Gilded Lily: An Enemies to Lovers, Opposites Attract Romantic Comedy

by Staci Hart

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Good.”

  When she smiled, it was with genuine relief. But the expression shifted to uncertainty.

  “Don’t worry,” I started, heading off whatever she was about to say. “Nothing’s changed. I know just where we stand, what we are. It’s just that I’m having too much fun distracting you to be interested in distracting anyone else.”

  I was rewarded with a laugh, a laugh that I kissed away until she was pliant in my arms.

  The click of the light was succeeded by a noise from my mother that landed somewhere between a gasp and a squeal. Lila and I shot apart like polar magnets.

  “Aha! I knew it! I knew you had a girlfriend, Kassius Bennet, and I cannot believe you didn’t tell me!” she scolded with a smile. “But Lila Parker? Of all the wonderful surprises.”

  Lila and I exchanged a mortified look, hers notably more mortified than mine.

  “Mom, hang on—”

  She waved me off, beelining for Lila with her hands outstretched. “My dear, I am just so thrilled. Kassius is such a good boy. Even if he doesn’t tell his mother important things like who he’s given his heart to—”

  “Mom—”

  “Which seems to be a popular Bennet trait that’s cropped up of late. My darling girl, do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to find a suitable match for Kassius? Years,” she answered herself. “Years and years but to no avail. And to think, I thought he was seeing Verdant.” Another wave of her hand in my direction, this time coupled with a roll of her eyes.

  “Mom!”

  Studiously, she ignored me, taking Lila’s hands. “But Lila? This is just so wonderful. I always have liked her, haven’t I, Kassius?” Again, she didn’t require an answer, likely guessing—correctly, I might add—that I’d rat her out. My mother most certainly had not been a fan of Lila’s when she was making a habit of marching in here to tell me off. “Come, come. You’ll have dinner with us tonight.”

  I stepped in, knowing the only way to stop her was to physically intercede. “Maybe Lila has plans tonight.”

  Mom’s bottom lip slipped out. “Do you?”

  “I, um—”

  Mom clapped. “Good then. You will come to dinner, and we’ll all get to know each other better.”

  Before I could pry my mother’s hands from Lila’s, she was off, dragging Lila behind her like a carnival toy I’d won her, prattling on about how happy she was. Lila cast a pitiful look in my direction, but underneath it was a shimmer of pride as she let herself be towed up the stairs.

  I followed, smiling up behind them, hoping Mom didn’t ruin this for me. If her brazen campaign scared Lila off, I swore I’d never forgive her. But Lila seemed more amused than anything, willing to go along with it all for the sake of appeasing my mother.

  That alone should have had me proposing on the spot.

  We aren’t together, she’d said, a statement that was as true as it was false.

  I’d promised her I wouldn’t see anyone else and she’d done the same, but it was only an incremental step toward something bigger, something that loomed inevitably, impossibly, over us.

  The lesson Ali had taught me was fresh as ever, and it wasn’t one I was keen to repeat. Especially not now. Especially not with Lila. So I’d keep on lying to myself with the unlikely hope that one day, I’d believe it when I promised her I knew where we stood despite the knowledge that the line had blown away with the wind.

  * * *

  LILA

  I probably should have made my excuses and gone.

  The first time the thought struck me, I’d just walked into the greenhouse to find a gorgeous, expensively dressed woman with her hand on his arm. I’d felt the obligation to leave once more when Mrs. Bennet finagled me into dinner, particularly upon noting the terrified look on Kash’s face. Even now, as I sat at a rowdy table surrounded by Bennets, I felt as if I should leave, as if I didn’t belong. It didn’t help that I stood out like a match in the toothpicks, too formal and stiff for the likes of the Bennets.

  Really, I should have gone. But I was enjoying myself too much to go through with it.

  That was, assuming that Mrs. Bennet would have let me get away, which I somehow doubted. I wouldn’t put a running tackle past her if she thought it would keep a prospect for one of her children in the room.

  “So where are you staying now?” Mrs. Bennet asked before sliding a fork loaded with casserole into her mouth.

  It was the umpteenth prying question she’d asked, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind so much, it worried me.

  “With Ivy,” I answered without hesitation. “I’ve been looking for a place of my own but haven’t found the right one yet.”

  “The perfect place, the perfect space,” she mused. “Of course, I’ve been known to say that there’s no such thing as perfect. Just like there’s sometimes no right or wrong answer—only the answer you choose. Yes or no. Door number one or door number two.”

  I chuckled. “As a hardened perfectionist, that’s a difficult thing to convince myself of, though I don’t disagree.”

  “I heard a little about your ex-boyfriend.”

  I stiffened, as did Kash next to me.

  “Pass the peas, please, Mom?” he asked, clearly intending to divert her.

  The attempt failed. She passed the peas, picking up right where she’d left off.

  “You’ll have to understand something very important about the Bennets—there are no secrets here. Chances are, if you think you’ve got one, at least half the rest of them already know.”

  A quiet chuckle from the Bennets.

  “Forgive me for saying so, but I must say that I think it’s terrible what happened. I’m just so glad that you found Kassius. I hope you know he would never be anything but true.”

