As the doors closed, Jess was reminded of the other times she’d been in an elevator with River—the strained silence, the unspoken disdain between them. Going back to that felt like it’d be simpler than this unmeasurable, unmanageable attraction.

River cut into the quiet. “I think I need to clear something up.” Jess looked up at him in question, his eyes fixed on the wall ahead. “About my sisters.”

“Oh?” She had no idea where this was headed, but the pace of the world’s second-slowest elevator suggested there’d be plenty of time to find out.

“They are investors,” he said. “They both put in money at the very beginning of the project. But that isn’t what I meant by ‘invested.’” Finally, he looked down at her. “About the cologne.”

Jess bit back a laugh. He was so serious. “Okay.”

“They think this”—he gestured between them—“is very …” He paused, and then gave her a sardonic smile. “Very exciting. But,” he quickly added, “please don’t feel pressured by their enthusiasm.”

Nodding, Jess gave him another quiet “Okay.”

“And I’m telling you this now because up there is waiting a roomful of people who, you already know, are deeply financially invested in how you and I interact, and I don’t want you to go in there thinking that everything is for show.” River reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out his phone. He swiped it awake, opened it to his photos, and began scrolling. Finally, he found what he was looking for and turned the screen to face her.

For a second, Jess had no idea what she was seeing. River’s doofus doppelgänger was her best guess. He was in his early twenties, but his posture read even younger, way less confident.

“Do you recognize him?” he asked.

She was afraid to guess. This scrawny, hunched, mismatched child could not be—

“It’s me.” He swiped through a few more, showing her several photos of the same dorky alternate-reality version of himself.

“Plaid shorts and striped shirt was a real style choice,” Jess said, laughing.

“I moved away from home when I was sixteen,” he said, and the elevator doors opened.

Her stomach vaulted into her throat because for the past ten seconds, she’d forgotten where they were. They stepped out, but River paused in the marble foyer leading to a single front door.

“I graduated high school early and started at Stanford when I was about four months shy of turning seventeen.”

“Holy shit.”

“I was probably twenty in this picture—although you’d never guess it—and you can see that once my sisters could no longer exert daily influence, I had no idea how to dress myself.”

Jess burst out laughing, sparking a return smile.

“If it weren’t for them, I’d probably still be wearing those plaid shorts.”

“Please, no. Your sisters are doing a much better job.”

He laughed now. “It’s just how they are. They left for school on the East Coast when I was in high school and … it wasn’t always … They feel responsible for me.” River licked his lips and glanced up at the door before back to her. “All of this is to say: I wasn’t thinking of this roomful of people when I put the cologne on earlier. I was thinking of you.”

She didn’t know what else to say besides “Thank you for telling me.”

Jess was split in half—turned on by his confession and terrified by it.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to need a bigger response. Straightening, River turned to face the Grubers’ double front door and took a deep breath. She expected him to ring the bell, but he didn’t.

After a few long, increasingly awkward moments of silence, Jess asked, “You okay?”

“I hate these things,” he admitted.

It was a little like being hit in the face with the obvious stick.

Of course: River wasn’t a callous, gruff asshole. He was shy. Having to do this part of the job was probably miserable for him. Jess felt this as clearly as if she’d just read it on a pamphlet entitled Instructions to Your Soulmate. Framing every one of their past interactions through this lens only solidified for her that River was nothing like Brandon—all smiles and easy charm. He was most comfortable when facing the fume hood with his back to the room, just him and some tubes and billions and billions of paired-up nucleotides.

She was going to have to be the brave one here. Reaching down, Jess laced her fingers with his. Warmth spiraled up from her fingertips, crackling along every inch to her shoulder and across her chest.

“We’ve got this,” she said.

He squeezed her hand. “We don’t have much choice.”

“Let’s just stay together, okay?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Good plan.”

In unison, they took a deep, bracing breath. Reaching forward, River pressed the doorbell.

FIFTEEN

THE MOMENT THE door swung open, they could hear the commotion inside come to a brief halt before it broke out into glass-clinking, jewelry-rustling, jacket-straightening mayhem. A chorus of voices whispered their names and They’re here!, followed by a smattering of applause.

A valet stepped unobtrusively to the side as a tall, angular Black man approached, casually gorgeous in a stylish suit, and gave Jess a smile that somehow communicated a warm You can trust me vibe. His hand was outstretched, and only a few paces behind him was a woman, playfully shuffle-jogging in sky-high heels to catch up.

“Trevor Gruber,” he said to Jess, shaking her hand.

“Jess Davis.”

“Great to meet you, Jess.” He pulled River in for a hug. “Good to see you, man. And this,” he said to Jess as the petite Asian woman arrived at his side, “is my wife, Caroline. Thank you so much for coming tonight.”

“Hi, you two!” Caroline embraced Jess first, and then stepped forward to hug River. Her dress clung to and flowed over her body in such a graceful balance that Jess wanted to high-five her. When Caroline moved back, Jess noticed a caterer practically materialize out of thin air.

Caroline offered River a mischievous little smile and reached back to grab a highball glass from the tray held aloft by the waiter. She pressed the drink into River’s hand. “See? One step in the door, just like I promised.” He laughed, and she stretched, kissing his cheek, stage-whispering, “I told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”