For the first time in a long time, Rhys was almost giddy with excitement. His hands wrapped around the small envelope in his hands, twisting it again and again as he watched the clock on his screen. 7:54, one minute until Feyre normally walked in the door. One moment before she would come up the elevator, walk to her desk, lock her purse in her drawer, and then go to the coffee maker. And once she had her coffee, if he could contain himself that long, he would go and give her the gift he held in his hand.
He had taken her to the art museum three times in as many days over the weekend and they had barely scratched the surface of what the museum held. He had walked the entire museum probably a hundred times, glancing at paintings and noting which ones were which, but never had he witnessed someone study the paintings with the fervor that Feyre seemed to have for them. He had watched her for hours as she studied brush strokes, color combinations, and styles. When she finally had asked what his favorite work of art in the museum was, he had had to lie. It had once been a painting done of the night sky with swirling galaxies that took up one whole wall on its own, but now he was absolutely certain it was Feyre and the way she bit her lip and tucked loose hairs behind her slightly pointed ear while she leaned almost too close to the valuable paintings.
They had gone Friday as he had promised her and had stayed until the museum had closed. They had gone back Saturday after he had made a point to check in with her after her father's burial. She had gone alone despite his assurances he would indeed go with her. And when she hadn't seen nearly enough by the end of Saturday he had brought her back on Sunday.
"Good morning," Feyre chimed at him as she breezed in. For the first time at work, he saw her smiling openly and not because she was taunting Cassian or calling him a prick. His whole world seemed to stop for that smile and he promptly forgot he had intended to wait for her to settle in before approaching her.
"Good morning, Feyre Darling," he purred as he came to perch against her desk. "Someone is in an excellent mood this morning."
"Oh, and who would that be?" She teased as she went to get her coffee.
"It might be me," he smirked at her. "If you accept this, that is," he held out the envelope in his hand.
Feyre abandoned the coffee maker and came to take the envelope with a skeptical look. She read the front of it, which was addressed to him and a guest, then she opened it and her eyes slowly scanned over the more formal writing. It would take her a few moments to decipher what he had found waiting for him on Saturday at his house and what he had spent all Sunday agonizing over.
"A gallery opening?" She asked finally.
"A big one for one of the hot shot painters in the area," he admitted. "All of Prythian's elite are being invited, hence why the invitation is in my name." He paused for a moment and braced himself. "I need a date, and I'd like you to come with me."
"Me?" She squeaked looking up at him.
"You can tell me no. I do understand your worries," he tried to assure her but he was cut off as she launched herself at him. His arms closed around her before he even registered that she was hugging him.
"What do I even wear to such a thing?" She asked, her voice breathless.
"If you don't mind, I may have Mor bring you something to wear. She knows these events best as she usually goes in my place," he admitted. "Men it's easy. A nice suit or tux and you're set but with women…" he shuddered. Women were judged viciously on their clothing at such events. "Do you mind?"
"No. Mor won't steer me wrong," she squeezed him tighter. "This is a close first for the best thing to happen this morning," she murmured against him.
"A close first?!" He demanded. "What else has happened?"
Feyre pushed back from him just enough to look him in the face, the mischief in her eyes sparkling. "Azriel may have admitted that Cassian is terrified of scary movies. And he may have mentioned that despite that, Cassian watches them and is absolutely haunted by the one with that monster Bryaxis. And Azriel may have helped me rig up the elevator before I came up so I can push a button on my phone after I stop the elevator and this stuffed Bryaxis might, possibly, fly out of the top of the elevator at him while he's trapped inside."
Rhys felt his eyebrows reach his hairline. It was positively devilish of her, but Cauldron help him, he wanted to see the footage of what Cassian might do. His latest prank on Feyre had been to find her dating profile and send her pictures of grotesque naked men and women. Azriel had been called in to help Feyre get rid of the spammed images that didn't seem to stop which was likely why he had been so quick to help Feyre on this particular stunt.
"Come get me when it happens," Rhys begged her. "I need to see it."
"Certainly. He even fixed the elevator a little more so I can now hear conversations in the elevator if I wish," she pulled up the feed and pointed to where it was muted. "I hope he screams."
"I hope he doesn't damage the elevator too much," Rhys laughed. "I can't wait." He moved to press a kiss to her cheek. "For this prank, or for this Saturday so I can take you out properly."
Feyre turned her eyes from her screen to look at him then, her blue gray eyes wide. "So this is a real date?" She asked. "Not just a take your personal assistant to an event sort of thing?"
He watched her for a moment while his mind processed every bad thing that could happen if he told her the truth. A real date, he wanted it to be a real date. He wanted to take her to dinner beforehand and have her on his arm all night. He wanted to take her home at the end of the night and walk her to her door and kiss her good night. But if he told her that, she could balk. She could run away for him being too much like Tamlin. But he couldn't lie to her. He couldn't leave her thinking he only wanted to take her because she was a woman and he needed a quick escort.
"I'd like it to be a real date, Feyre," he admitted softly. "I'd like to take you to dinner before at a nice restaurant and show off the most beautiful woman at the gallery opening." He meant to say more but Feyre stopped him.
"This isn't just to get in my pants? I won't go home with you after the gallery opening. And you can't just take me in your office for a quick one," she warned.
"It was not my intention to take you back to my place or to assault you at work. You're a beautiful person, Feyre Darling, and I like spending time with you. I want this to be a date. I promise this is not some scheme to get you in bed… or not a bed." He winked at her and she promptly slapped his shoulder.
"Fine," she sighed. "But this is a trial date. I reserve the right to tell you to fuck off and we go right back to being Mr. Nox and personal assistant."
"Well, I prefer Prick and Feyre Darling, but I suppose if I need to start from the beginning again, I can handle it," he smirked when she slapped his shoulder again. "I promise you'll enjoy yourself. Now, feel free to interrupt anything so I can see this marvelous prank of yours."
