Inside, the gallery radiated calm, its white walls bathed in warm sunlight streaming through tall windows.
The air held a faint aroma of clean wood mingled with old paint. Soft instruntal music played in the background as a few visitors moved deliberately through the space, treating the art with the reverence it deserved.
Yet, beneath the serene atmosphere, Ezra’s thoughts churned violently, particularly after that incident.
How could he have kissed her? What had driven him to that point?
Evie was indeed a stunning woman, especially today, as she celebrated her birthday with an extra flourish. But they were tangled in circumstances that logically should have kept them apart. Their contract forbade emotional entanglents, yet he had let his guard down and crossed that line. Kissing was permissible, ant for show and display, but not in the intimate way he had done it. No one had been watching; it was all him—and he had lost control. He silently reprimanded himself. Hadn’t he established himself as Ezra Thorne, a man emotionally detached? He had always been indifferent to relationships, leading to past failures, which had branded him emotionally unavailable. Yet, here he was, grappling with feelings he couldn’t quite comprehend.
Fortunately, they hadn’t talked about the kiss, and Ezra found so relief in Evie’s silence.
She seed equally taken aback by the turn of events, understanding instinctively that they had ventured into dangerous territory, driven solely by his impulsive decision.
It was all his fault.
He did it first.
He cursed himself inwardly.
He watched Evie’s small fra as she moved gracefully ahead of him, her heels echoing softly against the marble floor while she examined the art.
As she paused in front of a bold, abstract canvas that appeared like chaos incarnate, she mused, "I don’t think I get it."
Ezra stepped up beside her, keen to share his perspective. "It’s about interpretation. Perhaps it mirrors your current state of mind—confused, dramatic... overflowing with emotion."
She turned to him, a teasing smile on her lips. "Wow. Thanks for that, Professor Ezra."
"Don’t ntion it," he muttered, a smirk creeping across his face as she rolled her eyes and walked ahead, clearly enjoying the banter.
They continued at a leisurely pace, quietly discussing each piece, neither rushing nor lingering too long. Their dialogue may not have delved deep, but it was comfortable—natural. No pretenses, no tension—just two individuals allowing the art to speak for itself.
Before long, Evie halted in front of a striking abstract painting filled with swirls of red, black, and gold. Ezra joined her, hands in his pockets, surveying the work.
"What do you think it ans?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
He glanced at the canvas. "Rage, maybe sprinkled with confusion."
"Very profound." Evie thought.
They moved on, pausing at sculptures, minimalist paintings, and an intricate ink sketch of a Parisian street.
"I like this one," Evie declared, standing before a canvas depicting a woman gazing out a window as rain fell softly.
Ezra responded, "Too sad for my taste."
"Sotis, sad can be beautiful." She comnted.
Evie was transfixed by the painting. She recognized its allure even if owning sothing like it would be a financial stretch. Turning to Ezra, she considered, "Think you’d ever buy one?"
Ezra’s response was dry, yet assertive. "Only if it matched my walls."
Unable to contain her laughter, Evie elegantly covered her mouth. A comfortable silence settled between them as they lingered before the art. Ezra observed her, noting the expression in her eyes, before her eyebrows furrowed as she heard soft clicks, she glanced to see soone taking their pictures.
Curious and slightly wary, she asked, "Did he just take our photo?"
"They always do," Ezra replied, his tone unbothered.
Evie blinked. "Why?"
His gaze locked onto hers with a confident smirk. "Because I make good art look better."
She knew. She knew he was about to say sothing unexpected, yet she wasn’t ready to hear this. "That’s cockiness," she nudged him, and he chuckled—a deep, rich, velvety laugh that sparked sothing within her she tried to suppress. "But seriously, why do they do that?" Evie asked.
Ezra’s deanor shifted to serious. He followed the photographer’s path with a brief glance before locking eyes with her. "The gallery docunts high-profile guests for press releases, sponsorship reports, and event coverage. I fund so of their exhibitions... so, technically, I’m good PR."
Evie raised an eyebrow. "And ?"
His gaze lingered on her a mont longer. "You’re the reason the photo’s worth taking."
Evie held his gaze for a beat longer before dismissing it with laughter. "You’re getting unserious," she said, rolling her eyes playfully. "Should we go now?"
"Sure," Ezra agreed.
As they turned to leave, he suddenly paused.
"What’s wrong?" Evie asked, sensing a shift. He shook his head but then glanced back at the painting she had admired, offering a nod to the gallery attendant. "Have that delivered."
Evie blinked. "Wait, are you buying that?"
He shrugged, nonchalantly. "It matched sothing."
Stunned, she processed this but held back any further questions. As they stepped back onto the bustling street, a soft, confused smile crept across her lips.
"Hope you aren’t too tired?" Ezra asked. "We’ve got other things to do," he quipped, locking gaze with her.
Evie smiled. "I’m not tired."
Her heart raced with curiosity about his next surprise. After an elegant breakfast and an art gallery visit, her birthday was shaping up to be dauntingly exciting. She followed him, regardless, wondering what else he had in store for her...
As they approached it, Evie asked, "The boutique?"
Ezra nodded confidently. "I thought I’d switch things up since you didn’t seem to enjoy the gallery much. Won love shopping, don’t they?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. Evie’s lips widened into a smile.
"Glad you know a thing or two about us," she chuckled, a smirk dancing across his lips as they neared their destination. "But I liked the art gallery" she added.
"Is that so?" He asked, his voice teasing.
