thought.I can’t get caught up again.

She continued, “I thought it may seem strange if we arrived separately. I wouldn’t want to give the family any reason to question the status of our relationship.”

Grace deflated, her light and joyful personality dimming almost visibly. She stepped into the hall and turned her back to Elara as she shut the door, muttering under her breath.“We wouldn’t wantanyoneto question the status of ourrelationship.”

Elara’s heart raced, and every thought disappeared as she took in how the low, backless cut of the dress scooped down to the base of Grace’s spine. She inhaled sharply, trying to clear her mind and find control. Instead, Grace’s sweet honey and cream scent filled her lungs. She felt as if she was being pulled into a black hole, her control slowly disintegrating as she orbited closer to the center.

Grace never turned back toward Elara and took no notice of the desire dripping through her veins. She simply turned toward the elevator and started walking with purpose, her heels clicking loudly. Elara stood frozen, watching and appreciating Grace’s retreat. She closed her eyes and rubbed her hands over her face as if she could wipe away the image of the fabric teasingly shifting over Grace’s curves. Unable to exit her orbit, Elara followed the pull of Grace as she strode down the hall and closed the distance between the two.

The bell chimed, and the doors slid open, revealing the mirrored wall of the elevator. Grace looked up at her reflection and locked eyes with Elara as she stepped up behind her. Elara placed her hand on the small of Grace’s back and guided her into the elevator. She felt as if her hand burned, singed by the heat of Grace’s body. Not wanting to lose the thin sliver of control she could maintain, Elara snatched her hand back and leaned back against the elevator wall. Grace slowly turned to face the doors, doing her best not to look over at Elara, who had not looked away once.

The dining room buzzed with the low murmur of conversation and the soft clink of silverware against china. Elara sat perfectly upright, her posture impeccable, glancing now and then at her parents, who were deep in conversation with her siblings. She was alert to every small gesture from her family, each subtle shift in tone—a reminder that she had to keep her guard up.

Her father raised his glass for a toast, his voice booming. “To Elara, for yet another success under her belt. This celebration has been spectacular so far. May she continue to bring the family pride.”

A wave of polite applause circled the table, and Elara gave a small, restrained smile. But her fingers, hidden beneath the table, tapped restlessly against her leg. She could feel Grace watching her from beside her, the warmth of her gaze like a faint current, hard to ignore.

The familiar question came, sharp and clear, from her mother. “Elara, darling, you’ve certainly made strides in the business lately. It’s wonderful to see you finally accomplish something and how much more complete your life seems now that you have begun to consider the next steps and continuing the family legacy.”

Elara’s smile tightened, irritation curling at the edges of her composure. Her eyes dropped to her plate, a dozen cutting replies lined up in her mind. But before she could speak, Grace’s hand covered hers, gentle and steady.

“Actually,” Grace began, her voice warm but firm, “I think Elara’s accomplished more than most could even dream of in her position. She’s already achieved so much—and she’s done it all while balancing expectations that most people wouldn’t understand.”

Elara’s chest tightened, her hand still beneath Grace’s touch. She glanced sideways, caught off guard by Grace’s sincerity, bythe calm conviction in her voice. Grace was looking straight at her mother, undeterred by the sharp gaze fixed on her.

“Oh?” her mother’s brow arched delicately. “And what expectations would those be?”

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