Being stuck in an elevator with a stranger was bad enough. But when Lena found out that Dylan – a charming, mysterious man in a suit – needed a fake date for a wedding the next day, things got even weirder. A blackout, a daring proposal and a tempting question: Would she really say yes to a complete stranger?
Lena checked her watch for the third time in a minute. Late. Again.
She exhaled sharply and slipped a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she walked down the corridor of the boutique hotel.
The air smelled of fresh lilies, their floral sharpness mixed with the faintest trace of citrus and polished wood.
It was the kind of scent that clung to weddings, the kind that brought back memories of champagne toasts, aching feet in high heels and tearful speeches that went on too long.
An appropriate reminder, considering her best friend had gotten married last week.
Lena reached the elevator and pressed the button, as if sheer determination could speed up the machinery.
She bounced on her heels, her fingers anxiously tapping the strap of her handbag.
She barely heard the elevator’s soft chime before rushing inside.
Just as the doors began to close, a blurred movement caught her attention. A man lunged at her and his shoulder collided with hers as the suitcase wobbled dangerously.
“Sorry…” he began, with a chuckle muffled in his voice. He straightened up, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle in his impeccable suit.
Lena barely spared him a glance. “Don’t worry.”
And then everything stopped.
The elevator gave a violent jolt. The lights flickered once, twice, and then stabilized. The hum of movement disappeared.
Lena felt a knot in her stomach. A dense, charged silence filled the small space.
She pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing.
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, pressing her palm against the cold metal doors as if she could make them open.
Beside her, the man let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. ‘A classic. Whenever you’re in a hurry.’
Lena finally turned to face him. Sharp blue eyes. Disheveled blond hair. A suit that looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine.
A Hallmark movie hero, if she’d ever seen one.
“I guess you have somewhere important to go,“ she asked, her lips twisted in amusement.
“Dinner with a friend,” she murmured. “She got married last week. We planned it before I left town.”
“Ah,“ he nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. ‘Funny coincidence. The wedding I’m going to is tomorrow.”
Lena blinked. ’Wait. You…”
“Dylan.” He held out a hand, palm up, as if it were the most normal introduction in the world. “Best man. And emergency wedding date finder.”
Before she could process that, the intercom crackled overhead.
“Hey, folks? Looks like we have a small power outage affecting the elevators. We’re working on it. It may take a while.”
Lena closed her eyes briefly. “Perfect.”
Dylan chuckled. ”Look on the bright side. At least we’re not alone here.”
She shot him a look. “Yeah. Because being trapped with a stranger is somehow better than being trapped alone.”
He shrugged and gave a lazy smile. ”Depends on the stranger, doesn’t it?”
They remained for a moment in uncomfortable silence. The hum of the hotel activity beyond the metal doors seemed distant, as if they were suspended in time.
Then, out of the blue, Dylan asked: “So, is there any chance you’ll sign up for a second wedding in a week’s time?”
Lena turned slowly towards him, one eyebrow raised. ”What was that?”
“I need a date for the wedding.” He smiled contentedly, leaning against the wall as if it were just another casual conversation.
“My ex is going to be there, and I’d rather not be the guy sitting alone at the singles table. Think of it as a fake date for a noble cause.”
Lena let out a brief laugh. Was this guy serious?
“Are you seriously asking a complete stranger to be your date while we’re trapped in an elevator?”
Dylan shrugged, completely indifferent. “So is that a yes or a no?”
Lena never thought she would actually do it.
It had all sounded ridiculous: a fake date with a man she barely knew, just to help him look good at a wedding. And yet, here she was.
She ran her hands over the fabric of her red dress, the one she had almost left hanging at the bottom of her suitcase.
It wasn’t her usual style: too bold, too flashy, too everything.
But there was something about this night that made her want to be someone else, even if only for a few hours.
Dylan was by her side, with a glass of champagne in one hand and his other hand lightly on her back. He was calm, effortless, completely at ease. Not like her.
She forced a polite smile when another guest approached, giving her curious looks.
Weddings were like that: everyone wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if your presence meant something.
Dylan, on the other hand, played the part perfectly.
He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear: “That woman in the blue dress has been trying to find out if we’re engaged for ten minutes”.
Lena could hardly contain her laughter. “Should I show a fake ring just to tease her?”
His eyes sparkled. ”Tempting. But then I’d have to plan an even faker proposal.”
They moved around the room as if they had done it hundreds of times before: his easy touch, his charming words, his smile like a safety net.
