Whoa. Really?” I know I look like a complete nerd, but I can’t keep my mouth from falling open as I look up at the house we’ve arrived at.

It’s like something out of a fairytale. Practically a chateau, sitting on top of a small hill with a set of wide stone stairs leading up to the door. And we just pulled down a long, winding drive lined with towering trees on both sides, and the twinkling lights in the branches just about stopped my heart. It’s all so beautiful.

“Yes, really,” Ace chuckles. “It’s nothing much.”

I manage to pry my eyes from the palace in front of me long enough to shoot him a withering look. “You can’t be serious. Are you seeing this? Do you need your eyes checked?”

That would explain why you’re acting so crazy about me. What’s my problem? Why can’t I just deal with the fact that he seems to like me? The very obvious bulge in his pants all throughout our ride certainly proved he wants me. That’s a pretty big deal.

But it’s more than that.

We talked during the ride, too, and we laughed a lot together. We have a similar sense of humor, and thank God for the opportunity to spend time with a man who has half a brain. Dumbing myself down was beginning to become a bit of a chore.  

He winces slightly before shrugging. “You’re right. I guess it seems ridiculous, trying to pretend the place isn’t impressive. I just want you to know that this sort of thing isn’t all that matters to me. I should warn you I don’t have this kind of money.”

“And I should warn you I don’t expect you to. You’re just friends with people who do,” I say as he takes my arm.

“Yes, well, it takes all kinds of people to make a world,” he replies with a wink before walking with me up the steps. It looks like every light in the house is on. The whole place fairly glows.

“Who is the owner of this mansion?”

“My friend Justin. We’ve known each other since we were kids. He’s an app developer, a total genius. And yes, he enjoys living the high life.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I point out. “I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Don’t be. I was there when Justin pissed his pants in kindergarten. He’s just a person, like you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It’s easy for him to say. This is his world, not mine.

But he wants me here with him. He wouldn’t have asked me to a party like this if he didn’t think I’d fit in. He thinks I belong here.

Time for me to start thinking I belong anywhere he is.

A man in a tuxedo opens the door for us, and takes our coats.

“Wow,” I whisper, my eyes darting back and forth. I don’t know what to look at first: the home or the gorgeous people in it. It’s one thing that this place probably cost several million dollars. It’s another that it’s decked out in full force for the holidays and filled with men and women who remind me a lot of Ace.

Perfect.

“Hey, you made it!” A young man bounds over to us wearing an ear-to-ear smile. He’s got sandy blond hair and shiny white teeth, but his jovial personality immediately puts me at ease.

“Justin, this is Dawn,” Ace says as he slides an arm around my waist.

“I’m glad to meet you.” He gives my hand a firm shake, which I return.

“Thank you for having me here,” I smile. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Aw, thank you.” A waiter passes, carrying a silver tray on which are balanced a handful of champagne flutes. They sparkle in the lights from the Christmas tree and the candles which flicker all around the room.

Justin grabs two glasses and passes them to Ace and me. “I have a few people I need to chat up, but I want to catch up with the two of you later.” He leans in slightly toward Ace. “Marissa’s here, by the way.”

Ace stiffens and the arm around my waist goes rigid. “What’s she doing here?”

“I couldn’t avoid asking her,” Justin mutters. “She called me up the other day and made a big deal of not wanting to miss my New Year’s party. What was I supposed to say?”

“I can think of a few things,” Ace say dryly.

“I’m sorry. You can kick my ass later.” Justin hurries off, all smiles for another pair of guests. There must be a hundred people milling around and we have yet to leave the living room, which looks out onto a view of the city stretched out below us. People are mingling out on the balcony, too, and there’s music coming from the next room.

“Who’s Marissa?” I can’t help asking, since the frown lines in Ace’s forehead have yet to disappear.

“An ex.” He takes a sip of his champagne, still frowning.

My heart drops. “Do you still have a thing for her?”

“What? No. She’s a psychopath.”

“Ouch. You know, if you don’t want to stay, it’s okay. I have a rather recent ex myself, and I wouldn’t want to be at a party with him.”

