The Shape of Us

(Paloma’s POV)

The air in the luscious, dimly lit grand ballroom pressed around me, heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and the clinking of crystal glasses.

I’ve always hated this kind of event, so me being here with an intricate hairdo and a black satin dress felt far too glamorous. Its delicate straps and sweetheart neckline exposed more skin than I usually preferred, but Layla had it prepared for me before I could even manage to whine about it.

Now I’m here, at a gala hosted by Vance Holdings, all the while the daring slit climbed high along one thigh and made me feel uncomfortable whenever I moved.

Yet the simplicity of the design saved it from feeling ostentatious. It was elegant rather than flashy, the kind of dress that didn’t demand attention but somehow captured it anyway.

I was hoping it wouldn’t be the bad kind of attention, though. I’m simply filling in for Layla.

An old couple who had been standing right in front of a canvas depicting an open field moved away, and I was finally able to take in the whole picture. I’d seen it through them, and it had looked like just a field, but now that they’d moved, I could see the woman.

A woman in a pale pink dress sat in a vast field of sun-bleached grass, her body turned toward a distant farmhouse. The landscape stretched endlessly between them, beautiful and unforgiving in equal measure.

Christina’s World.

I knew the painting immediately.

I stepped closer.

Most people saw loneliness when they looked at the painting.

I never had.

What captivated me wasn’t the distance. It was the direction.

Christina wasn’t looking away from the house.

She was looking toward it.

Toward something she wanted.

Toward home.

I felt a shiver, not from cold, but from the palpable undercurrent of unspoken tensions and secrets that swirled among the city’s elite.

My body tensed. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but I could tell from the whispers slithering through the crowd that they were about the man everyone feared and admired in equal measure. He was a phantom of destruction, leaving shattered lives in his wake, yet always perfectly poised, always perfectly charming.

I could sense him moving toward me, people probably making way for him wherever he wanted to go.

“Lost in thought, I see?” His voice was a low, melodic purr, wrapping around me like velvet. He stopped directly behind me, his presence dominating the space. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his gaze. It was intense, scanning me with unnerving precision, as if he were already dissecting the very essence of my being.

“A dangerous thing, wandering alone in such a den of vipers. Tell me,” I could hear him leaning in slightly from the rustle of his clothes, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper that promised both danger and delight, “do you prefer to watch the game, or do you desire to play?”

I spun in place, looking at him now. I had to tilt my head slightly to meet those cryptic green eyes, which were reflecting a promise of mischief.

My brows knit together, but a polite smile settled on my lips.

“Sorry, I can’t help you,” I said, turning away and stepping out of his way.

Then I heard it—a low chuckle, rich and dark as aged bourbon. He didn’t reach for me, but his movement was a form of possession itself—a fluid glide that effortlessly cut off my intended path. Suddenly, he was before me again, but his smile had lost its polite veneer, replaced by something sharper, something genuinely amused.

“Help me?” he repeated, tilting his head to the side. His eyes seemed to deepen, catching the low light.

“Oh, I think you misunderstand. I wasn’t asking for help.” He took a half-step closer, the space between us shrinking, charged with a sudden intensity.

“I was making an observation. That among all these predictable, chattering magpies, there’s one person who doesn’t seem to belong.”

I noticed the moment his gaze dropped to my mouth for a fraction of a second before lifting back to my eyes.

“And that, I find, is exceptionally interesting.”

I was frozen for half of it. It happened all in a flash.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr...,” I said, trying to seem dismissive, but knowing that I was talking way too much.

His smile widened, a subtle shift that felt less like humor and more like the discovery of a new, intriguing piece of a puzzle. Now I could see that the amusement in his forest-green eyes was indeed genuine, as if sparked by my resistance.

“Flattery is for those seeking favor,” he countered, his voice a low, confidential murmur that seemed to exist in a private space between us, separate from the ballroom’s drone. “I was stating an objective fact. You are an anomaly here.”

“I’m just filling in for a friend. Just ignore me, and soon enough you’ll forget you ever saw me in the first place,” I said in a bored tone.

The tall, blond, handsome man in front of me let out a soft, delighted hum, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his crystal glass. Unfortunately, he didn’t look like a man prepared to ignore anyone, not even me.

“Forget you?” he asked, his voice dripping with smooth amusement. “No, I don’t think I will. In fact, I am quite certain of it. You see, Paloma, I have an excellent memory for things that refuse to blend into the background.”

I flinched when I heard my name, but it was the most reaction he would ever get from me.

