She winks and gives my shoulder an encouraging squeeze before gliding away.

After a brief detour at the chocolate fountain—which is worth all the hype—we grab some drinks from the bar and head to the dance floor. But before we’re able to fully enjoy ourselves, we come face-to-face with James and Daphne.

James’s face is stony and deceptively calm, so I wouldn’t think he was upset if I didn’t know him well. But since I do, I know this is his immense rage face, which I’d thankfully only seen a few times in the last seven years.

Daphne stays a few steps behind him, looking between the three of us with raised eyebrows.

“Gemma,” James says, bringing my attention back to him. “Happy New Year.”

“Hi, James,” I reply. “Happy New Year to you, too. Celeste, this is James. James, this is Celeste.”

Daphne doesn’t make any move to introduce herself, and honestly, I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t say anything, either, if I were in her super-awkward position.

At the sound of Celeste’s name, James winces, like he was hoping it wasn’t her and I confirmed his worst nightmare. While he and I dated, we did talk about each other’s exes, so her name must have rung a bell. He turns his body toward me like he’s trying to exclude Celeste from the conversation. “Is she… a friend?” he asks.

There’s a twinge of desperation in his eyes, like he wishes Celeste and I were just friends.

I can’t believe he has the gall to hope that Celeste and I are “just friends,” even after I told him I was bringing a date. Since we’re surrounded by our coworkers, I try to figure out how to tell him “fuck off” in a civil way. But before I can, Celeste wraps an arm around my waist.

“We’re together,” she says. “So, much more than friends.”

23: Gemma

Together?

Even though I know Celeste is putting up a front for my sake, hearing her say those words in front of James sends a thrill down my spine.

James coughs and shifts in obvious discomfort.

“Well, good luck, then,” he says. He has the nerve to look a bit hurt. How do you like the taste of your own medicine?

I stare him down until he finally breaks eye contact to turn back to Daphne. “Come on, let’s say hi to more people.”

Celeste’s lips slide into a mischievous grin as they leave.

When they’re out of earshot, she lets go of me and asks, “Well? How’d I do? Not bad right?”

I laugh. “You’re loving this.”

“I am,” she admits. “He’s such a prick.”