Beautiful.

Alden’s eyes jittered at the lovely sight before him. Iris carefully maneuvered around Curtis's sedan, waved to her friend in thanks, and fluffed the rosy swaths of fabric that draped from her slender body. The design sketches hadn’t done the dress justice one bit, and Alden remained speechless at the entrance of the venue.

“I'm not late, am I?” Iris asked as she ascended the small staircase with flounces and tresses following behind like plumes of wafting pink smoke. “We got lost on the highway… Couldn’t find the right exit…”

Iris was speaking, Alden knew that she was, but he couldn’t concentrate at all. She was explaining something about the dress being too big, and having to take it in at a few spots. There was a bit about darts and zippers, or something to that effect, but Alden was still mesmerized and unable to follow.

“What do you think?” Iris asked as she twirled gently to show off her improvements. “Is this okay?”

“I love it,” Alden blurted out before correcting himself and extending an arm for Iris to take. “Th-the dress. Your dress is lovely. Nicely done.”

Iris smiled warmly up at Alden, grateful for his praise and approval. The pair made their way to the wedding hall for the ceremony, surrounded by bouquets and garlands of greenish roses, navy-dyed carnations, and cream-colored lilies. Iris’s expression beamed all the brighter for being surrounded once again by gorgeous flowers.

The ceremony itself was a simple, modest celebration of love between David and Sam, whose eyes never left each other the whole time. Rings, vows, and kisses were exchanged, and the entire hall erupted into congratulations for the newlyweds. Practically everyone eagerly rushed to offer their blessings to the grooms.

Everyone that is, except Iris.

“What’s wrong?” Alden asked, catching her teary-eyed expression before she could hide it.

“N-nothing. Nothing at all,” Iris assured him. “They look so happy, I just–”

Alden couldn’t help but smile at her, not when Iris was being so open and vulnerable with him. A grin lingered on his face long after Iris stopped crying.

“Come on,” Alden said as he offered a hand for Iris to take. “The reception’s starting soon.”

Eager for some fresh air and a chance to stretch their legs, the pair retreated to the banquet hall for the reception. Cheerful classical music played by a live band filled the enormous hall, which was littered with stands of punch, wine, and hors d’oevres to enjoy before dinner. Iris shared a small plate of food with Alden before making her boldest request yet.

“W-would you like to dance?” Iris asked.

Alden froze before belatedly replying, “I’m not very good, but—”

It hardly mattered to Iris. An infectious grin lightened the mood when they both missed steps or messed up their choreography. Anytime she stepped on his foot or Alden nearly lost balance, Iris would smile broadly and declare to her partner that she was having a marvelous time on the dancefloor. Fortunately, Iris was equally out of practice, which made dancing with the wallflower all the more enjoyable, as far as Alden was concerned.

Out of breath from another fabulous debacle, Iris and Alden retreated to the outskirts to rest and enjoy watching the others take to the floor. Iris was just about to ask Alden something that had been on her mind since she arrived, but was lately interrupted by the approach of a fearsome corporate gorgon, hell-bent on spoiling their fun.

“Really, Alden?” a shrill, familiar voice interrupted, causing both Alden and Iris to stand at attention. The elder Cavendish was unbothered by his mother’s usual dissatisfied tone, but poor Iris trembled next to him, averting her gaze.

“How could you show up with the help?” Barbara sneered. “I had a list packed with suitable candidates for you to choose from, and you bring some secretary to David and Sam’s wedding?”

Alden rolled his eyes at Barbara’s short-sighted selfishness. Still, outright defiance would only alienate Miss Alcazar further, and wouldn’t get him anywhere with his mother’s badgering. Some careful maneuvering was required to handle Barbara’s displeasure, and he had the perfect response already prepared.

“Of course, Mother,” Alden pushed. “And of them, how many ladies would see us together at the wedding and try all the harder to get attention for themselves?”