  At that, I smiled at Kash, and he smiled back, though it was apologetic.

  “No, I don’t believe he would.”

  “You make him sound like a saint,” Luke said, shoveling a bite of his own into his mouth.

  Mom’s nose snapped into the air. “Well, he was the only one who stayed here at Longbourne.” At the rise of dissent that broke out among her children, she added, “I want you all to follow your dreams, I do, but I missed you all terribly, and I’m not sorry for saying so.”

  The dissent fizzled into jokes and loving words, and I listened, taking a sip of my wine and enjoying the comforting hum of their family, which was its own living thing.

  “Lila, I’ve been dying to know,” Mrs. Bennet started, cutting through the chatter, “what cut diamond do you prefer?”

  My wine somehow ended up in my airway, and I coughed to shake it loose as the Bennets almost simultaneously exclaimed some version of her moniker, Kash the loudest.

  “You’ve been wondering?” Kash asked flatly.

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Mother, I would ask you if you have no shame,” he said with stern force, “but I already know the answer.”

  She shrugged innocently, picking up her wine glass. “What? It’s a perfectly normal question for one woman to ask another.”

  “It most certainly is not,” Laney said, pinning her with a warning look.

  “Lila is a wedding planner. I’d wager she knows the various cuts better than you, Elaine.”

  This was true, but my napkin was still pressed to my lips as the coughing wound down. Kash’s hand patted my back gently, and a brief and befuddling vision of him patting a baby’s back just like that flashed in my mind.

  Mr. Bennet spoke without looking up from his plate as he loaded his spoon. “We got that shipment of prairie clover in.”

  Immediately, Mrs. Bennet pounced, the conversation fueled and stoked by Tess, who mercifully steered her through a number of topics, ending up in weddings where I joined in. As we went on about floral arrangements, the rest of the table carried on, the bubbling conversation easy and fluid, just like the Bennets. They might run on high octane, but they didn’t seem to q
uarrel, didn’t seem to snipe. The jab here or there, sure, but it was clear without more than a moment with them that they were a unit, a team. Even as an outsider, or perhaps especially as one, there was a feeling of belonging and a desire to belong, to become a part of that unit and hope that your little cog was somehow useful to their machine.

  Kash slid his big hand into my lap, palm up, and I filled it with mine. We shared a look, a look that noted the farce as well as the rightness. It was a strange thing, the knowledge that we weren’t much more than a fling and the sense that we were so much more.

  But I reminded myself of the truth between us. He didn’t want a relationship any more than I’d said I did when this all began. It was he who’d proposed we enter into this arrangement, and he’d made it clear that this was nothing more than an affair, a fleeting attachment. Nothing more, no matter how it might feel.

  And I put that truth on repeat to carry on with the sham, pretending not to enjoy it as much as I did.

  By the time dinner was over, I’d been asked only a couple more inappropriate questions, none of which fazed me, simply because I didn’t believe Mrs. Bennet would ever do any purposeful harm. I helped the Bennets clear the table and wash the dishes, wearing a hot-pink apron covered in yellow daisies that Mrs. Bennet had me don to protect the integrity of my white suit. But the second things slowed down, Kash made our excuses and swept me out the door with my unending promises to return soon and a hug from his mother that might have dislocated a rib.

  As we walked toward our hotel, I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, and he flexed his arm to draw me closer.

  “I am so sorry about that,” he said the moment we were out of earshot of the house.

  I imagined Mrs. Bennet rushing to open one of the front facing windows so she wouldn’t miss a thing, and the vision made me smile.

  “Don’t be. I enjoyed being your … well, if your mother is to be believed, we’re to be engaged any day.”

  He chuckled, but the sound was edged with discomfort.

  “Really. It was fine. Your mother is sweet, and your family is … they’re lovely. And very welcoming. Although I shudder to think what would happen if I ever did you wrong.”

  “A witch hunt.”

  “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

  We walked in silence for a moment.

  “It was a weird night,” he said.

  “It was definitely that. But I mean it—I enjoyed myself. Other than the whole ex thing. I could have done without that,” I teased. But when he didn’t laugh or make a joke, I pulled us to a stop. “I never stopped to ask if you were all right.”

  At the question, he looked so deeply into my eyes, I thought for a moment we both might drown from the weight of that long, solitary stare. But just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again, leaving me wondering if I’d imagined it.

  With a smile, he said, “As long as I’m with you, everything’s all right.”

  And when he kissed me, it wiped the world away, leaving me to believe the same was true.

  16

  Ophelia

  LILA

  A handful of days passed easily. I’d taken up semi-permanent residence at the hotel where I spent most nights with Kash, still reveling in the newfound pleasure of his company. While my days were crammed with meetings and appointments and the occasional apartment viewing, my nights were rife with Kash.

  I’d been swept up like a summer breeze, easy and warm and with promises of endless sunshine.

  It was liberating and terrifying, like riding a bike with no hands. I might careen out of control before I got my hands on the bars, or I could ride on with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. It could go either way, and what a thrill that was.

