Love in Lace

“So what would you like to do today?” Charlie starts, leaning against the kitchen counter, the tea in her hand long forgotten as it cools. “We can go to the store, find some clothes and stuff for you. I didn’t know your size, so I haven’t gotten you too much yet. We can get some snacks you like—maybe art supplies? Do you like art? If not, that’s fine. What do you like? We can get you whatever. Do you like sports? We could sign you up for a league or something if you’d like—”

Charlie’s voice trails off when she realizes that Lacey is just staring at her. Not with amusement, not even with irritation. Just a flat, unreadable expression, as if she’s listening to a toddler trying to explain quantum physics.

“What are you talking about?” Lacey interrupts coolly.

Charlie stops in her tracks, blinking. “Oh, sorry. Got carried away. What would you like to do today?”

Lacey’s expression doesn’t change, but she shifts her weight slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Again, what are you talking about? Why would you ask me what to do?”

Charlie furrows her brows. “Because… I’m asking you… what you want… to do… today?”

Lacey rolls her eyes. “Omegas don’t want things, idiot. That’s your job.”

Charlie’s fingers tighten around her mug, jaw locking in frustration. She’s dealt with the scars SGPS leaves before—the fear, the confusion, the detachment. But this? This was different. Lacey wasn’t just conditioned to obey; she believed in it. She genuinely thought she wasn’t supposed to have opinions or desires of her own.

Charlie exhales slowly, keeping her voice measured. “Okay then, if your Alpha was supposed to help you find things you like, what would they do?”

Lacey lifts her chin slightly, regarding Charlie with a critical eye, like she’s assessing whether this is some sort of trap. Then, with a sigh, she rolls her shoulders back and says, “I need new clothes. Everything I own is last season. My wardrobe is tragic.”

Charlie blinks, taken aback by the shift. “Alright. Clothes shopping it is.”

Lacey brightens—actually brightens—for the first time since stepping foot in Charlie’s apartment. “Finally, something useful out of you.” She flounces toward the bedroom, already making a mental checklist. “I need coats, shoes, accessories—ugh, I don’t even have a good winter bag right now. This is an emergency.”

Charlie snorts. “An emergency?”

“Yes.” Lacey turns, placing a hand on her hip. “I refuse to look like I belong here. No offense, but I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve never shopped anywhere better than, like, a department store.”

Charlie squints. “What’s wrong with department stores?”

Lacey gags. “Everything.”

Charlie huffs but chooses to ignore that. “Alright, so you want a whole new wardrobe?”

“Yes.” Lacey nods sharply. “And makeup. Obviously.”

Charlie stares at her for a moment, then sighs. “This is going to be a lot of money, isn’t it?”

Lacey smirks. “I guess there’s one good thing about you, you’re a lawyer.”

Charlie snorts, shaking her head. “I’m a lawyer in massive debt, you know.”

Lacey waves a dismissive hand. “So? You’re still making more money than most people.”

Charlie scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, totally, except I’m drowning in student loans and legal fees. The high life.”

Lacey shrugs as if that’s Charlie’s problem, not hers. “At least you’re getting paid by SGPS for this whole thing. They’re literally giving you money for taking care of me.”

Charlie frowns. “No, they’re—” She pauses, blinking as a thought suddenly occurs to her. Wait a second.

Lacey raises a perfectly plucked brow. “Oh my God, tell me you haven’t even checked your bank account without telling me you haven’t haven’t even checked your bank account.”

Charlie doesn’t answer. She just grabs her phone, pulling up her banking app as Lacey watches her with barely contained amusement.

When the numbers load, Charlie stares.

$5,143.

What the hell?

She swore she only had $143 in her account last night.

Lacey sighs dramatically, leaning against the counter. “Wow. You’re actually incompetent.”

Charlie glares at her. “Excuse me for not assuming the government would just dump thousands of dollars into my account without warning.”

“That’s literally how this system works,” Lacey says, unimpressed. “Omegas get assigned, Alphas get paid. You really didn’t know?”

Charlie runs a hand down her face, exhaling. “I hate this system.”

“Yeah, well, it benefits you right now, so quit whining and take me to the mall.”

Charlie stares at her for a moment, then shakes her head. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Lacey smirks. “Finally. Took you long enough.”

Charlie mutters something under her breath, but she still moves toward the bedroom to get dressed. If she’s about to spend the day being dragged through designer boutiques and overpriced makeup counters, she’s at least going to be comfortable.

She hears Lacey huff behind her. “You are dressing properly for this, right? If you show up in those hideous overalls, I will pretend not to know you.”

Charlie turns just enough to glare at her. “I should leave you here.”

“But you won’t,” Lacey singsongs mockingly. “Because you’re such a good Alpha.”

Charlie huffs, shaking her head as she shuts the bedroom door behind her. This was going to be a long day.

