OVERLOOKED TO IRRESISTIBLE

Chapter 3: DOMINIC HARTLEY

Aria threw the invitation across her apartment.

It landed on top of a moving box, the gold lettering catching the overhead light like it was mocking her. She wanted to rip it into tiny pieces. She wanted to burn it. She wanted to go back in time and tell her seventeen-year-old self that leaving New York was the smartest thing she'd ever do, and coming back was the dumbest.

Instead, she poured herself a glass of wine she couldn't afford and sat on her futon, staring at the offensive piece of cardstock.

Important to me. I want you there.

"Unbelievable," she said to her empty apartment. "He wants me there."

Her phone buzzed. A text from Ethan: "Got home safe? Was really great seeing you tonight. Let's do Tuesday for dinner? I know a great Italian place in the West Village."

Aria stared at the message. He'd gone home to Sienna, the woman he was marrying in a few weeks, and now he was texting her about dinner. What was she supposed to do with that?

She typed and deleted three responses before settling on: "Tuesday works. Text me the address."

Professional. Friendly. Not at all like her heart was splintering into pieces.

She fell asleep on the futon still wearing her dress, the invitation visible from the corner of her eye.

The next morning, Aria woke up with a headache and a determination to be an adult about this situation. So Ethan was getting engaged. So what? People got engaged all the time. She'd go to the party, smile, congratulate them, and prove to herself and everyone else that she'd moved on.

She just needed to survive the week first.

Work helped. Charlotte kept her so busy that Aria barely had time to think about anything except artist portfolios and exhibition layouts. By Friday, she'd secured three promising artists for the Brooklyn show and managed to not screw up any major tasks.

"You're doing better than I expected," Charlotte said, which Aria had learned was the closest thing to a compliment she'd get. "Keep it up."

Small victories.

That evening, Aria stood in front of her closet trying to figure out what someone wore to their ex-best-friend's engagement party. Everything she owned was either too casual or too obviously trying too hard.

Her phone rang. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Aria Castellano?" A woman's voice, professional and crisp. "This is Victoria from Saks Fifth Avenue. We have a dress on hold for you. The gentleman said you'd be picking it up today?"

"I think you have the wrong person. I didn't order anything."

"The note says it's for the Plaza event tomorrow night. From..." Papers rustled. "E.B.? Does that mean anything to you?"

Aria's stomach clenched. Ethan had bought her a dress. For his engagement party. To his fiancée.

"There's been a mistake," Aria said. "I can't accept that."

"Oh." Victoria sounded disappointed. "Well, it's already paid for. If you change your mind, we're open until nine."

Aria hung up and immediately called Ethan.

"Hey!" He sounded happy to hear from her. "What's up?"

"Did you buy me a dress?"

A pause. "I wanted to make sure you had something nice to wear tomorrow. Is that weird? That's probably weird."

"It's extremely weird, Ethan."

"I just thought... I don't know. I want you to feel comfortable tomorrow. And I know New York is expensive when you're just starting out, so..." He trailed off. "I'm making this worse, aren't I?"

Aria sat down on her futon, torn between laughing and screaming. "You can't buy me a dress for your engagement party."

"Why not? I used to buy you coffee all the time in high school."

"Coffee is five dollars. A dress from Saks is not five dollars."

"So what? I have the money. Let me do this."

There was something in his voice, something almost desperate, that made her pause. This wasn't just about the dress. This was about something else, something Ethan probably couldn't even name.

"I already have a dress," she lied.

"Aria..."

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

She hung up before he could argue and threw her phone on the couch. This was insane. All of it. Ethan was getting engaged and texting her constantly and buying her dresses. Meanwhile, she was sitting in her tiny apartment pretending any of this was normal.

Her phone buzzed again. She grabbed it, ready to tell Ethan to stop, but the text wasn't from him.

Unknown number: "The offer stands if you change your mind."

