"So, what are you thinking for table linens?" Tristan asked Massie from her en-suite bathroom. He was straightening his Tom Ford grey suit jacket in the mirror, and smoothed out his striped navy and white Tommy Hilfigher tie.

He was getting ready for a day at the office. Mr. Block had a meeting today, so Tristan was on his own for the day. Still, he wanted to present the part because he knew he couldn't get away with his uh...extracurricular activities, lest someone find out, unless he did really well with the company. Maybe, just maybe, he'd get spared some credit. Still, he knew it was a risky game he played but he loved games.

It wasn't that these escorts did something for him that Massie didn't. She was beautiful, she was classy, she was virtually flawless, and she was his - but she was perfection and these girls were the actual opposite. They had no problem getting high with him, doing whatever he asked, taking whatever he gave them.

Massie was a challenge to him. She had a brain of her own, she had her own morals, her own beliefs and she'd be damned if you tried to change them. The thing about Massie was that she gave him a run for everything - but, she'd do anything out of fear. These random girls would do anything to pleasure Tristan, whereas Massie was difficult. She didn't want him happy, he felt, she wanted what she wanted.

"Oh, I dunno, my mom has so many ideas." Massie drawled out from her bed, still tucked underneath her covers.

It was getting harder and harder to tolerate him. Her plush cream comforter was soft against her cheeks, her amber eyes drowsy with sleep. Massie's under eyes were growing darker each day, and there isn't enough la mer eye cream to fix that. She was exhausted, always having to keep her guard up when he was around. It seemed like since the golf outing, he was never at his own apartment, which meant he was always at Massie's bedroom in the manner.

She didn't understand why he didn't want his space. He had his questionable tendencies - pills, drugs, whores. She was curious to see when he would crack next, because it was clear since he was staying at her home, he couldn't partake in those activities. She was afraid he'd start lashing out at her, but since she couldn't kick him out, he had no other way to release any of his anger unless it's directly at her.

"What do you want, Massie? This isn't your mom's wedding, it's ours. Personally, I don't have a preference because I just want you to be happy. I just want you to be happy."

"I know, babe, and I appreciate that, T. I do. It's just so confusing right now, we have to straighten out the menus first, then I can concentrate on that."

"Alright, I was just asking. I'll see you after work, okay?"

"Why don't we meet at your place? My family is giving me such a headache lately," Massie drawled out, feigning an eyeroll.

"Whatever you want, babe. I get it. If they're getting sick of me being around every day, I can always stay there for a little until it blows over."

"Yeah, that might be a good idea honestly. They're just so hostile, I'm not sure the reason."

"Hey, I get it. I'll see you later, ok? Love you," Tristan walked back to the bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading out the bedroom door.

She waited until she heard her front door close to let out a sigh of relief. Leaning on her side, she reached into her nightstand and took out her iPhone. She got into the habit of leaving it in there, she even installed a wireless charger in the drawer so that Tristan wouldn't get suspicious of her putting it in there every night.

D.H: Have fun today.

Mass: i feel like you underestimate me.

D.H: I think u can pretend ur enjoying it at least, it's shopping, when has that stopped u?

Mass: i mean i guessssss

D.H: Don't worry princess, you'll be out of the woods soon enough.

Mass: how cryptic. Gm to you too

D.H: Good morning, Mass.

D.H: Can you tell him to sleep in his own bed for once so I can see u?

Mass: tn, come for 9?

D.H: My god, it's past my bedtime but i'll make it work for u.

Mass: like you have anything better to do today?

D.H: Finalizing some sponsorships with Nike and i think LV today.

Mass: oh?

D.H: Don't worry, ur stilll most important.

Mass: thought so!

There was a fresh coat of January snow outside Len Rivera's office. It wasn't enough to stop any traffic, but enough for it to be the first inconvenience of the day. William's snow boots were dusted in powder, and each track he left through the sidewalk left a slushy grey mess in his wake.

"Len, what do you mean it's airtight?"

"William, I drafted it the way you asked."

"You didn't think I'd change my mind?!"

"You didn't give me a reason to."

"I cannot believe this." William Block threw his glasses down on Len Rivera's glass-topped desk, sitting back in his chair and sighing loudly. "We've been doing this for two months now, and we still have no answer."