It was true that no one here knew Iris Alcazar. Were it not for her locks of dark-purple hair, not even Barbara would recognize the common-looking woman. She wasn’t glamorous or ostentatious; Iris had a simple charm and an endearing smile, once she felt comfortable enough to show it.

At his assertions, Barbara backed off with a devious smirk. “I see you’ve thought of everything then. I hope you’ll be more responsive to the ladies’ inquiries in the future. Or else I might have to pursue other options…”

Barbara swaggered off without another word to mingle with other wedding guests and show off her younger son, leaving the pair shaken and forlorn. Alden glanced over to his partner, worried that she might be offended, but Iris merely pursed her lips and smiled again.

Don’t cry. Don’t mess up, Iris scolded herself. You needed to hear that. This is just a favor for a friend, nothing more. If anything, Mrs. Cavendish just complimented you for helping. So go on, keep smiling…

Alden took Iris’s hand and squeezed it gently, still unconvinced by her expression. The light had gone out of Iris’s eyes, and an aching, looming sensation remained, festering in Alden’s chest like rot. His date remained polite and friendly, but there was an emptiness Alden couldn’t ignore…

Iris had put up with Barbara’s disdain, Alanbee’s needling of her, and several callous remarks about her appearance throughout the reception. It was clear that the fun had died out for Iris long ago, yet she held on, patiently waiting for the first chance to leave.

Alden was committed to staying at least long enough to give well-wishes to the grooms and greet all the guests. Short of that, his appetite for bougee snacks and snide comments was long past depleted.

There were a ton of familiar faces in the mob to meet, including many bigwigs, vendors, and quite a few high-profile clients. Mr. Hutchison, Mr. Corwin from Helix Limited, and even their east-coast clients had joined the soiree.

“We can go after they cut the cake,” Alden offered with a whisper into her ear. “I’ve had about enough of this my–”

Alden stopped speaking once he caught the petrified look of abject horror on Iris’s face. He reached down to gently touch Iris’s hand, only to find her shaking. “Iris? What’s wrong?”

Iris didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. There, in front of them, some thirty feet away, was a boorish, loud man congratulating the grooms. His mood improved tremendously upon spotting the purple-haired office worker he’d taken a shine to.

“Pleece…” Iris’s hand shook ferociously in Alden’s as she tried desperately to contain her fright.

Breaking off from their revelry, jingling like a rattlesnake’s tail, strode Mr. Matheson in his expensive Italian suit and his horrible, gaudy jewelry. Iris blanched at the sight of him, squeezing Alden’s hand so tightly that her knuckles went white.

Alden knew Iris didn’t like Mr. Maker’s advances, or anyone touching her, for that matter. But this was somehow different. Iris wasn’t merely uncomfortable, she was terrified.

“C-can we go?” Iris asked pitifully with a glazed, unblinking stare.

“Of course,” Alden replied.

As soon as he finished answering, Iris took off like a shot, still clutching Alden’s hand with her frigid fingers. Iris was frantically looking left and right as they raced through the halls of the expansive wedding venue, determined to find a secluded space away from Mr. Matheson’s hungry stares.

Not here. Not here either.

Alden flinched as he thought he heard Iris speak, but there was too much noise from their fleeing footfalls to make it out entirely. There were people working or visiting in nearly every room, with one notable exception. Iris made a mad dash for a small supply closet, with Alden right behind her.

With surprising tenacity, Iris yanked Alden’s arm to follow her inside, and only took a breath once the door was closed behind them. It was cramped, narrow, and dark in the supply room, and both party-goers were panting hard for air.

“Iris? What’s–”

A cold hand shot up to stop Alden from speaking, with Iris’s fingers pressing against his lips to keep them closed. Alden bristled at the contact, his shoulders tensing at how close Iris had gotten to him to beg for silence.

