Two days later, I finally caught a break. The kind of break where I wasn't sprinting between fittings like my shoes were on fire or fixing a gown someone's dog decided to use as a chew toy. It was a rare celestial event: free time.
And naturally, instead of taking a nap like a sane person, I decided to head to Tony's tower. Call it a professional courtesy or a momentary lapse in judgment. Either way, I was curious to see what the infamous Mr. Stark needed help with.
I dressed casually. Well, my version of casual. A red fitted shirt, black leather jacket, matching jeans, and red heels with a bold red lip completing the look. I was applying it in the backseat of the car when CJ gave me a look.
"What?" I asked, focusing on the small mirror in my hand, carefully tracing the curve of my lips.
He raised a brow. "For someone who's just helping a friend, you sure look like you're walking into a photoshoot."
I rolled my eyes. "As if I'm not always dressed like this."
"Touche." He smirked, then shook his head like a disapproving dad. "You sure you're not trying to impress anyone in particular?"
I snapped my lipstick shut and smiled. "Absolutely. This is purely professional vanity."
When we arrived at the tower, I made my way inside and immediately spotted Pepper in the lobby. Her expression lit up like she'd just spotted a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.
"Y/N! Oh thank God," she said, placing a hand over her heart like she'd been rescued.
I tilted my head. "You okay there, Pep? You sound like someone just offered you caffeine after a three-day cleanse."
She laughed. "Tony said he might need your help with something."
"Did he actually say those words? That he needs my help?" I asked, raising a brow.
She snorted. "Absolutely not."
"Yeah, figured," I said as we headed to the elevator. "So who else is up there? Should I brace for impact?"
"There are a few people around," she said casually. "We weren't sure when you'd be free, so Tony didn't exactly roll out the red carpet."
"Oh, how will I survive without the dramatic welcome?" I said dryly.
As we stepped onto the top floor, the muffled sound of conversation quickly grew louder.
"Hey, look who's here," Pepper announced, gesturing toward the room.
I glanced around. Rhodey was perched on the arm of a chair, Tony was leaning against a table doing absolutely nothing productive, and then there were two others. One was a familiar looking guy, quietly working on something near the corner. The other?
"You're Captain America," I said before I could stop myself.
He stood up a little straighter. "Please, call me Steve. And you are?"
I opened my mouth, paused, then squinted. "Wait. You don't know who I am?"
He looked confused. "Should I?"
"Oh wow, that came out so much worse than I meant it to," I said, holding up a hand in mock surrender. "Sorry. I'm Y/N L/N."
Tony piped up without missing a beat. "She's a fashion designer. So unless you've been strutting the runway between missions, I'm not shocked."
Steve shot him a pointed look, then turned back to me politely. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."
My eyes drifted to the quiet man in the corner. "That's Bruce, right? The green guy?"
Bruce looked up with a faint smile. "That's me. The other guy's on vacation."
"Nice to meet you too, Bruce. You're much less green than expected."
Tony walked over. "So what did you dress up so nicely for, Y/N? The chance to be in my presence or the thrill of being in my presence?"
"Wow, your ego is suffocating," I deadpanned. "Now tell me what disaster needs fixing this time, Stark."
"Okay, hold on. Why do they all get first-name treatment? Bruce, Steve, Pepper, Rhodey, and I get Stark?"
I smirked. "Because they're tolerable."
Bruce chuckled from his seat. "Seems like you've finally met your match, Tony."
My stomach did a weird flip, but I ignored it. Tony and I turned to Bruce in perfect unison, brows raised.
"You should see them flirt," Rhodey added. "It's like watching two cats fight over the same bowl of food."
Steve nodded, then started, "So are you guys like...?"
"No."
"No."
Tony and I answered at the same time.
I crossed my arms. "I'd rather hang myself, truly."
Tony clutched his chest dramatically. "I'm wounded. You kiss your couture with that mouth?"
The room burst into laughter, and despite my best efforts, I let out a smile.
"Alright, alright," Tony said, raising his hands. "We actually do need your help. Fury's throwing some rooftop party, and apparently, we need to 'blend in with the civilians' for a mission."
"With style," Pepper added.
"So... a makeover?" I asked, one brow lifted.
"Clothes. You're designing for the team," Tony replied. "Seven outfits. Eight if you include Pepper. Which you should."
I nodded. "Alright. Just one tiny issue, you still haven't paid me for the gala, the spidey suit, or, you know, putting up with you in general."
"Wait, you designed that?" Bruce said, looking impressed, to which I nodded, slightly bowing down with a smirk.
Tony reached into a drawer and whipped out a checkbook like he'd been expecting this moment all his life. He scribbled something down, then approached me with a cocky grin. He held the check between two fingers and kissed it before handing it to me.
I looked at the number and almost dropped it. "A million? This is a joke, right? You're not supposed to pay me even half of this."
He shrugged. "Think of it as hazard pay. You're working with me."
I stepped toward him and tried to shove it back into his hand. "Tony, come on. This is ridiculous."
He stepped away, waving me off. "Keep it, sweetheart. Oh, and you're coming to the party."
"What? No. I have work."
"Take a day off. You deserve one."
I looked at him for a long moment. He smiled like he hadn't just casually thrown a million-dollar check at me and demanded my presence like it was a calendar invite.
From behind, Steve whispered to Bruce, "They're totally flirting."
"I would say it's subtle, but it's not," Bruce replied.
Rhodey reached for a bowl of popcorn on the table and sighed. "It's like live theater in here. Someone pass the wine."