He was the only person he could blame. William did this with a blind eye, and now, he'd be forced to pay the price with the cost of 51% of his company, and his only daughter. He knew he set himself up for this. But, he couldn't see Massie running his company without a strong man behind her. So, he let his sexism get in the way and here he was now.

Len felt pity for Bill. He only knew how he'd react if Alicia got herself mixed up into something like this. He'd do anything to change this, anything to turn back time and change what bad decisions he made regarding her future. But, here he was and he had to help sort a mess out. How was he supposed to tell William that he was running out of options?

"I'm sorry, Len. I fucked up, I really did. But, this was my doing and I'm trying to push my feelings onto someone else because I'm angry with myself."

"You're deflecting."

"Definitely deflecting. I just...Kendra is angry at me for this, Massie's clearly distraught, I'm upset at myself for letting this slip out of my hands the way I did."

"Look, I can't tell you that you were doing a good thing even before you found out the truth about him. This is her legacy, and you're taking it away from her whether he does it or another husband does. It's still wrong, Bill."

"Len, I-"

"No, I can't lie about that. I did it because you asked me to, because it's you, but it was wrong and I'm angry with myself for drafting what you wished. So, now, what are we going to do to fix it? Together, like we've figured out everything else in the past?"

"Over some scotch on the rocks, preferably."

"Changing basket to put on any table, tabletop bottle sanitizer, black and white chanel baby pacifiers, anything else?"

"Oh, what about the fendi blanket? You need it. Just imagine that insta feed."

"Yes, scan it! Such a good point."

"Let's also add on these little valentino rockstar stud flats, because you know she's going to be just as much of a fashionista as we are."

"We're going to have so many shopping playdates, hopefully she doesn't cry in the car!"

Massie and Alicia were in the middle of Bergdorf's creating the list for their registry. Alicia was three months pregnant, and even though they had no confirmation on a gender yet, the two girls knew in their hearts this baby was a girl.

Alicia dreamed of waking up every morning with Josh and their baby girl in her arms. She was already thinking of her daughter's future couture prom dress, her wedding dress, her milestones in designer and her heartbreaks comforted by Saks Fifth. Massie and Alicia throwing her first birthday party, her christening party, all the events that make us who we are.

"I'm sure you and Josh will have the best behaved princess. Now, should we move onto the other shopping? Like, my wedding registry?"

"Oh my god, we still have to do that."

"Yes, and I'd rather not wait to the last minute and have Tristan help, so."

"What are you doing about that, anyway? My father said he was meeting William today." Alicia's voice dropped down to a whisper, afraid of who could be listening to their conversation.

"I have….honestly? I have no idea. I really, truly, do not know what to do or what to say anymore. It's all such a messy situation - I really, really think this is going to end in a poor fashion."

"When you say poor fashion, what do you mean?"

"I think this is going to be a blowout disaster, and my parents will never be looked at the same by our society by the end of this. If I go through with it, I'll lose my whole family fortune to the hands of someone so purely evil. I'll have to wake up next to a man I absolutely hate for the rest of my life. If I back out of this, the prenuptial says that if I don't marry, my shares get reabsorbed into my father and the only way to re-distribute them is in his will. I'd literally have to wait for my father to die to do anything with this company."

"Mass, don't think like this. My father will find a way out."

"Alicia, your father wrote it and can't even figure out a way out. I'm really stuck in a hard place."

Massie and Alicia were taking the escalator down to the home section, when Massie's hot oat milk dirty chai latte leaked out of the lid and burnt her left hand. She cursed, handing the cup to Alicia and digging out a sanitizing wipe from her chanel flap purse to clean her hand off. The lighting in Bergdorf's made Massie's oval engagement ring shine and glisten, but it felt more like a weight than an expensive piece of jewelry every woman looks forward to wearing.

She sighed, crumpling the wipe in her hand and shaking her head. She didn't know what to do. Not that she was stuck between getting married or not - she was most definitely not marrying Tristan Montgomery. But, she was stuck. It's taking too long for her father and Mr. Rivera to find a way out, and she was growing more antsy by the day.

Massie, Dylan, Chris and Derrick had a plan in mind, but it would be a lot easier if her father could promise her she wouldn't lose any of her shares beforehand. Without that guarantee, this became a real life or death situation but the wedding would be approaching in a matter of four months and Tristan was getting concerned she didn't have a dress, a menu, a registry, or anything for that matter picked out.