⁃ + -

The mall is packed, but Lacey doesn’t seem to notice—or care. She walks with the confidence of someone who owns everything around her, her head held high, posture effortlessly poised.

She looks expensive.

Charlie knew Lacey had insisted on putting together a “decent” outfit for their shopping trip, but she wasn’t expecting this. The Omega looks like she stepped straight out of a Vogue editorial—wearing a fitted white turtleneck tucked into high-waisted camel-colored wool trousers, cinched at the waist with a thin Louis Vuitton belt. A long, structured coat in a shade just a hint darker than her pants drapes over her shoulders, and designer ankle boots add a few more inches to her already impressive height. Her blonde hair is styled into perfect waves, her makeup pristine—flawless foundation, sculpted cheekbones, the right amount of gloss on her lips to make them look irresistibly full.

Charlie, by contrast, had opted for something practical. She wasn’t about to let Lacey completely rip apart her sense of style, but she at least tried to look put-together—dark brown slacks, fitted at the waist and tapered just enough to be clean-cut without being overly polished, paired with a deep green button-up tucked neatly in. Over it, she threw on a sturdy, oversized wool coat, its earthy tones blending well with her aesthetic. Her curls were slightly more contained today, and she had some mascara and concealer on, but that was about it. She wasn’t here to impress anyone.

Not like Lacey, who was already yapping her ear off as they entered the first store.

“Okay, so obviously, we have to start with basics, but I refuse to wear whatever cheap department store nonsense you would’ve picked out.” Lacey flips her hair over her shoulder as they step into an upscale boutique, where everything looks too polished and too expensive. “I need quality pieces, things that will last, things that actually matter—”

Charlie tunes most of it out, already exhausted.

Lacey strides inside like she owns the goddamn place, her sharp heels clicking against the marble floor. A store attendant, a Beta woman with sleek black hair and a welcoming smile, approaches immediately.

“Welcome to Maison Lux! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

Lacey barely spares her a glance, already perusing the nearby racks. “Yes, I need a full wardrobe refresh. Show me what’s trending this season—but,” she turns, narrowing her eyes at the woman, “nothing tacky.”

The Beta doesn’t even falter, smiling politely. “Of course, ma’am. Right this way.”

Charlie watches, slightly impressed at how fast Lacey manages to take control of the situation.

She also watches as Lacey immediately starts plucking clothes off racks, handing them to Charlie without a second thought.

“Here, hold this. And this.” Another hanger lands in Charlie’s arms. “Ooh, and definitely this—”

Charlie grumbles but takes them, her arms quickly filling up as Lacey sweeps through the boutique like a hurricane, letting the attendant dote on her with suggestions and compliments.

“This silk blouse would pair beautifully with these trousers,” the attendant offers, draping the outfit over her arm.

Lacey hums, considering. “Mm. Fine. Add it to the pile.”

Charlie shifts the ever-growing pile in her arms, sighing. “You do know I’m not your assistant, right?”

Lacey gives her a once-over. “Then act like my Alpha and carry my things.”

Charlie glares at her, but Lacey is already moving toward the dressing rooms, clearly satisfied with her selections.

⁃ + -

Charlie has never been so bored in her life.

Lacey has been trying on outfits for what feels like hours, occasionally stepping out to model them with a critical eye. Each time, she turns this way and that in front of the mirror, inspecting herself like a sculptor appraising their masterpiece.

And Charlie has to admit—Lacey is kind of a masterpiece.

Even against her will, she can’t deny it.

The Omega is practically built like a model—long, toned legs, an hourglass figure that’s somehow still delicate, a ridiculously beautiful face that could make someone go bankrupt just trying to impress her. The latest outfit she steps out in—a fitted black dress that hugs every curve—does nothing to help Charlie’s situation.

Charlie’s gaze lingers for a second too long, trailing down from Lacey’s exposed collarbone to the way the fabric cinches perfectly at her waist, then lower—

And then—

Charlie immediately looks away, clenching her jaw as heat prickles at the back of her neck.

Lacey, oblivious to Charlie’s internal crisis, frowns at her own reflection, smoothing a hand down the dress before turning to Charlie expectantly. “Well?”

Charlie clears her throat. “Looks good.”

Lacey’s frown deepens. “That’s it?”

Charlie huffs. “What do you want me to say?”

Lacey throws her arms up. “I don’t know—something useful? Some actual input?”

Charlie gestures vaguely. “I just said it looks good.”

Lacey glares. “You’re useless.”

Charlie glares back. “Because I don’t know what ‘good input’ you’re looking for?”

Lacey huffs, placing a hand on her hip. “A real Alpha would know exactly what to say.”

Charlie exhales sharply, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not one of those meathead Alphas who automatically drools over everything an Omega puts on.”