He looks troubled, his brows drawn together as he continues to frown. It makes me remember the way my grandmother used to tease me when I was little and throwing a temper tantrum. Be careful. Your face might freeze that way.

He looks down at me again, and this time he’s smiling again. “No, it’s not as bad as that. I just don’t feel like being in the same room as her. But I’m here with you, and seeing you have a good time tonight means more to me than avoiding her.”

“Really?”

“Really, really. And I’ll tell you something else.” He leans down, his breath hot on my ear. “You’re easily the most beautiful woman here. And the sexiest.”

“Stop teasing,” I whisper, even as I tingle all over.

“Definitely the sexiest. Fuck it’s taking all my self-control to keep from bending you over the nearest flat surface and fucking you until you scream for mercy.”

My knees go weak and watery to the point where I’m glad his arm is still around my waist, holding me up. Otherwise, there would be a woman in a satin dress slumped over on the floor, and it is way too early in the evening for such a thing to happen.

We walk arm-in-arm around the room before moving into the next area, where the party is really kicking off. There’s a band playing in one corner and at least thirty people dancing their hearts out to an old-timey swing song. Nobody out there is anywhere close to professional, but they’re all having a blast. Maybe they really are just normal people, like me, giggling and snorting over how ungraceful their dancing is.

“Wanna give it a try?” Ace asks over the music.

My eyes fly open at the thought. “Erm, maybe not just yet. This dress wasn’t made for swinging. Something a little slower?”

“I’m going to take you up on that,” he warns.

My body flushes all over at the gleam in his eyes. He looks at me like I’m a treasure, something to cherish. With all these beautiful, fit, glowing women in the room, I’m the one he’s looking at this way. It’s like a dream. I should pinch myself.

Everybody knows who Ace is, and he knows them. Which means lots of conversations. Which means I need to stay on my toes, remember names, and generally interact with people so I don’t come off as aloof or worse stuck up. And here’s the thing which surprises me more than anything else: the girls are nice. Sweet, real, complaining that their feet hurt and wondering why they bothered wearing such high heels. We commiserate over that, and the way men never have to suffer that way.

I don’t know why, but I assumed they would all be mean and catty. I guess that’s because Gena is the only truly nice girl I’ve ever known who also happens to be pretty and fit. She’s the only good one out of a long line of bullies, mean girls and catty bitches I’ve known throughout my life.

I guess I knew the wrong people. The wrong women and the definitely the wrong men.

I love watching Ace work the room. He doesn’t need to announce his presence. Instead, he stands still and everybody comes to him. He’s like a tractor beam, pulling people in through the force of his charisma.

After an hour or so of this, and two glasses of champagne, I need to visit the powder room. I whisper this to one of the girls we’ve been chatting with, a perky redhead named Amelia.

“Justin always dedicates one of the suites to our needs,” she chuckles, pointing up the stairs. “It’s the first door on your right. You’ll probably find a handful of girls up there, resting their feet and touching up their makeup. Just go right in, the bathroom is attached.”

Walking up the stairs, my hand resting lightly on the polished wood of the bannister, makes me feel like a princess in a Disney movie. This is me, this is my life right now, I’m in the middle of all these beautiful people in this beautiful house and they’re treating me like one of them.

Just like Amelia promised, the first bedroom on the right has been devoted to the needs of the female guests. Justin is a hell of a host to think this up. There are baskets full of toiletries, feminine hygiene products, hairspray, makeup and much more I don’t have the chance to explore because I really have to pee. The bathroom is empty, with only a trio of girls seated around the bedroom with their feet up. All of them are laughing, and drinking, and having fun. I find myself smiling as I close the door between us.

It’s not until I’m finished washing my hands in the marble sink that I hear a snide voice. The first snide voice of the evening.

“I don’t know who she thinks she is, the fat cow. What’s with the dress? Tits and ass hanging out all over the place. You’d think she’d want to cover herself up—that is, if there’s enough fabric in the whole world to manage it.”

My heart freezes first. Followed by the rest of me. There’s only one person she could be talking about, whoever she is. I’m the only woman at the party who wears anything over a size four.

“Knock it off, Marissa. She’s right in the bathroom,” one of them hisses.