  I hummed happily as I checked my reflection in the mirror of my sister’s apartment. It was my first day off in nearly two weeks—the reconfiguration of the Felix wedding having eaten every spare minute I had—and my only plans were to meet Kash at the greenhouse. I’d dredged up my only pair of jeans and one of my two T-shirts, a fashionable V-neck in white.

  The truth of my addiction to white, black, and the occasional shade of gray was that I didn’t have a head for fashion and color, not as it pertained to me. I could choose wedding colors for someone else without a second thought, but my wardrobe was as stark and rigid as I was.

  As old me was. As I’d looked over my closet, I made it a point to add some color. Any color that couldn’t be considered neutral.

  I looked fresh and easy, relaxed and happy. I almost didn’t recognize myself, my hair loosely braided, my face devoid of makeup beyond a touch of mascara. Regardless of the fact that these were the most casual clothes I owned, they weren’t fit for gardening—high-waisted designer jeans, expensive T-shirt half-tucked, a woven Chanel belt—but it was the best I had. Ivy’s canvas sneakers were the most authentic thing about me, scuffed with dirt and crinkled in the creases with use.

  Kash would tease me in that way of his, a joke that felt more like a compliment than an insult, an endearment rather than an affront. A fluttering in my ribcage flushed my cheeks, just like thinking of him always did.

  He gave me what he’d promised—he’d been the best distraction. Since we’d started seeing each other, work had been exponentially more bearable, simply because nothing could touch me. Kash had me floating above it all, too blissed out to be bothered with pithy things like Addison and her shitty attitude. And Brock was largely a thing of the past. Every day that passed with Kash left me wondering why I’d wasted so much time with someone who was so clearly wrong for me. These days, I felt beautiful and appreciated in ways I hadn’t in years.

  Maybe it was the nature of our relationship. There was a reckless abandon, an untethered freedom I’d found in him. I wished I could have said it was just about sex. I’d come to crave his smile, the lightness I felt when he was near. Of course, I craved his body too, desperately sometimes. Intensely. In moments least expected, like at a wedding venue or signing contracts. He would creep into my mind, the memory of long nights and the feel of his hands, rough and able. Of his body, hot and hard. And just like that, I’d need him with urgency that shocked and electrified me. I was alive with feeling.

  I smoothed my shirt once more, ignoring the sharp edge of danger, a sheer drop off a cliff. Because how I felt didn’t have to be considered, not now. Not yet. I didn’t have to decide what to do or what would come. I was living in the moment just like everyone said you should. It shouldn’t matter that every moment was filled with Kash. But it did.

  For now, I ignored it with every ounce of willpower I possessed, which was saying something. I had metric tons of willpower at my disposal.

  I exited the bathroom, light on my feet, smile on my face. As I passed the couch, I leaned over the back and kissed my sister on the cheek.

  “Look at you,” she said, craning her neck to see me. “I didn’t even know you owned jeans.”

  “Lucky for me, I didn’t have to borrow yours. They would have been high waters on me.”

  “Maybe you could bring them back in style.” At the look on my face, she added, “I’m just saying, if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

  “I’ll leave that to Audrey Hepburn.”

  “I can’t believe you’re going to work in the dirt. What are you going to do about your manicure?”

  “I have an appointment tomorrow during lunch, thank you very much.”

  She smiled at me, proud and a little smug. “I’m proud of you.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. Loosening up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed, not even when we were teenagers. You were too busy planning all the ways to crush someone in debate or working on your student council calendar to actually have fun or relax.”

  “Hey, prepping for debate is fun.”

  “Says you. But arguing is your love language, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  I snorted a laugh and rolled my eyes. “Kash promised to te
ach me how to grow something.”

  “You? I’ve seen your cactus graveyard. Kash doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.”

  “He really doesn’t,” I said on a laugh as something in my chest twisted.

  A pause while she watched me. “You like him.”

  An answering sigh from deep in my lungs. “I really do.”

  She turned, folding her arms on the back of the couch with her brows drawn. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing. Not yet. I don’t have to decide,” I said for the thousandth time that week.

  Carefully, she said, “No, you don’t. But at some point, you will.”

  “I know,” I answered to my fingernails, not wanting to meet her eyes.

  “It’s been weeks. I don’t mean to rain on your parade—”

  “But you’re going to.”

  “—but I’m going to,” she confirmed. “Things can be uncomplicated, but not forever. And not unless you’re booty calling and don’t actually like the other person. Which isn’t the case.”

  “I know.”

  “And now you’re going to the greenhouse on what can only be considered a date—”

  “It’s not a date,” I insisted.

  She gave me a look.

  “What? We’re mucking around in the dirt, for God’s sake.”

  Her look exaggerated. “It’s a date, and dates are supposedly verboten. Just like spending the night, which was also forbidden, and which you have also disregarded.”

  “You sound awfully judgy,” I snarked.

  “I’m not judging, I’m trying to get you to admit the truth. You like him, Lila, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re allowed to have feelings for him.”

  Shock hit me first, the simple and naked truth of it blinding. For a moment, I was stunned, not realizing something very important.

  Ever since Brock, I’d been telling myself I wasn’t allowed to feel anything beyond lust, not with Kash and not so soon after the way things ended with Brock.