Page 15 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

Deciding that her hair wasn’t going to get any better, Grace smoothed her hands over the thigh slit in her muted gold dress, making sure that everything was in place. Looking at herself in the mirror, Grace felt pleased with how she looked. The off-the-shoulder neckline showcased her collarbones and the barest hint of the swell of her breasts, but the long sleeves and floor-length hem kept the details demure. Everything was picture-perfect, just like the Silver family.

As she opened the door to the bathroom, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Elara in cream slacks and a gold sweater that perfectly matched Grace’s dress. Elara's sharp lines looked sculpted by an artist. At the sound of Grace entering, Elara turned around and stopped short. Grace could feel Elara’s cool gaze travel up her body, assessing her inch by inch. She should feel cold and insecure, but her skin burned every place that Elara’s gaze lingered. The two stood in silence for a moment, intense gazes not quite meeting the eyes.

Eventually, Elara simply held out her hand. “Ready?”

Plate after plate of the most divine seafood dishes passed in front of Grace. Her eyes couldn’t help but grow wide with each course served. Ceviche, seared scallops, smoked salmon blini, paella, and more. Each course was served with a white wine pairing,keeping the conversation flowing with a growing volume. Grace ate in silence, watching closely as the Silver family conversed as if they were holding court. Not wanting to be the victim of too much alcohol once again, Grace continued to sneakily pour her wine into the plant beside the table. It felt like a crime to waste such delicious—and probably ridiculously expensive—wine, but if she was going to keep up with the Silver family, she needed to be clear-headed.

As the assortment of dessert tarts were served, everyone’s attention suddenly turned to her. Swirling his wine slowly as he looked between Elara and Grace with a sharp gaze, Victor asked, “So, Grace, how exactly did the two of you meet again? Through mutual friends, was it?”

The pit of her stomach dropped. Grace knew this was somehow a trap, but she had no choice but to answer him.

“Yes. Friends of ours thought we would hit it off.” Grace turned to Elara, silently begging for help. “And they were right.”

Smiling tightly, Elara’s fingers brushed the stem of her wine glass as if to anchor herself. Yet she said nothing, her lips frozen in place.

Margaret tilted her head, offering a polite but clearly skeptical smile. “Which friends, dear? I don’t think I’ve heard of any new names.”

Grace again looked to Elara, hoping for her to cut in, but Elara’s eyes were wide, her smile still frozen in place.

Looking back to Elara’s mother, she replied, “Oh, um...Diane and, uh, Steven? You probably wouldn’t know them. They’re not exactly in your circle.”

Victor cut in, his smile still in place but never reaching his eyes, “Ah, Steven and Diane. And what do they do?”

Panic began to take root, making Grace’s head swim. Searching for any excuse to think, Grace slowly sipped her wineas she tried desperately to make eye contact with Elara, who was stoically still staring at nothing.

Dread filled her veins. “Steven is in tech. And Diane’s a, uh, florist.”

Margaret chuckled softly, exchanging a glance with Victor. “Interesting pair. I’d love to meet them sometime.”

Unable to take Elara’s silence, Grace swiftly kicked her under the table in a last-ditch effort to salvage the situation. Finally coming out of her stupor, Elara coughed before she interjected, “Well, they travel a lot—Europe, mostly. They’re not around much.”

Eleanor set her wine glass down with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Well, isn’t that convenient?”

Forcing a smile in a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood, Grace replied, “It really was, though! The timing worked out perfectly.”

Eleanor’s eyes twinkled as she leaned forward slightly. “Yes, I can imagine. Timing is everything, especially with...these kinds of arrangements.”

A loaded silence hung over the table as Elara shot her grandmother a warning look. The sound of a champagne bottle being popped made Grace jerk, the tension in the room having wound her tight. Glasses clinked as the bubbly liquid was poured. The guests began to file over to the window where the waiters were handing out flutes near the warm fire. Grace jumped out of her seat, thanking the heavens for the excuse to flee this situation, although her relief was short-lived.

Following close behind her, Victor picked up a flute and handed one over to Grace. Elara stiffly walked up to Grace as Victor joined Margaret on the couch. Leaning back, Victor continued his inquisition. “So, Grace, what is it you do? Elara hasn’t told us much about you.”

Grace’s smile faltered as she gulped down the entire glass of champagne. Her voice wavered as she replied, “Oh, well, I dabble in a few things.”

Finally coming to the rescue, Elara swiftly interjected, “Grace is very creative. She’s between projects right now, but she’s always got something exciting going on.”

Margaret arched a brow, giving a sweet but pointed look. “Between projects? How...interesting.”

Grace snatched another flute of champagne from a passing waiter and drank deeply, desperately hoping to find a solution to this mess at the bottom of her glass.

Eleanor smirked as she leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying the tension.

“Well, at least Elara finally found someone who keeps her on her toes. And you two must be very close already to vacation together.”

Trying too hard to sound casual, Grace replied, “Oh, absolutely! We’re practically inseparable.”

Grace downed the last of her champagne, warmth spreading through her chest as realization hit. There was only one way to salvage this. Straightening her spine, she stepped into Elara’s personal space, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. Without missing a beat, she turned to the family with a deliberate smile.

“Well, this has certainly been an interesting night.”

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