“I know. I followed her lard ass up here. What a joke.” So this is Marissa. What a charmer. I can see why she’s Ace’s ex, rather than his current squeeze.

“Stop it,” another voice implores. “You’re being cruel.”

“No, she’s being a bitch,” somebody else joins in.

“I don’t care what you all think. We know it’s true, don’t we? I guess Ace felt charitable or something, wanting to take a cow out to see how the other half lives.”

I stare at the marble wall and will myself not to cry. I won’t give her the satisfaction. I won’t let her see what she’s doing to me.

“I mean, there’s curvy and there’s fat,” Marissa continues, and it’s obvious she’s deliberately raising her voice to be heard. “Beyonce is curvy. This girl is just fat.”

“She’s really pretty,” one of the girls replies. “And I talked to her. She’s nice.”

“Fat girls always have to be nice. They need something to make up for the way they look.”

“That’s enough, Marissa. Just stop it now. You’re making a fool of yourself,” one of them scolds. “You know you’re just jealous because she’s here with Ace and you’re not. We see right through you, so just drop it.”

“I’m only trying to do the girl a favor,” Marissa defends herself. Her voice has become louder, so I know she’s standing by the door. Waiting for me to come out.

There is a mirror at the back of the toilet. I turn around and take a look at myself in it, stepping back to get a full look. I thought this dress looked good on me, but maybe she’s right. Maybe James was right, too. My hips are a little too wide. It’s a little short, it shows off too much of my thighs. My legs aren’t sleek like the other girls’. My arms are too thick to be exposed the way they are.

But then, Ace likes it. He just about devoured me at first glance. When I remember that, and the way he worshipped my body last night, I remember how sexy I felt when I first got dressed. How beautiful I’ve felt all evening. Right up until this bitch made her presence known.

I want to get out of here. Now. But first, I have to show her she can’t hurt me. I won’t give her the satisfaction of watching me crumble or thinking she made me lock myself in the bathroom to avoid her.

So, I turn the handle and open the door with my head held high.

Here she is. Ace’s ex-girlfriend. Tall, willowy, with light blonde hair and baby-blue eyes. She could model for Victoria’s Secret. Maybe she does. I look her in the eye.

“Whoever stuck up for me out here is right,” I tell her in a firm voice which I won’t allow to shake. I absolutely won’t allow it. “Ace is here with me. Not you. So I must be doing something right.”

“Yessss,” I hear from one of the girls sitting around chatting, and somebody snaps her fingers. I have a cheering section. That helps, too.

“Exactly what favor do you think you’re doing for me by being so nasty?” I ask instead of clawing her eyes out.

She folds her slim arms, looking me up and down. “Face it, honey. You might be fun for a few days, maybe even a couple of weeks, but the owner of a successful, high-priced gym with a wealthy clientele can’t be seen around town with a fat girlfriend. It makes no sense. No way he’s going to want to be with you in the long-term. It’s better that you know this now, rather than setting yourself up to be heartbroken.”

And the thing is, none of the other girls speaks up for me when she makes this statement. Because she’s right, and we all know it. Ace would never want me to be his permanent girlfriend. Everyone understood that instinctively. He’s slumming and they’re happy to tolerate me while he’s infatuated by the unsuitable girl.

Damn it. I told Gena, didn’t I? I told her I didn’t want this to be anything more than fun because it’ll never work out in the end. I told her I didn’t want to get attached because it won’t go anywhere.

And yet, here I am with a sinking heart, wearing a dress that I now feel ridiculous in.

Even so, I keep my head held high. It’s the least I can do. “I never said I wanted to be his girlfriend, but I think he’s the one who gets to decide what makes him happy.”

Then I sail forward. I can’t bear to look at any of them when I leave the room, not even the girls who stuck up for me. It’s all too humiliating. I should’ve known I’d never really fit in. I’m like the mascot, the one they have to stick up for and be nice to. For Ace’s sake.

I don’t feel like a princess anymore as I hurry down the stairs as quickly as my shoes will allow. I need to go. I need to get home, to tear this dress off and never look at it again. What’s wrong with me? How could I have let myself get hurt like this?