The gala was supposed to be perfect — Charlotte King had spent weeks making sure every last thing at St. Ambrose and Oceanside Wellness’s charity event screamed sophisticated success. And yet… an hour before it began, Addison Montgomery was pacing around her beach house, phone in hand, red hair half-curled, makeup smudged, wearing only a robe and an expression that could kill.

“—What do you mean she canceled?!” Addison’s voice echoed through the living room, sharp and incredulous. “No, I don’t care if her cat’s in labor, she was supposed to do my makeup tonight!”

You stood in the doorway, a mug of coffee in your hand, watching her spiral. “Her cat’s in labor?” you repeated, half-laughing.

Addison hung up dramatically, tossed her phone onto the couch, and let out a groan. “Yes! Apparently she’s a midwife for felines now. I have an hour before Charlotte’s black-tie circus starts, and I look like—” she gestured helplessly at herself, “—someone who just lost a fight with her curling iron.”

You bit your lip to stop from smiling. “You kind of do,” you teased softly.

She gave you a death glare. “You’re not helping.”

“Actually,” you said, setting your mug down, “I can help. Sit down.”

Addison blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Sit,” you repeated, pulling her toward a bar stool at her kitchen bench. “I used to do hair and makeup for theatre in high-school. I got this.”

Addison crossed her arms. “You… used to do hair?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to look amazing for the gala, or do you want to keep arguing with me until Charlotte calls wondering why you’re late?”

She sighed dramatically but sat down, glancing at you in the small mirror plugged in and set up on the counter. “Fine. But if I look like a Real Housewife by the end of this—”

“Then you’ll fit right in,” you said with a smirk.

She swatted lightly at your arm, but a smile crept in anyway.

As you worked — brushing through her red hair, fixing her eyeliner, blending foundation under her cheekbones — the tension slowly melted. Addison relaxed into your touch, watching your reflection quietly.

“You’re surprisingly good at this, I’ve lived with you for what three months now and i didn’t know.” she murmured after a while.

“I told you I was,” you said softly, your fingers brushing along her jaw as you blended blush. “Maybe you should just hire me full-time.”

She smirked. “Oh, right. My personal glam squad. I’ll pay you in overpriced wine and medical gossip.”

“Tempting,” you chuckled, reaching for her lipstick. “Now, stop talking or you’ll ruin your lip line.”

Addison held still, watching your focused expression in the mirror — a faint warmth in her eyes that wasn’t just from the reflection of the lamp. When you finally stepped back, you gave a satisfied nod.

“There. You look incredible.”

Addison turned her head side to side, inspecting herself, then slowly smiled. “Okay, I’ll admit it — I look good. You’re hired.”

You grinned, leaning against the counter. “Told you.”

Her phone buzzed — Charlotte’s name lighting up the screen. Addison sighed and picked it up, rolling her eyes before answering.

“Charlotte, yes, I’m on my way… No, I’m not late. I had a… minor crisis. But it’s handled.”

She hung up, grabbed her clutch, and looked at you again. “You’re coming, right?”