Chapter 203
Elena’s Point Of View
“What My voice came out as a half-laugh, half-sputter, so shocked I nearly dropped my phone onto the desk. “Lexy, are you serious? It’s almost eight o’clock, I’m exhausted, and I just told you about Graham’s psychotic message p>
“Exactly!” she cut in, her voice already buzzing with that dangerous, I’ve-made-up-my-mind energy. “You need this, El. You need to dance, to drink, to forget about that trash fire of an ex and his shredded papers and his entire existence for one damn night. Or at least until last call p>
I blinked, my brain still catching up, staring down at the scattered divorce filings sitting under the harsh fluorescent lights of my empty office. The silence of the building pressed in around me, broken only by the distant hum of the cleaning crew’s vacuum somewhere down the hall.
Everything smelled faintly of stale coffee and printer toner, the familiar scent of a life spent indoors, buried in paperwork. “Lex, I’m in my work clothes… I have silk trousers on and a blazer that smells like iced coffee and stress p>
“So? You look hot in a blazer. We’ll rip off the tie, unbutton the top button, boom… instant club queen p>
She didn’t even let me protest. “I’m already in the Uber. Texting you the address. No excuses.” A notification buzzed through on my screen half a second later, as if to prove her point.
“You heard me,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We are not sitting around moping about Graham’s sad little tantrum. We are going out p>
I opened my mouth to protest, “Lexy, I have nothing to wear, and I look rough… I’ve been running on four hours of sleep since Tuesday, my heels are tearing up my ankles, and I look like a ghost p>
“Don’t worry,” she interrupted, her voice already brimming with mischief. “Leave everything to me. I’ll handle it p>
“Lexy p>
“Elena,” she said, her voice dropping into that don’t-argue-with-me tone, “when was the last time you let loose? Actually lived instead of just surviving p>
I opened my mouth. Closed it. The question landed harder than she probably intended, settling somewhere beneath my ribs, a quiet ache I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time.
I looked at the half-empty cup of cold coffee sitting next to my keyboard, then at the thick stack of financial audits waiting for my signature. Everything in that office felt like evidence of a life I’d been enduring rather than living, and the realization stung more than I wanted to admit. I thought of all the nights I’d told myself tomorrow would be different, that once the custody battle ended, once the lawyers stopped calling, I’d finally breathe again. But tomorrow never seemed to come.
She was right. I hadn’t.
“See? No answer,” Lexy crowed through the speaker. “That’s what I thought. Now move. I’ll be there in ten. And if you’re not outside, I’m dragging you out by your hair p>
“Lex… my car is in the garage downstairs, and I still need to review the quarterly numbers for tomorrow morning’s board briefing p>
“Nope. No excuses. Ten minutes, Elena. Or I will come up there and dress you myself p>
I could practically see her smirk through the phone. “But p>
“But nothing,” she sang. “You need this. You need music, you need laughter, you need to forget for one damn night. And I need my best friend to stop looking like a sad puppy and start looking like the queen she is p>
I exhaled, my fingers tightening around the phone until my knuckles turned white. The weight of the day crashed over me all at once… the custody mediator’s emails, the lawyer’s clipped voicemail, and now this. “I literally just got a death threat from my ex-husband p>
“Exactly why you need tequila and a dance floor!” she shot back. “Now move p>
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, then at my reflection in the dark office window… pale, wide-eyed, still clutching my glasses like a lifeline. My hair was a mess, pulled back in a claw clip that was slipping sideways, my blazer was wrinkled at the elbows, and I definitely had dark circles under my eyes. I looked, I realized with a pang, exactly like a woman who had spent the better part of a year fighting a war she never wanted. A war that had cost her sleep, her patience, and some nights, her sense of self entirely.
Then, slow and disbelieving, I started to laugh.
Because Lexy was right. And God help me, I needed this.
