My heart stopped, lips parted. He was talking about Uncle! Grayson gently lifted me off him, placing me back on the couch. He stood up, adjusting his bow tie.

He looked at his phone. “We have a funeral to get to.” He then eyed me. “You need to get dressed.”

“Get dressed?”

“There are only so many formal functions I can take you to dressed like a Vatican escapee. It’s hanging in my closet.”

I followed him to his closet. Inside, amid suits and jeans and jackets worth more than house payments, a dress hung, its silver embellishments catching the light.

It was…beautiful.

It was also somehow so me.

“Did you buy this for me?” I asked, stunned.

“No,” he said.

My heart dropped.

“I had it made.”

And just like that I couldn’t breathe.

“It should fit perfectly.” His fingers lightly grazed my spine, trailing down until his hand rested right above my ass. “Silver will look beautiful on you.”

I also knew enough to know a dress like this would require assistance to put on, but at the moment all I could think about was his hand at the small of my back, eyes blazing into mine.

“It will show your collarbone,” he mused.

I licked my lips, and his eyes dropped to them. “That’s okay.”

“It wasn’t you I was worried about.”

There was a knock on his door, and we separated. He went to one side, tangling his hands through his hair, and I went to the other.

“She’ll help you get dressed.”

“You let someone come here? Wait, who—” I broke off, spotting Ellie.

“Your foot, miss,” Ellie said.

“I’m not a miss,” I tried for what must have been the thousandth time. “I’m me, Ellie.” Ellie said nothing, holding the dress out for me. With a sigh I stepped into it.

She buttoned up the back, and I stared into the mirror at the stranger in silver. It was an A-line, long-sleeved gown that covered my shoulders in patterns of sheer silver that shone like liquid in the light.

It was also airy enough for summer.

“Anything else, miss?” Ellie asked, once she’d finished. Her eyes were on the floor.

My shoulders fell. “Ellie, please. Please talk to me. I miss you.”

“If that’s all, I need to get back down for Ms. Abigail’s engagement.” She bowed her head and left. Tears filled my throat. Of joy. Of confusion. Of fear. I loved myself in this dress, and I hated myself in it.

When I came out, Grayson was leaning against the wall next to the double doors, on his phone. When he saw me, his phone slipped from his hand with a clang to the hardwood, eyes steel.

“What?” I looked at the dress, thinking I’d somehow already managed to spill something.

“Nothing,” he said, voice choked. He bent down to pick up his phone, and that was all we spoke.