And then came the dance.
The moment his fingers intertwined with hers, the moment he guided her to a slow, flowing rhythm, Lena forgot for a second that this wasn’t real.
His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that told her to trust him. The warmth of his palm against her waist sent an unfamiliar chill through her.
This was pretend. She knew it. But something in the way he looked at her, as if she were the only person in the room, made it too easy to forget.
As the bride and groom swayed in the center of the dance floor, Lena raised her head. “Tell me,” she murmured, “what about your ex?”
Dylan took a sip of champagne and, for the first time all night, his smile flickered. Just for a second.
“Maya,” he said, rolling the name on his tongue as if it were still part of him. ‘We dated for a while. Things got… complicated.”
Lena raised an eyebrow. ’How did they get complicated?”
She exhaled slowly and lowered her eyes to the golden liquid swirling in her glass. “He thought I wasn’t serious enough. That I didn’t have time for her.”
“And did you?”
Dylan paused and gave a dry chuckle. ”Maybe not. But I was trying.”
Before Lena could reply, someone called Dylan’s name.
He turned just in time to see her.
Maya.
Lena needed no introduction to know exactly who she was.
Tall. Balanced. Beautiful in that natural way that made other women feel they were trying too hard.
Her presence filled the room with a kind of silent power, as if she knew she belonged wherever she went.
And when she reached Dylan, she hugged him.
It wasn’t a casual, polite hug. Not one of those awkward hugs you get these days.
Something in between. Something that made Lena’s chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t.
She wasn’t supposed to care. This wasn’t real.
And yet it felt as if it were.
The reception was in full swing – laughter, glasses clinking, music vibrating on the floor – but Lena could hardly hear anything.
She gripped the stem of her champagne glass too tightly as she watched Dylan and Maya across the room.
Too close. Too familiar. Too much. They were speaking softly and their expressions were unreadable. Whatever they were saying, she couldn’t hear it.
Yet she couldn’t look away.
It was supposed to be a game. A favor. A night of harmless pretense. But now her stomach was churning and she hated that feeling.
A shadow moved beside her. “Is everything all right?”
Dylan.
Lena blinked, looking away from Maya. She forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Great. Are you and Maya catching up?”
Dylan frowned slightly, but he did it. ’Not really. I just wanted to see how she was.”
See how she was. Yeah, right!
“Lena,” he began, now in a softer, more careful voice. ‘You know this isn’t…”
“Not real?’ she interrupted, her heart pounding. ”Yes, I know.”
The words are not right.
He swallowed. He had to leave before he made a fool of himself.
“Thanks for the night, Dylan,” she said, turning on her heel. ”But I think I’m done pretending.”
And she left.
Lena had packed her bag before the sun came up. She had spent the night convincing herself that leaving was the right decision. No murky feelings. No unnecessary complications. Just a clean break.
But when she slung her bag over her shoulder and entered the hotel lobby, she felt her chest weigh heavier than it should. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was something else.
She headed to the café, craving caffeine and distraction, but fate had other plans.
She turned the corner too fast and suddenly collided.
The hot coffee came dangerously close to her dress as Dylan stumbled backwards, grabbing her cup to stop the spill.
“Lena?“ His voice was a mixture of surprise and something else, something unreadable.
She cursed under her breath. Of course. Of course she had to meet him now.
“I was just …” she began, but Dylan didn’t believe it.
“You were leaving?” His eyes fixed on hers, penetrating, searching. ‘Without saying anything?”
Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that strongly resembled nostalgia. ’It was supposed to be a one-off, wasn’t it?”
Dylan was silent for a moment, then exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice rough. ‘That’s what I thought too.’ He hesitated and then took a step closer. ‘Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”
Lena’s pulse trembled. ’What?”
“Last night,“ he said, now in a softer, firmer voice, ‘I saw you leave and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”
Her heart pounded in her ribs. ’Dylan…”
“Maya doesn’t matter to me,” he interrupted, in a firm and confident tone. “I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”
Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt – fear – assailed her. “What if this is just …?”
“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, realizing her doubts. ”You feel it too. Don’t you?”
She swallowed.
Yes.
Yes, she did.
So, for once, she stopped thinking too much.
She took a step forward, raised her hand and kissed him.
A warm kiss. Real. Nothing to do with pretending.
Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”
Lena laughed softly. ‘Maybe. But only if you promise we won’t get trapped in elevators again.”
Dylan chuckled and his hand slid easily around her waist. ’No guarantees.”
And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.