The boutique stood tucked in a quiet corner near the Seine. Its elegant windows adorned with soft cream drapes and golden lettering read *Élise Couture*. The bell above the door chid gently as Ezra held it open for her to enter first.
Inside, the luxurious scent of fresh roses mingled with expensive perfu. Elegant dresses sparkled under soft lighting, and a beaming attendant approached them imdiately, greeting them in lilting French before switching to English.
"Mr. Thorne," she said warmly, clearly recognizing him. "We’ve prepared the private suite per your request."
Ezra nodded before surprising Evie by wrapping his arms around her. "Let’s go," he stated, leading her promptly away.
Evie’s cheeks flushed as she followed the attendant into a spacious dressing room filled with mirrors and velvet couches. She tried on dress after dress while Ezra waited outside. The curtain rustled, and she finally erged in a deep burgundy gown that fit her perfectly.
Ezra had been montarily distracted, but as soon as he turned to look, his gaze swept across her figure with undeniable appreciation.
"What do you think?" Evie asked.
She wouldn’t want to know what he thought at the mont.
She would probably be too stunned and would combust. He had done enough kissing her.. infact, what was wrong with him? He reprimanded himself again.
"It’s perfect," Ezra declared.
"I thought so too," Evie said, glancing at her reflection with satisfaction.
"Did any others catch your eye?" Ezra inquired. Evie paused, then looked back at him as he added, "Get everything you want."
She paused again as if to hear him correctly, but there was no mistaking it. Ezra wasn’t joking. Before she knew it, she found herself buying more luxury items than she had ever imagined.
As they wandered through another boutique, warmly lit and filled with elegant displays of perfus, costics, and accessories, Evie’s gaze landed on a glass shelf showcasing high-end makeup. Lipsticks that resembled jewels, glistening palettes, and artistic perfu bottles caught her eye.
She picked up a sleek black lipstick, weighing it in her hand as she read the price tag. "This is... ridiculous," she murmured.
"Do you want it?" Ezra asked from behind her, hands casually tucked in his pockets, his gaze resting lazily on her.
"Yes, but it’s uhmm..." Evie tried to explain.
Ezra interrupted smoothly, "Take everything you want"
Evie turned to him, an eyebrow raised. "You say that like it’s candy."
He shrugged with nonchalance. "It is, in a way. Just choose what you want, Evie. No holding back."
She hesitated for a mont, contemplating. Then she smiled, realizing the rarity of this opportunity. Why hold back? If this chance was available, she should seize it.
She picked the lipstick, a rose-gold perfu bottle, and a limited-edition shadow palette, tossing in a mascara on a whim.
At the last minute, she paused by the scarves, her fingers brushing over the soft silk. One, dark navy with embroidered silver threads, imdiately brought Ezra to mind.
Without hesitation, she held it up to his chest. "This would look stunning on you."
Ezra tilted his head, amusent flickering in his eyes. "You’re shopping for now?"
She answered, "Apparently, I am."
And he accepted it.
As Ezra slid his card back into his wallet, Evie couldn’t help but watch him. She had intended to pay for the scarf and a couple of other items, yet he wouldn’t allow it. "You think I’d let you pay after dressing up?" she had asked.
He simply t her gaze and replied, "You chose it. I’ll handle it."
No matter how hard she tried to change his mind, he stood firm on his decision to pay for everything. She questioned herself for a fleeting mont—was she overstepping?
Or was she overthinking?
Maybe she should just relish the mont while it lasted. In four short months, her life would revert to the ordinary, without a billionaire by her side to take her shopping or plan her birthday.
Ezra brought her out of her reverie. "Do you want to grab sothing to eat?" He asked, sensing that she was tired and hungry after their whirlwind day.
Evie nodded, and they headed to the restaurant again, indulging in everything extravagant on the nu.
***
The streets of Paris glimred beneath the moonlight, the city alive yet serene, bathed in gold and deep navy tones. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower sparkled, almost like it was winking at them.
Evie and Ezra walked side by side, the silence between them comfortable, not awkward. The buzz from earlier had settled, leaving only the rhythmic click of Evie’s heels echoing against the backdrop of passing cars.
They turned down a quieter street leading to a scenic overlook above the Seine, a well-known yet intimate spot at night. The railing was warm from the day’s sun, and the view of the city was breathtaking.
Ezra paused, allowing her to step ahead. "You’ve been quiet," he remarked.
"I’m just... letting it all sink in," she replied, her voice softer than usual. "It’s been perfect."
He studied her, noting how the wind tousled her hair and the way her cheeks was pink from the wine. "You’re not accustod to perfect?"
"I’m not used to *you*," she shot back, a teasing lilt in her voice.
Ezra smirked. "You’ll grow accustod to ."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"
He shrugged casually, and she fought back a smile as she turned away. Her mind raced with thoughts.
Her birthday was coming to an end, and tomorrow, they’d likely revert to their routine of being a fake couple. But would it really be back to normal? After everything that had unfolded today? Because if Ezra wasn’t affected, she certainly was. Her heart was shifting, and she felt rooted in confusion. It felt undeniably real. Was she losing her mind? Did he feel it too? Was that his intention when he kissed her while they danced? She stole a glance at him... She had tried not to overthink the kiss, but it had lingered in her mind; she hadn’t pulled away when she probably should have. There shouldn’t be romantic feelings lingering between them, yet sothing was undeniably shifting.
"What is it?" He inquired, eting her lingering gaze.
She shook her head with a smile.
But inwardly, she wondered... What if they had t under different circumstances?
Would things have unfolded differently?
Would she have liked Ezra—and would he have liked her back?
Reviews
All reviews (0)