"I will," she promised. "And Rhys?" He paused at his door to look back at her and the bright smile on her face. "Thank you for this. I hope you don't regret bringing me."
"I could never regret bringing you to see more art," he promised her and earned an even more radiant smile. He locked himself in his office then, using the glass wall as a deterrent from pouncing on her right then and there to kiss those smiling lips.
Mor arrived in his office an hour later and gave him a strange look as she sat in the chair across from him. "Why does Feyre look like a cat about to eat a canary?"
"She discovered Cassian's paralyzing fear of Bryaxis," Rhys admitted. "And may possibly make him damage my elevator as soon as he tries to come up here."
"I have to see this," Mor begged. "Someone has to get that bastard good for everything he's done to us over the years. Wait, does Az know about this? Should I call him up here?"
"Az helped her set this up. And I will personally call him to come upstairs to hasten this along so you can watch with us, and send you a copy of the video, if you do me a favor," Rhys locked eyes with his cousin. Her warm brown eyes narrowed on his.
"Is it something illegal?" She questioned.
"Not necessarily illegal but possibly frowned upon by my head of human resources," Rhys admitted.
"A shame," Mor sighed. "I could use some illegal fun," she let out another very exaggerated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright, what won't I approve of."
"I need you to take a gown to Feyre on Saturday morning and pretend you went shopping for it." He waited for Mor to process the whole thing before her eyes narrowed further.
"Where are you taking her?"
"A high profile, art gallery opening… as my date." Rhys expected Mor to attack him. He expected strong words about dating an employee or traumatizing Feyre further after what she had gone through with Tamlin. He expected anything except her smiling as much as Feyre about to pull her prank.
"She's good for you," Mor stood and rounded his desk to embrace him. "You deserve someone who makes you happy, Rhys, even if it's your personal assistant and I should frown upon it."
Rhys smiled back at her. Mor would know his dating history. She knew all about Amarantha and about each girl he had momentarily had interest in after. But Feyre was different from those girls. He had made sure he had the control with them. Had had extensive background checks done on all of them and none of them had truly lasted more than a date or two before he had tired of them. But they were few and far between. He couldn't see himself wanting to let Feyre go after one date, or two, or ten. In fact, he couldn't envision what his future would be like without her in it.
"So you must already have a dress in mind," Mor pressed as she returned to her seat.
"I do. A special one that I think would be perfect on her and her alone," Rhys gave a slight nod out to the lobby where Feyre sat. "Well, I think I can call Cassian up here for a meeting."
"Wait, let me text Az. He should be up here to see his handiwork," Mor pulled out her phone and started typing. A moment later her phone chimed back. "He said, go ahead and call, he will watch from his monitors."
"I expect nothing less," Rhys chuckled and then picked up his phone. "We're having an impromptu meeting upstairs. How soon can I expect you up here? Five minutes, alright, we will wait." He hung up the phone and went to alert Feyre that Cassian was about to walk into his nightmare.
The next few minutes were agonizing as Feyre sat poised at her desk watching the monitor, waiting for Cassian to enter the elevator. She had unmuted the monitor to make sure they captured any noise made. Then Cassian entered the elevator and swiped his ID, crossing his fingers as he tended to do whenever he got on now, likely praying for his card to work. Feyre allowed the elevator to set in motion.
"Let's wait until he's just about to the top," Rhys whispered and Feyre nodded.
They watched the numbers on the screen and between the floor below them and the executive floor, Feyre stopped the elevator and shut down the lights for a moment. They heard Cassian curse and then Feyre turned the lights back on just as the stuffed Bryaxis fell from the ceiling and began swinging around. It took all of a moment before the unearthly, high pitched scream, echoed not only through the monitor but from the elevator shaft. The monitor showed Cassian clawing at the doors, at the walls, at anything to get away from that dark mass that swung above him. After a few terrorizing moments, Feyre set the elevator in motion once more.
The doors opened and Cassian tumbled into the lobby, his olive skin pale, shaking, and his hazel eyes so wide that the whites were completely visible.
"Everything alright?" Rhys asked, his mask firmly in place.
Cassian's eyes shot to them all surrounding the monitor, then his eyes narrowed on them. "You're all dead to me," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Whatever did we do?" Mor asked, feigning innocence far too well.
"You were watching that whole thing! You did it!" Cassian bellowed, jumping up to face them.
"We were in Rhys' office having a meeting when we heard this Cauldron-awful scream come from the elevator," Feyre told him, her face completely straight. "We only just turned on the monitor when you stumbled out. What happened?"
Rhys almost lost it then and there as Cassian stared at them all. As he seemed to start questioning if he was indeed right about them being involved.
"I will find out which of you is involved. Someone will pay," he murmured.
"Such threats to your coworkers and boss," Rhys clucked his tongue. "Perhaps I'd rather speak with your second in command while you go change your pants."
Cassian's eyes went down the front of his body in horror, but there was no wet stain there as Rhys had indicated. But that had been enough for Cassian. He made a rude gesture at all of them and stormed over to the stairwell.
"Don't you want to take the elevator?" Mor asked sweetly. He flipped them another rude gesture but said nothing else as he disappeared into the stairwell.
"I doubt he will be taking the elevator anytime soon," Rhys laughed. "I hope Azriel has that all recorded."
"I'm sure he did," Feyre stood and went to the elevator to retrieve the stuffed Bryaxis as it stopped swinging about. She brought it over and presented it to Rhys with a flourish. It was then that all of the laughter he had been tucking away burst out of him. After a moment Mor and Feyre joined him. Moments later a message appeared from Azriel with the entire video on all three of their phones. Nothing productive seemed to happen for the rest of the day.