I watched as he stepped slightly to the side, giving me a small amount of breathing room, though his intense gaze remained locked on me, as if analyzing every micro-expression.

“Come. Let us escape the suffocating heat of these chattering magpies. A breath of fresh air is exactly what you need to wash away the irritation of being here.”

He turned gracefully, offering his arm with an elegant, practiced grace that was both an invitation and a subtle command, confidently assuming I would follow him into the cooler night air.

“No, thank you,” I replied and left without missing a beat, making good use of the room between us. I didn’t turn to look at him as my eyes found a familiar face—one of my former tutoring student’s mothers, a wealthy woman who had once been very kind to me for a few months. It had been a while since I’d spoken to her, but she was the perfect distraction and escape from Maximilian Vance’s attention.

I chatted with her without risking a glance in his direction, but I could still feel him watching me. I’d already done enough by simply showing up to this ridiculous, fancy event. I’d mingled with these narcissistic donors on behalf of the school, on Layla’s behalf. Soon enough, I found an opening and made an excuse. A few minutes later, I was in an Uber, heading to my favorite club in the city.

I’d made three huge mistakes tonight.

First, I’d answered Layla’s impromptu call.

Second, I’d Googled Maximilian Vance.

Third, I’d pretended not to know who he was.

A few hours earlier…

Staring at my dusty ceiling fan, all I could think was how incredibly bored I was tonight. I should have taken Leo’s offer for tacos and movies, but instead I’d said that I had something to do, when the reality was that I actually didn’t.

I take my phone and open the Instagram app. I’ve been idling through it for the last hour, watching a lot of reels and stories from people I follow. Layla has posted a new story. I tap on it and see a photo of a thermometer showing 100.4°F and a caption saying, “Poor baby Nic.”

I sit up straighter immediately. Exactly five minutes later, my phone rings. I know it’s Layla before I even pick up.

“Hi, Poms,” she says through the speaker, her voice sounding tired.

“Hey, Lay, what’s up?” I say, my tone as nonchalant as I can manage. Because I know what she needs from me.

She sighs.

“Nicole is sick,” she exhales. Then I hear her footsteps and Nicole’s muffled voice in the background, calling for her.

“Just a second, darling,” she responds. “Malcom, can you check on her while I take this?” she says to her husband, and I huff. She had to actually ask the moron. He couldn’t take the hint, as always.

“Sorry, Poms,” I hear her more clearly now as she speaks directly to me. “Tonight is the Recognition Gala from Vance Holdings, the one where they honor donors, and we, as a sponsored academy, have to attend.” Her sigh is even more audible now. “I can’t trust poor Nicole to Malcom, you know how it is, right?” she asks.

“This is awful. You should divorce him.”

I answer, and I know she’s frowning without even seeing her face. I keep bringing it up because I’m mad that she settled for so little when she deserves so much more.

“Don’t start, Lomita,” she warns me. “Divorce isn’t the solution to everything. Marriage is about a lot more than that.”

“I agree,” I say as I roll my eyes, grateful she can’t see it. “Do you want me to come over and watch Nicole for you?” I ask, ignoring our disagreement with fake agreement.

“Don’t you dare,” she hisses, because she knows I just rolled my eyes at her. That’s how close we are; we can practically tell each other’s facial expressions through a phone call. “No. Actually, yes, come over.”

“Sounding suspicious, aren’t we?”

“Poms, just come over. Our school needs to be present at this gala.”

“Correction: you need to be there. I can see what you’re doing here. I’m not really in the mood to be thrown to the lions tonight,” I say, standing and walking to the window.

“C’mon, you know I’d do it for you if you ever needed it.” She says, and I know she’s pouting.

“You’re too old for that, Lay,” I jab, and she chuckles. “I heard that the creepy billionaire CEO will attend...” I trail off, hoping she’ll pick it up.

“Yes, Maximilian Vance will be in attendance. He isn’t... creepy.” Then she laughs, as if unable to trust her own words. “Okay, he is a little. But he’s always charming and poised. He won’t even exchange a word with you, though, so don’t worry.”

I feel myself deflating unconsciously.

“Why would he, anyway? I’m a nobody. Our school is just a number to them. I bet he doesn’t even know the names of the facilities they’re funding,” I say snarkily, but my voice lacks heat.

“So you’re coming, right?” she chimes happily. “Just shower. I have everything you need here.”

Then she hangs up on me.

A totally Layla move.

Then I open the browser.