True to her word, Lexy’s Uber pulled up in exactly ten minutes. I barely had time to grab my purse and lock my office door before she was storming into the building lobby, heels clicking loudly on the marble, a garment bag slung over her arm, a makeup bag in one hand, and a very suspicious-looking paper bag in the other.
She looked like a woman on a mission, her silver dress already glittering under the lobby lights, her energy so bright it felt almost unfair compared to my own exhaustion. Just looking at her, so unapologetically vibrant, made me feel the dull weight of my own fatigue even more acutely.
“Get in the bathroom,” she ordered, shoving me toward the executive restroom like a drill sergeant. “Now. We don’t have time for you to stand there looking indecisive p>
“Lexy, people are still working on the floor below us p>
“I don’t care if the mayor is working downstairs. Move p>
I didn’t argue.
Five minutes later, I was standing in front of the mirror, my blazer and trousers replaced with a scandalously short black dress Lexy had magically produced from her bag… a slinky, backless thing that clung to every curve. My hair was unpinned and teased into loose, wind-tossed waves, my glasses were stuffed into my handbag, and my lips were painted a bold, defiant red.
“Damn,” I breathed, staring at my reflection. I barely recognized the woman looking back at me. The tired corporate executive had vanished, replaced by someone sharp, striking, and completely unrestrained. For one disorienting moment, I wondered when exactly I had let that woman disappear in the first place, and whether I’d ever truly get her back once tonight ended.
Lexy grinned, unzipping the paper bag and handing me a plastic cup filled with amber liquid. “Told you. Now drink. We’re late p>
I took the cup, sniffing it suspiciously. “Is this straight reposado p>
“Obviously. Do I look like an amateur p>
I downed the shot, the burn of the liquor sharp and sweet, sliding down my throat and spreading a sudden bloom of warmth through my chest. “Okay, okay,” I laughed, my cheeks already flushed as I wiped my lips with the back of my hand. “Let’s go before I change my mind and decide I need six hours of sleep instead p>
We tumbled into the Uber, Lexy still clutching her makeup bag and the paper bag of mystery liquids. As the car pulled away from the curb and merged into the glowing city traffic, I leaned my head against the cool glass window, watching the streetlights stream past in long golden smears. For a moment, I let myself simply exist, without a single thought of Graham, lawyers, or boardrooms. I glanced at her. “Why Uber? Why didn’t you bring your car p>
Lexy rolled her eyes so hard I could hear it. “Are you seriously asking me that, Elena? By the time we’re both done at the club, we’ll be in no condition to drive. I plan on having at least four drinks, watching you lose your mind on the dance floor, and making sure nobody drives off a bridge. No more questions. Let’s go p>
“I am not going to lose my mind,” I insisted, though a giddy, uninvited smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I am going to have two drinks, pace myself, and act like a respectable adult who has a nine a.m. conference call tomorrow p>
“You are so full of shit,” Lexy laughed, reaching over to adjust the strap of my dress. “The respectable adult left the building the second you put on that red lipstick p>
The Uber ride passed in a blur of laughter and nervous energy. Lexy was already scrolling through her playlist, connecting her phone to the driver’s Bluetooth and turning the bass up until the seats vibrated. The music pumped through the car speakers as she sang along at the top of her lungs, her voice completely off-key but so full of enthusiasm that the driver couldn’t help smiling in the rearview mirror. I caught myself smiling too, a genuine, unguarded smile I hadn’t worn in what felt like months.
“You look amazing,” she said, nudging me with her elbow as the heavy synth beat bounced around the interior. “And you’re going to have the best night of your life. I promise p>
I smiled, the heavy, suffocating knot of tension in my chest easing with every mile we put between us and my office building. “I hope you’re right, Lex. I really do. Between the lawyers and Graham’s constant calls, I feel like I haven’t taken a real breath in months p>
“I’m always right,” she shot back, grinning as she smoothed a hand over her own shimmering silver dress. “Now leave Graham at the curb. He doesn’t get to live in your head tonight. Tonight belongs to us p>