Lacey gasps, clutching her chest in mock offense. “Are you saying I’m not drool-worthy?”

Charlie levels her with a look. “You know you are. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

Lacey smirks, clearly pleased. “True.”

Charlie sighs. “So are you getting the dress or not?”

Lacey twirls slightly, admiring herself in the mirror one last time before nodding. “Obviously.”

Charlie shakes her head, exasperated. “Of course.”

This was indeed turning out to be a long day.

⁃ + -

By the time they leave the mall, Charlie is loaded down with bags.

Lacey, of course, carries nothing but a brand-new designer purse, her hands blissfully free while Charlie struggles under the sheer weight of their shopping spree.

“You know you could carry at least one of these,” Charlie grumbles as she unlocks the car.

Lacey blinks at her, genuinely baffled. “Why would I? That’s your job.”

Charlie rolls her eyes, hauling the bags into the backseat with a grunt. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer high-maintenance,” Lacey corrects, adjusting the strap of her new Yves Saint Laurent handbag. “There’s a difference.”

Charlie doesn’t bother responding, too busy making sure nothing gets crushed as she shoves the last of the bags into the car. She exhales heavily, rubbing a hand down her face before finally sliding into the driver’s seat.

Lacey, perfectly composed despite the hours of shopping, sits primly beside her, flipping through her phone like she didn’t just single-handedly stimulate the economy.

Charlie pulls out of the parking lot, letting a few moments of silence settle between them before speaking.

“So,” she starts, keeping her voice casual. “Do you want an actual hobby besides… beauty?”

Lacey barely spares her a glance before scoffing. “Of course you wouldn’t consider upkeeping one’s appearance as a hobby.”

Charlie sighs. “I’m not saying it’s not important, but I mean, is there anything else you like doing? Something that doesn’t involve shopping or skincare?”

Lacey makes a put-upon noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Why do you care?”

Charlie groans, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. “Just indulge me, Lacey. Humor me for one second.”

Lacey purses her lips, looking over at Charlie with a mix of suspicion and mild amusement. She stays silent for a moment, tapping a manicured nail against her phone screen as she considers it.

Then, finally—

“I like plants,” she says, her tone almost challenging, like she expects Charlie to laugh.

Charlie nearly swerves into the next lane. “What?”

Lacey narrows her eyes. “What, what?”

Charlie glances at her, then back at the road, processing. “You—like plants?”

“Yes, obviously,” Lacey huffs, crossing her arms. “What, do I not look like someone who enjoys plants?”

Charlie blinks, still a little stunned. “Honestly? No. I expected you to say something like, I don’t know, fashion photography or yacht parties.”

Lacey glares. “I hate yacht parties. They’re so tacky.”

Charlie bites back a grin. “But plants are fine?”

Lacey lifts her chin. “Plants are refined. They require patience, attention, and proper care. And unlike people, they don’t talk back.”

Charlie snorts, shaking her head. “Huh. Well, alright then.”

Lacey eyes her warily. “Alright then, what?”

Charlie shrugs, already flipping her turn signal on. “Guess we’re going to a gardening store.”

Lacey sits up straighter, her eyes flickering with interest before she tamps it down with practiced indifference. “We are?”

Charlie nods. “Yeah. You need a hobby, and you actually seem to care about this one. Might as well get you what you need to start growing things here.”

Lacey stays silent for a moment, watching Charlie carefully. Then, after a beat—

“Well,” she sniffs, adjusting the strap of her purse. “It’s about time you did something right.”

Charlie laughs, shaking her head as she takes the next exit. “You’re unbelievable.”

Lacey smirks, crossing her legs. “And yet, you keep indulging me.”

Charlie sighs, exasperated, but doesn’t deny it.

⁃ + -

The shift in atmosphere is hilarious.

One hour ago, Lacey was commanding an upscale boutique like a queen holding court. Now? She’s standing in the middle of a gardening section, surrounded by shelves of soil, fertilizer, and plant pots, actually paying attention.

Charlie watches with a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity as Lacey inspects a set of ceramic planters, her fingers grazing the rims delicately.

“So,” Charlie starts, leaning against the cart. “What are we getting?”

Lacey hums, scanning the shelves with a sharp eye. “Something low-maintenance but elegant. I don’t have time for anything fussy.”

Charlie raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have time?”

Lacey ignores her, moving toward the succulents and small potted herbs. She picks up a sleek white planter, turning it over in her hands. “This will work.”

Charlie smirks. “So you do like this.”

Lacey rolls her eyes. “Obviously. Unlike you, I actually have taste.”

Charlie snorts. “Yeah, yeah. Just pick your plants, princess.”

Lacey does.

And as Charlie watches her carefully select different pots, inspecting leaves with an actual interest that isn’t just for show, she thinks—

Maybe this isn’t so bad.