Aria stared at the message, confused. Then she remembered. The man from the gallery. The stranger who'd watched her drink too much champagne and offered cryptic observations about art.

She deleted the text and tried to forget about it.

Saturday arrived too quickly.

Aria wore the black dress from the gallery opening because it was the only thing appropriate enough. She did her makeup three times, her hands shaking each attempt. By the time her Uber pulled up to The Plaza, she was seriously considering telling the driver to just keep going to the airport.

The hotel's rooftop venue was even more intimidating than she'd imagined. White flowers everywhere, champagne towers, and people who looked like they'd stepped out of a magazine. Aria immediately felt underdressed and out of place.

She was about to turn around and leave when she saw them.

Ethan and Sienna stood near the center of the space, surrounded by well-wishers. Sienna wore a white cocktail dress that probably cost more than Aria's monthly rent, her blonde hair perfectly styled. She was laughing at something someone said, one hand resting possessively on Ethan's arm.

They looked perfect together. Like a photograph from a society magazine.

Aria's chest tightened. What was she doing here?

"Running already? You just got here."

She spun around and found herself face to face with the man from the gallery. He looked even more expensive in a tailored navy suit, holding two champagne glasses like he'd been expecting her.

"I..." Aria's brain struggled to form words. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited. What's your excuse?" He offered her a glass. "You look like you need this more than I do."

"I was invited too." She took the champagne defensively. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Fair enough." He studied her with that same unsettling intensity from the gallery. "So are you going to actually go in, or are you going to stand in the doorway all night looking like you're about to be executed?"

"I'm working up to it."

"Take your time. I hear The Plaza has excellent architecture. You could study the door frame for another twenty minutes."

Despite everything, Aria almost smiled. "You're kind of an asshole."

"I prefer 'refreshingly honest,' but asshole works too." He tilted his head toward the party. "Come on. If you're going to torture yourself, might as well do it with good champagne."

Before she could respond, a voice called out. "Dominic! There you are."

A tall brunette in a designer dress swept over, kissing the man's cheek. "Mother's been looking for you everywhere. She wants you to meet the Vanderbilts."

"Tell her I'm networking," Dominic said.

The woman noticed Aria for the first time, her smile turning curious. "And who's this?"

"Aria Castellano," Aria said before Dominic could answer. "I'm... a friend of Ethan's."

"How nice." The woman's tone suggested it was anything but. "I'm sure my sister will be thrilled to meet you. She loves Ethan's little friends from Brooklyn."

My sister.

Aria's stomach dropped as understanding crashed over her. This was Sienna's brother. The man from the gallery, the one who'd watched her have a minor breakdown over champagne, was Dominic Hartley.

"Proper introduction," Dominic said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Aria, meet my half-sister, Victoria. Victoria, Aria is the curator I mentioned. The one with opinions about emotional depth in contemporary art."

Victoria looked between them, clearly sensing something she didn't understand, before shrugging. "Well, come find Mother when you're done networking." She glided away, leaving them alone.

Aria stared at Dominic. "You knew who I was at the gallery."

"I suspected."

"And you didn't think to mention you were Sienna's brother?"

"You didn't ask." He took a sip of his champagne. "Besides, you seemed like you needed someone who wasn't connected to your complicated history. Consider it a temporary reprieve."

"That's manipulative."

"Probably." Dominic gestured toward the party. "So. Dominic Hartley, hotel mogul and occasional art investor. Now that we've been properly introduced, are you actually going to go inside, or would you prefer to keep hiding in doorways?"

Aria looked past him at the party. At Ethan laughing with Sienna. At the life he'd built that had never included her as more than a footnote.

"I'm going in," she said, lifting her chin. "I was invited, after all."

"That's the spirit." Dominic's smile was sharp. "This should be entertaining."

They walked into the party together, and Aria told herself she was ready for this. She could handle seeing Ethan and Sienna celebrate their engagement. She was an adult. She'd moved on.

Then Sienna spotted them, and her smile froze.