Chapter Three

I woke up very early the next day. It was like my psyche was shaking me to my senses and tapping me to wake up.

Right. I'd made a deal with my friend, hadn't I? Get laid, and that was it. It was time to go.

Chris.

His name vibrated through me as I thought about our night together. Stealing a glance at him, I drew a stilling breath. He was the closest thing to perfect she'd ever had the pleasure of encountering. Sad it was just a one night thingy.

Rising from the bed slowly, careful not to disturb him, I picked up my clothes littered on the marbled floor. Then dressing as soundlessly as I could, before I made my way out of the room, closing the door with a quiet a click as I could manage.

All the way down the stairs to the lobby, I felt a massive urge to turn back. Last night with Chris was surreal. I felt something, don't know what it is, but it would have been nice to see it through, if the situation was different. But it wasn't. I told myself anyways, as i hailed down a cab.

Settling into the cab, I tried and failed to force Chris out from my thoughts. I'd thought about leaving a note, but decided that would be corny — an over-explanation at best. Waking up to see I was gone was message enough.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling it out, I glanced at the blinking message. It was from my Mom.

The text message read:

"Where are you? We've a dinner date to prepare for."

"Dinner date?" I said out loud, slipping my phone back into my pocket

The cab driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror but said nothing. I leaned back against the seat, the remnants of last night clinging to me like a lingering haze. Chris's face flashed in my mind again, and I sighed. This was not how I envisioned starting my day.

As the city whizzed past, my thoughts shifted back to my mom's text. A dinner date? She must mean with her new billionaire fiancé. The reality of it all hit me like a splash of cold water. This was no ordinary dinner—it was likely my official introduction to the man who was about to change our lives.

The cab pulled up to our apartment, and I paid the fare before stepping out. The air smelled faintly of rain, and the early morning sun cast a soft glow over the building. I climbed the stairs to our apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last.

When I opened the door, my mom was in the kitchen, humming a tune as she prepped vegetables. She looked up when she heard me come in, her face lighting up with a smile.

"There you are! I was starting to worry," she said, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Did you stay over at Jessica's?"

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, we had a late night."

"Well, I hope you got some rest because tonight’s a big deal. We’re meeting Robert," she said, her voice tinged with nervous excitement.

Robert. That must be him—the man who would soon be my stepfather. My stomach twisted.

"Do I have to?" I asked, leaning against the counter. "I mean, it’s your relationship, not mine."

"Stella," she said gently, placing a hand on my arm. "I know this is a lot for you, but Robert wants to get to know you. He’s going to be a big part of our lives."

I swallowed my frustration and nodded. "Okay, fine. What time is this dinner?"

"Seven o'clock," she replied. "We need to go prep up. Do some shopping, and then manis and pedis too."

I roll my eyes. "We don't have money for all of that, mom."

"Oh, don't worry, Robert has given me some money." she admitted.

"You're already taking money from him?" I asked, shocked.

"Why not? He's going to be my husband in a few weeks."

I sighed. "Any other surprises?"

"Robert’s bringing his son, so it’ll be a full house." she said.

His son? My interest piqued slightly. I hadn’t considered that this new arrangement would come with other family members. "He has a son? How old is he?"

"About your age, or maybe older I think," Mom said, shrugging. "I don’t know much about him, but Robert says he’s a good kid."

Great. Just what I needed—another reminder of how complicated my life was becoming.

"Alright, I’ll be ready," I said, pushing off the counter. "I’m going to shower."

As I headed to my room, the thought of dinner with Robert and his son loomed over me. I had no idea what to expect, but one thing was clear—my life was changing faster than I could keep up.

The hot water cascading over me did little to wash away the unease swirling in my mind. My mom’s excitement was palpable, but I couldn’t summon the same enthusiasm. Robert—her soon-to-be husband—was still a stranger to me. And now, his son? A new layer of uncertainty I wasn’t prepared to face.

After my shower, I dressed in something casual but presentable, knowing Mom would likely drag me out for a "shopping spree" before the day was over. True to her word, she was waiting by the door with her purse and an overly chipper grin.

"Ready?" she chirped.

"Do I have a choice?" I muttered under my breath but followed her out anyway.

We spent the afternoon hopping from one boutique to another, Mom insisting on trying on dresses while I begrudgingly picked out something suitable for dinner. She settled on a flowing, emerald-green gown that made her look stunning—almost radiant. I had to admit, seeing her this happy softened some of my irritation.

By the time we were done, I was armed with a sleek black dress and a pair of uncomfortable heels I’d probably regret later. We barely had enough time to squeeze in her much-anticipated mani-pedi session before rushing home to get ready.