Chapter 3 — A Desperate Deception

Emily Carter

The conference room buzzed with the kind of energy that only came with the prospect of a corporate gala. Emily Carter sat stiffly in her chair, her manicured hands folded neatly on the glossy wooden table, her polished exterior perfectly intact. Around her, colleagues murmured with excitement, voices overlapping as they exchanged ideas about outfits and dates. The occasional burst of laughter grated against the hum of the air conditioning, which felt louder and more oppressive than usual. Amanda, of course, was seated directly across from Emily, exuding an air of smug confidence as if the gala were a personal stage set to highlight her every accomplishment.

Emily’s stomach twisted. She didn’t have time for this. The report on the Simmons account was due in less than forty-eight hours, and her presentation still needed refining. Yet here she was, trapped in a meeting about hors d'oeuvres and floral arrangements, pretending these details mattered, all while the weight of her workload loomed over her.

Mr. Thompson cleared his throat, commanding the room’s attention. "As you all know, the annual corporate gala isn’t just a party—it’s an opportunity to emphasize our company values, build client relationships, and foster a sense of community within the team." He adjusted his tie, his voice taking on a note of gravity. "This year’s theme, 'Authenticity in Connection,' speaks directly to our mission. We want to show our clients, and each other, who we truly are—not just as professionals, but as people."

Emily’s chest tightened. She didn’t like where this was heading.

"A key aspect of this," Thompson continued, gesturing expansively, "is creating an inclusive, family-oriented atmosphere. We encourage everyone to bring a significant other, whether that's a spouse, partner, or even a close friend. It’s a chance to celebrate the people who support us in our lives outside of work."

The room erupted into a cacophony of whispered excitement. For Emily, the words hit like a slap. Her pulse quickened as her colleagues leaned in to swap plans.

"Mark and I are definitely going," Karen said nearby, her face alight with enthusiasm. "He loves these events."

"My fiancé is already planning his outfit," another chimed with a laugh.

Emily’s vision narrowed slightly as the noise and chatter seemed to grow around her. A significant other. The idea of showing up alone, surrounded by pairs of polished smiles and intertwined hands, made her palms clammy. She imagined Amanda’s inevitable pointed remarks, each one a carefully veiled jab at Emily’s solitary lifestyle. The thought made her stomach churn. She shifted in her seat, willing herself to maintain her composure, even as her mind spun with contingency plans. Maybe she could skip the gala altogether, claim illness, or invent a business emergency. But no, that would only draw more attention, making her absence louder than her presence. Amanda would notice—and pounce.

“You’ll all receive formal invitations by the end of the week,” Mr. Thompson continued, his smile warm but oblivious to Emily’s inner turmoil. “And remember, this isn’t just about appearances. We want everyone to feel comfortable and celebrated.” He spoke so earnestly, as though the very concept of comfort wasn’t a foreign language to her. “Now, let’s move on to logistics.”

The meeting dragged on, but Emily barely heard a word. Her thoughts spiraled, each one more frantic than the last. The implications of the gala weighed heavily, a crushing reminder of the gap between her carefully maintained image and the reality she worked tirelessly to conceal. What if she simply told the truth? The thought flitted through her mind—the idea of showing up alone, unapologetic. But she dismissed it almost immediately, the fear of judgment far outweighing any fleeting notion of courage.

When the meeting finally adjourned, Emily rose from her seat, smoothing her pencil skirt with trembling hands. She reached for her notebook, her movements deliberate, almost robotic. But Amanda’s voice sliced through the noise like a scalpel.

"Emily,” she said, her smile as sharp as the glint in her eye, “you’ll be bringing someone, right?"

Emily froze, her breath snagging in her throat. Around her, colleagues paused mid-motion, their interest piqued. The air felt heavy, the faint hum of the air conditioning suddenly deafening. Amanda’s tone was as smooth as glass, but the intent behind it was clear—she wasn’t just asking. She was probing, her words laced with subtle condescension.

"I had no idea you were seeing someone," Amanda added, her head tilting ever so slightly. "You’re so private about these things."

Emily’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She opened her mouth, grasping for a response, but her mind was a blank slate. She could feel every eye on her, waiting. Judging. Her cheeks flushed as she fought to suppress the trembling in her hands. Finally, the words tumbled out, unbidden and unstoppable.

"Of course," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. "My boyfriend and I wouldn’t miss it."

