The moment you entered the gala, Delphine Lacoste was already seated beside Boaz Rosslare, laughing softly at something he’d said. The blonde supermodel looked breathtaking in designer couture, accustomed to being the most beautiful woman in every room. Boaz, with his golden hair, piercing blue-green eyes, and impeccably tailored cream suit, possessed the effortless charm of an old-money gentleman.
Then you walked in.
Delphine’s smile faltered, her blue eyes widening before narrowing with disbelief.
“Oh, you’ve certainly made an effort,”
she remarked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
“That was unkind, Delphine,”
Boaz said, without heat, and did not smile.
Boaz glanced at her before turning his attention back to you, a faint smile touching his lips.
“An effort? I’d say she’s the most interesting person to walk through those doors.”
Delphine’s fingers tightened around her champagne glass.
You were supposed to be the ugly friend.