THE WRONG BRIDE

An Unexpected Invitation

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly over New York City, but I still felt like I was moving in a dream.

I sat at my small desk in the corner of the hotel’s main office. A large cup of black coffee sat next to my laptop, completely untouched. I hadn't slept at all last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing Julian’s intense gray eyes staring at me in that dark, empty ballroom. I kept remembering the deep, rough tone of his voice when he told me he wasn't talking about his missing pen.

"Clara! Good news!"

Arthur burst into the office, holding two large boxes of pastries. He looked bright and awake, totally unaffected by the drama from the day before.

"The kitchen staff worked all night," Arthur said, placing the boxes on my desk with a wide grin. "The new wedding cake is completely finished. It is perfectly straight, it has all six tiers, and there is zero chance of it falling over today. Vivienne won't have anything to scream about during the press breakfast."

I let out a huge sigh of relief, leaning back in my chair. "Thank god. I don't think my heart could take another disaster today."

"Speaking of disasters," Arthur murmured, lowering his voice as he leaned across the desk. "Have you spoken to the Ice King this morning? Did he send you a text? A message? Anything?"

"No, Arthur," I said, forcing myself to look at my computer screen. "And he isn't going to. Yesterday was a strange day, but today is a new day. He is busy with his family and his investors. We need to focus on our work."

"If you say so," Arthur sighed, looking disappointed. "But I still say the man is completely under your spell."

Before I could answer him, my phone buzzed loudly on the desk. My heart leaped into my throat when I saw the name on the screen.

Julian Vance.

My fingers shook slightly as I swiped the screen to open the text message. It was short and direct, just like him.

Are you in the hotel office? Come to the lobby cafe. We need to talk.

"Who is it?" Arthur asked, trying to peek at my phone.

"It’s just... a client," I lied quickly, sliding the phone into my blazer pocket. I stood up and smoothed down my skirt. "I need to go to the lobby to check on something. Stay here and monitor the flower deliveries, okay?"

"Sure, sure. A 'client,'" Arthur muttered with a knowing smirk.

I hurried out of the office before he could ask any more questions. As I rode the elevator down to the main lobby, my stomach was turning in nervous knots. Why did Julian want to see me? Was Vivienne angry about something else? Had his father found out about the argument yesterday?

When the elevator doors opened, I saw him immediately.

Julian was sitting at a small, private table in the corner of the luxury cafe. He looked incredibly handsome in a sharp grey suit, his dark hair perfectly styled. A cup of black coffee sat in front of him, but he wasn't drinking it. He was looking at his watch, his jaw tight with anxiety.

I took a deep breath, putting on my professional wedding planner mask, and walked over to his table.

"Good morning, Mr. Vance," I said softly.

Julian looked up, and the cold expression on his face instantly melted when his eyes met mine. He stood up immediately, pulling out the chair across from him. "Clara. Thank you for coming down."

"Is everything okay?" I asked, sitting down carefully. "Is there a problem with the press schedule or the morning decorations?"

"No, everything is fine with the schedule," Julian said, sitting back down. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the dark wooden table. He was so close that I could smell his familiar, woody cologne. "I didn't call you here to talk about the wedding decorations."

I blinked, my heart starting to beat a little faster. "Then... why am I here?"

Julian let out a short sigh, his gray eyes looking genuinely apologetic. "I wanted to apologize to you, Clara. For Vivienne’s behavior yesterday. Her demands about the gold swans were completely ridiculous and unfair. She had no right to yell at you or threaten your agency."

I was shocked. Billionaires like Julian Vance didn't usually apologize to the staff. They usually ignored problems or paid people to make them go away. But here he was, looking at me with pure honesty.

"It’s okay, Mr. Vance," I said, trying to keep my voice professional even though my inside was melting. "I am used to dealing with stressed brides. It’s part of my job."

"It shouldn't be," Julian said firmly, his voice dropping to a lower, rougher tone. His intense gaze locked onto my eyes, making my skin feel hot. "Vivienne can be... difficult. And I hate knowing that you are the one suffering because of this wedding."

He paused, clearing his throat as if he was trying to control his own emotions. He sat up a bit straighter, but his eyes never left mine.

"To make it up to you, I want to take you out for a meal," Julian said smoothly. "Just a quiet lunch away from the hotel. No wedding talk, no business talk. Just an apology from me to you."

My breath caught in my throat. A lunch? Alone with Julian? Outside of the hotel?

Every single professional alarm bell in my head started screaming at maximum volume. This was a terrible idea. He was the groom. His wedding was tomorrow. If anyone saw us together at a restaurant, the gossip magazines would destroy my career and ruin his family’s multi-billion-dollar merger.

"Julian... I don't think that's a good idea," I whispered, using his first name because we were alone in the corner. "You are getting married tomorrow. Vivienne is your fiancée. If she finds out—"

"Vivienne is currently at a four-hour spa appointment with her mother," Julian interrupted quietly, his jaw tightening slightly. "She won't know, and frankly, I don't care if she does. This isn't about her, Clara. This is about you and me."

You and me. Those three words sent a wave of delicious, painful pining straight to my heart. I wanted to say yes so badly it hurt. I wanted to sit across from him at a quiet restaurant and pretend, just for one hour, that he belonged to me instead of Vivienne. But I had to stay strong. I had to protect my heart and my job.

"I can't," I said, looking down at my hands on the table. My voice sounded small and broken. "I have too much work to do for the rehearsal tonight. I'm sorry, Julian."

Julian didn't look angry or offended by my rejection. Instead, a soft, sad smile touched his handsome lips. He reached across the table, his long fingers stopping just an inch away from my hand. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the warmth of his skin radiating toward mine. It was a slow, agonizing burn of unspoken desire.

"I understand," he murmured, his gray eyes full of an emotion that made my chest ache. "You are always the professional one, Clara. I admire that about you. But remember my offer. It stands even after tomorrow."

The implication of his words made my breath hitch. He was telling me that even after he became a married man, he would still want to see me. It was dangerous, it was wrong, but it was the most addictive thing I had ever felt.

"I should get back to work," I whispered, standing up quickly before I lost my strength completely.

"Clara," Julian called out softly as I turned to leave.

I stopped and looked back over my shoulder.

"Don't skip lunch today," he said, his voice warm and protective. "You look tired. Take care of yourself."

I nodded quickly and hurried back toward the elevators, my heart racing and my eyes burning with unshed tears. He hadn't kissed me, he hadn't even touched me, but the slow-burn tension between us was growing heavier by the second. I knew I was playing a dangerous game, and tomorrow, the whole world was going to watch it explode.