The soft, lingering aroma of hand soap and shampoo filled Alden’s nose, and he shivered at the familiar scent from that peaceful night so long ago. It took everything Alden had to remain still and not react to how close they’d become, and he didn’t dare open his mouth or move, for fear of worsening their plight on the spot.

Alden might have enjoyed this unexpected proximity more, were it not for Iris’s fearful quaking as she waited in the dark for danger to pass. The frightened woman slowly lowered her arms to release Alden from her pressure, bringing her hands low to protect her tiny body.

It's okay…

Alden tensed his brows at hearing Iris’s voice, timid and frail, frightened and desperate in the cramped supply closet. Her head had gingerly nestled against his chest, yet her words still managed to reach him.

You’re safe now…

Iris was still clinging to Alden, feebly shivering as she clutched onto his suit jacket for dear life. A pair of leather shoes creaked outside their door, striding with unearned confidence as a familiar jingle caught Iris’s attention. Her fingers dug into Alden’s jacket and shirt as she grasped even harder into her partner’s suit for comfort.

Nothing bad will happen…

Alden swallowed hard against the emerging lump in his throat. Of course, nothing bad was going to happen. It was just him and Iris, smashed against each other in a supply closet. Whoever was outside was surely no match for anything Alden could inflict on them, and he was confident that, come what may, Alden could protect Iris from harm.

You’re safe, honey… He’s right here…

The words shook Alden deeply. Iris must have spoken them so softly, and yet they rang out in his head with crystal clarity. She spoke to herself like Alden wasn’t pressed up against her; perhaps to soothe frazzled nerves, or as a way to put figurative distance between them. Regardless of the reason, Alden couldn’t help himself.

Slowly, carefully, Alden wrapped his arms around Iris and hugged her tightly enough for the frightened woman to hear his beating heart through layers of fine clothing. His fingers dug into the silky fabric of her dress ever so slightly, with tiny sequins on her bodice poking into tensed fingers.

Iris whimpered faintly as the rattlesnake made another pass by their supply closet door, this time with a defeated air to its movements. With footsteps retreating into the distance, Iris struggled to contain tears, her body shaking as she suppressed fearful sobs.

Alden clenched his jaw as Iris cried weakly against him. He wanted to say something, anything to comfort the poor woman and aleviate her fears. At another bout of strained tears, Alden bent low enough to graze her hair with his lips, and whisper gently into Iris’s ear.

“It’s okay, Iris. You’re okay,” Alden soothed before adding, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Alden reached for the door handle to see if it was indeed Mr. Matheson skulking around to torment his precious friend, but Iris begged him not to move.

“P-pleece,” Iris sobbed. “Pleece doan leave. Juss wait…”

His hand lowered at Iris’s desperate pleas, and her insistence forced Alden’s brows to furrow in confusion. Just what was Iris so afraid of? Why did she look like someone just walked over her grave?

The east-coast magnate was well-known for his poor behavior and brash manners, but did Iris dislike him for a more nefarious reason than that? Whatever Mr. Matheson had done, or whatever he’d tried to do in the past was enough to reduce Iris to tears.

Alden wracked his brain to come up with a reason for it, but the possibilities were too many to count. It wouldn’t do any good to upset his partner further by asking, so Alden changed tactics.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Alden soothed. “Just stay here… Just like this… We’ll sneak out the back in a few minutes and make a run for it. My car’s in the parking garage across the street.”

“Th-then I can go home?” Iris asked pitifully.

It broke Alden’s heart to see her so upset. This was supposed to be a joyful occasion, and the office manager would be damned if he didn’t finish this day without giving Iris a happy memory or two to hold onto. If not, all she’d have was a brief, haphazard dance, a thorough brow-beating from Barbara Cavendish, and a near-miss encounter with the frightfully crass Mr. Matheson. Surely, Alden could do better than that.

“I’ll take you home, I promise,” Alden assured her. “But how would you like something to eat? I know just the place, if you’ll say ‘yes.’”