So, Alicia and Massie were creating the registry today for the both of them. Tomorrow, Dylan and Chris were accompanying Massie to the caterer's private restaurant for a tasting. Derrick would be helping with the wine menu, which was Wednesday's plan, and thursday...Thursday was D-Day. Do or die, Vera Wang or Oscar de la Renta, Chiffon or Organza...the day Massie's been dreading since the beginning of this whole escapade.

"What do you think about the Christofle gold flatware?" Alicia's crisp voice took Massie out of her brain's inner monologue.

"Hm? Oh, yes, that's beautiful."

"You know, Dolce and Gabbana did an exclusive range that would be beautiful for the kitchen. What about it?"

"Most definite yes."

"Oh my god, Versace Medusa towels. Why couldn't I be the one getting married right now?!"

"You want to?"

"Don't try me, Mass. Kids items are way less exciting than new home decor."

"Look, Ronaldo, if we wanted a low budget chicken francaise we would've asked for it, okay?"

"I'm sorry, who are you again?"

"I'm one of the bridesmaids, and I will not stand for anything being served that is not organic, pesticide free, or cage free. Try again."

Ronaldo, a tall thin dark haired man with eyes as blue as the pacific ocean, nodded his head and bowed before running back to the kitchen. The group was currently sitting in a reserved table of his swanky five star restaurant, which was closed to the public for the tasting. Because Massie couldn't make any decisions, Chris and Dylan were to assist. But, sometimes Dylan lost her 'zen' when it came to tastings, and anything related to Massie's situation.

They still had absolutely no fucking idea what to do. They knew as a last resort, they'd have her just not walk down the aisle. But, Massie and her friends really wanted to stick it to Tristan, and a case of cold feet just wasn't enough.

Still, they had their backups. Dylan just craved a little drama, a little revenge for all the pain her best friend was put through. Her best friend, who was currently sitting in between Dylan and Chris, with a pout on her baby pink plush lips and a thick cable knit cardigan draped over her shoulders that looked like it swallowed her up.

"Dyl, relax," Chris warned her, stifling down a chuckle. He, Dylan, and Massie were sitting at the table the chef's staff prepared for their tasting today. Massie had decided she refused to make any decisions, and was handing the reins to Dylan because she, quote unquote, 'is too busy worrying about her future falling apart to give a shit between caviar and chilled lobster appetizers.'

"No! This is my best friend's wedding, and it's got to be perfect, Chris."

"Jesus, I can see that you're going to be a bridezilla of your own accord."

"I mean someone has to care, people! Massie, what do you think?"

"Whatever, whatever works."

"Mass."

"Sorry, I just...I can't make any decisions right now, but I trust your judgment Dyl, I really do."

"But you need to have feelings about this! Even if it's anger, you need to feel things."
"Dylan, if I told you how I'm feeling right now I'd end up in Westchester Psychiatric….hey, wait a minute, that isn't too bad of an idea."

"E-nough, Massie! We are going to get this figured out, but in the meantime, we need to stay on track with the schedule."

"Yes, yes, the schedule. I get it. Where's the chef with this dry aged ribeye?"

"I think we have more important things to discuss than a ribeye, Massie. But, where the fuck is Ronaldo?"

"Dyl, breathe." Chris replied to her, leaning over Massie and squeezing Dylan's thin hand. "I know you're just as worked up as we all are, but right now, don't ruin this dude's day by being in a bitchy mood."

"You're right, you're right. I'm just starving, and this paleo diet is not working for me. You're right, I need to zen out for a sec. I'll be back."

Dylan excused herself from the table, taking her ferragamo black leather studded purse and heading outside to the cold January air. She needed a minute to realign her chakras, and she knew Massie and Chris had to go over some things as well. If it came down to Chris legally marrying Massie to get this thing over, Dylan wouldn't oppose, but a part of this situation made her upset which was why she was getting so aggressive. She didn't want to acknowledge it. But, inside, Dylan sat there telling herself that it took Chris all of two weeks to decide he'd marry Massie to help her, yet he and Dylan have been together four years and there's been no mention of a nuptial. She knew she was overanalyzing, but it still stung her the right way. But, Dylan knew this wasn't the time, it wasn't about her or Chris or anyone else but Massie Block.