The room fell silent, save for the distant whir of air vents. Amanda’s eyebrows arched slightly, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. "Oh, how lovely," she said, her tone syrupy-sweet. "What’s his name?"

Emily’s stomach bottomed out. Her vision tunneled briefly as her brain scrambled for an answer. The silence stretched, unbearable, as though the air itself had thickened. Finally, a single name slipped past her lips.

"Charlie."

Amanda’s eyes sparkled with interest. "Charlie," she repeated slowly, as if savoring the sound. "How exciting. I can’t wait to meet him."

Emily nodded stiffly, her forced smile threatening to crack. She turned toward the door, her pulse roaring in her ears as she walked briskly away, heels clicking against the polished floor. By the time she reached her desk, her hands were trembling so violently she had to clutch the edge of the table to steady herself.

What had she just done?

---

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Emily threw herself into work, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she buried herself in emails, spreadsheets, and deadlines. But no matter how hard she tried, the weight of her impulsive lie lingered, pressing down on her like a physical force. Amanda’s lingering glances from across the office did little to help. Each time Emily caught sight of her, a fresh wave of unease churned in her stomach.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, Emily’s nerves were raw. She sat frozen at her desk, staring blankly at her monitor, before grabbing her phone and scrolling through her contacts. Sophie’s name hovered at the top of the list, her familiar photo offering a momentary sense of comfort. Emily’s thumb hovered over the call button, but she hesitated. Sophie’s advice would be honest—too honest. She’d tell Emily to face the truth, to embrace her imperfections. As much as Emily loved her best friend, she wasn’t ready for that yet.

Her gaze drifted across the room, landing on a familiar figure. Charlie Bennett. The name she hadn’t realized was on the tip of her tongue until it was too late. He sat at his desk, his posture relaxed, his movements unhurried as he packed up for the day. Emily’s pulse quickened. He was far from an ideal choice—laid-back, unpredictable, and too observant for comfort. But he was charming, single, and, most importantly, someone who wouldn’t pry too deeply. Or so she hoped.

Taking a shaky breath, Emily rose to her feet. She clutched her blazer tightly, rehearsing the conversation in her mind as she walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. She was still trying to piece together an opening line when Charlie slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the elevator.

“Charlie,” she called, her voice sharper than intended.

He turned, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. "Carter," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Emily hesitated, her carefully composed exterior threatening to crumble under his curious gaze. "Do you have a minute to talk? Privately?"

Charlie’s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Sure. What’s up?"

She led him to a quieter corner near the break room, stealing one last glance to ensure no one was within earshot. Taking a deep breath, Emily squared her shoulders, hoping to project the calm professionalism she was known for. But the words refused to come, her carefully rehearsed speech dissolving into chaos.

"I need your help," she blurted finally, the words tumbling out faster than she could stop them. "With something... unusual."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, his amusement deepening. "Unusual, huh? This should be good."

"You know the gala next month?" Emily continued, ignoring his teasing. "Mr. Thompson is encouraging everyone to bring a significant other."

"Yeah, I heard," Charlie said casually. "Not really my scene, though."

“Well," Emily said, her voice faltering, "I... may have told everyone I’m bringing my boyfriend."

Charlie blinked, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to incredulous amusement. "Your boyfriend," he repeated slowly. "And this involves me because...?"

"Because I don’t actually have one," Emily admitted, her cheeks flushing pink. "And I need someone to pretend to be him. Just for the gala."

For a long moment, Charlie said nothing. He studied her closely, his piercing blue eyes searching hers as if trying to gauge whether she was serious. Finally, he let out a low whistle, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wow," he said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Didn’t see that coming."

Emily’s frustration bubbled to the surface. "Charlie, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t out of options. Amanda was practically salivating at the thought of embarrassing me. I panicked."

Charlie considered her for another moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, to her surprise, he shrugged. "Alright. I’ll do it."

"You will?" Emily’s voice came out more incredulous than intended.

"Sure," he replied, the gleam of mischief in his eyes returning. "This sounds like the most entertaining thing I’ve been asked to do in months."

Relief flooded through Emily, though it was tinged with apprehension. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I’ll... figure out the details and let you know.”

"Looking forward to it," Charlie said, his grin widening. "This should be fun."

As he walked away, Emily exhaled deeply, her shoulders sagging as a thousand new worries took root. Fun, he’d said. She wasn’t sure she’d survive it.