The Gala Disaster

Chapter 5: The Gala Disaster

Evana should have known the night was going to become unbearable the moment she saw Eric in a tuxedo.

It was offensive, honestly.

Some people looked awkward dressed formally.

Eric looked like he had been engineered specifically to ruin women’s decision-making skills.

Which irritated her deeply.

The annual Sterling & Vance Winter Gala was the biggest corporate event of the year—half networking event, half public performance. Investors, rival firms, journalists, and clients filled the enormous ballroom in glittering designer clothes while waiters floated through the crowd carrying champagne.

Evana adjusted the silver bracelet on her wrist and tried very hard not to look across the room again.

Unfortunately, her eyes betrayed her.

Eric stood beside the central staircase speaking to two board members, one hand tucked casually into his pocket. Calm. Sharp. Effortlessly confident.

And surrounded by women.

Of course.

A tall brunette in emerald silk laughed at something he said and lightly touched his arm.

Evana immediately looked away.

Annoyed.

For absolutely no reason.

“Dangerous expression.”

Evana turned sharply.

Her coworker Serena smirked while stealing a shrimp puff from a passing tray.

“What expression?”

“The one that says you’re mentally planning a homicide.”

“I always look like this.”

“Not true,” Serena replied. “Usually you look emotionally unavailable. Tonight you look territorial.”

Evana nearly choked on her champagne.

“Territorial?”

Serena grinned wickedly. “You’ve looked at Eric Vale seventeen times in the last ten minutes.”

“I have not.”

“You literally just counted the woman touching his arm.”

Evana hated that she had no defense.

Before she could respond, movement near the ballroom entrance caught everyone’s attention.

Adrian Cole had arrived.

And apparently he had chosen violence.

Because the moment he spotted Evana, he walked straight toward her with the confidence of a man who enjoyed making bad decisions.

“Evana,” he greeted warmly. “You look incredible tonight.”

Serena immediately vanished.

Coward.

“Thank you,” Evana replied politely.

Adrian offered her a champagne glass from the tray he carried. “Peace offering.”

“For what?”

“For having your coworker threaten my existence at the mixer.”

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

“He does that sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Adrian said. “He looked ready to challenge me to a duel.”

“That’s just Eric.”

“Ah,” Adrian said thoughtfully. “So he’s always insane.”

“Professionally speaking? Yes.”

“And personally?”

Evana opened her mouth—

Then froze.

Because Eric had just looked over from across the ballroom.

Directly at them.

The brunette beside him was still talking, but his attention had shifted completely.

Locked onto Adrian.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Adrian followed her gaze and sighed dramatically. “There it is again.”

“What?”

“That look.”

Evana blinked innocently. “What look?”

“The one where he stares at me like I keyed his car.”

She almost smiled.

Instead, she lifted her champagne casually. “You’re imagining things.”

Across the ballroom, Eric’s jaw tightened.

Oh.

This was becoming fun.

Dangerous.

But fun.

“So,” Adrian continued, lowering his voice slightly, “have you decided about dinner?”

Evana hesitated.

Not because of the question.

Because she could physically feel Eric watching.

Ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

And yet her pulse still reacted.

Before she could answer, another voice interrupted smoothly:

“She’s busy Thursday.”

Evana closed her eyes briefly.

Eric had arrived.

Of course he had.

Adrian looked exasperated. “You again.”

Eric ignored him completely.

His attention settled on Evana instead.

“You disappeared during the board introductions.”

“You survived.”

“Barely.” His gaze flicked toward Adrian. “I see you found another architect to emotionally torment.”

Adrian laughed dryly. “You know, most coworkers don’t behave like divorced parents.”

“We’re not coworkers,” Evana said immediately.

Eric looked at her.

One eyebrow lifted slightly.

“No?” he asked.

She realized her mistake instantly.

Because somehow that sounded worse.

Adrian looked between them with growing fascination. “What exactly are you two?”

“Competitors,” Evana said quickly.

“Enemies,” Eric corrected at the exact same time.

Silence.

Then Adrian grinned slowly.

“Oh,” he said. “So that’s what this is.”

“There is no ‘this,’” Evana snapped.

“Right,” Adrian replied, unconvinced.

Eric picked up a champagne glass from a passing tray and handed it to Evana automatically.

She took it automatically.

Both froze.

Tiny moment.

Tiny habit.

But intimate enough to make Adrian stare openly now.

“You did not just do that unconsciously,” Adrian muttered.

Evana immediately shoved the glass back toward Eric.

“I can hold my own drink.”

“I know,” Eric replied calmly. “You also forget them everywhere.”

“I forgot one glass.”

“You left coffee in the meeting room twice this week.”

“How do you even know that?”

Eric looked genuinely confused by the question. “Because I work with you.”

The answer landed strangely between them.

Too natural.

Too familiar.

Like they’d slipped into something softer without noticing.

Evana looked away first.

Dangerous.

This was getting dangerous.

Adrian cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well. This has been psychologically exhausting.”

“Smartest thing you’ve said tonight,” Eric replied.

Adrian laughed suddenly. “You know what? I’m rooting for whatever this trainwreck is.”

“There is no trainwreck,” Evana insisted.

“Mm-hm.”

He stepped backward slowly, clearly amused now. “Anyway, my dinner offer still stands, Evana.”

Eric’s expression remained calm.

Too calm.

Which somehow made it worse.

“Good luck surviving that,” he said lightly.

Adrian grinned. “You sound worried.”

“I sound realistic.”

Adrian finally walked away laughing to himself.

The second he disappeared into the crowd, silence settled between them.

Evana sipped her champagne carefully.

Eric loosened his cuff slightly.

Neither looked at the other.

Which was stupid.

Because they were both painfully aware of each other anyway.

“You could’ve let me answer him myself,” Evana said eventually.

“You were taking too long.”

“I was thinking.”

“You were entertaining him.”

She turned toward him slowly.

And there it was again.

That strange edge in his voice.

Not anger.

Not annoyance.

Something else.

Something almost… personal.

Eric noticed her expression and immediately straightened slightly.

The moment vanished.

“You’re overdressed,” he said instead.

Evana stared at him in disbelief. “That’s your transition?”

“You started glaring at me.”

“You insulted my dress.”

“I observed your dress.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet you keep attending events where I exist.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You think highly of yourself.”

“I think you enjoy fighting with me.”

The worst part?

He sounded completely certain.

Before she could reply, the orchestra music shifted.

Slow dance.

Couples began moving toward the ballroom floor.

Evana relaxed instantly.

Eric didn’t dance.

Thank God.

Then he held out his hand.

Her brain stopped functioning for approximately three seconds.

“What,” she said flatly, “are you doing?”

“Preventing you from accepting random dinner invitations out of spite.”

“That is not a reason to dance with someone.”

“It’s the only reason I dance with anyone.”

Evana stared at his hand suspiciously.

“This feels like a trap.”

“It probably is.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

Eric’s mouth twitched slightly. “Are you always this dramatic?”

“Are you always this annoying?”

“Yes.”

“…Fair.”

The corner of his mouth lifted properly this time.

And for one terrifying second—

Evana forgot how exhausting he was.

Forgot the rivalry.

Forgot the competition.

Forgot literally everything except the fact that he was looking at her like she was the only person in the ballroom.

Which was a problem.

A very serious problem.

Because against all logic—

she placed her hand in his.

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