Orson has schooled me in what to expect at his grandfather’s gala, and from what he’s said, it’s a pretty big deal. So big, in fact, that my fake husband gave me his credit card and a list of boutiques to visit to buy an appropriate dress.
It’s being held at their family estate, and we’re being driven there in a limo. While I’m excited about the limo, given that I’ve never been in one, the idea of the rest of the evening terrifies me.
I slip into my silver high-heeled sandals and give myself a final glance in the mirror. My dress is a deep red high-low. It’s off-the-shoulder with delicate sleeves. The bodice is decorated with sparkling beads and sequins, while the skirt, which grazes the floor at the back and is high cut at the front, is made of multi-layer tulle with a satin lining. A beautiful pair of drop pearl earrings really sets it off.
This afternoon, I was sent to the salon, where my nails were buffed and polished; my luscious locks are now slightly curled and bouncing. The cost of everything was ludicrous, but I do look like a million bucks.
Tentatively, I walk into the open plan living area. Orson has his back to me, but I’m still stunned as I catch sight of his broad shape in a very well-fitting black suit.
He turns at the sound of my clacking heels, and I have to swallow a gasp. He looks stunning in his full tuxedo with a bow tie. It also highlights his muscular frame, which sends my stomach flipping. I know he wears suits all the time, but this one has my pulse racing.
It appears he’s pretty taken with my outfit, too, given he’s gawking at me in some speechless trance.
“Well, will I do?”
Orson clears his throat and seems to gather himself, which makes me want to laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so unnerved, and he’s never speechless.
“That is the understatement of the week, Lily,” he says, his voice sounding far deeper than usual. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” I frown then and continue, “Will it be enough to fool your grandfather?”
He takes several steps across the room and then looks down at me with this strange intensity in his eyes. “You don’t need to fool anyone, Lily. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
There’s something in the way he says it that takes my breath away, and now, it’s me who’s left speechless.
“We should get going,” he says, breaking the moment. “I’ll get the bags.”
Two hours later, the limousine pulls in through two huge iron gates, and my eyes fly wide as I gaze ahead of me.
“Holy cow,” I breathe.
Glancing back at Orson, I see him smiling at me.
“This is where your grandfather lives?”
Orson has mentioned the estate a few times, and I know his family is super wealthy, but nothing could have prepared me for what I’m seeing. The grounds go on for as far as the eye can see, and right in front of us sits a humongous mansion that looks more like a castle.
At least three stories high, it’s as wide as a city block, only it’s not in any way modern. It looks like something out of Downton Abbey.
“Welcome to Arlington House,” Orson says.
I’m about to ask if his parents will be here when the car pulls to a halt and the car door opens. A man in a suit offers his gloved hand and assists me out of the limo.
“Thank you,” I say. He nods in return.
Orson links my arm in his and seems to immediately feel my tension.
“Relax, Lily. Everything’s going to be fine.”
But I can’t relax. I’m wearing clothes I’ll never wear again after being driven in a limo to a mansion that looks like it belongs in a movie. And we haven’t even gone inside yet.
“This is the grand ballroom,” Orson says when we enter a huge room decorated in a Victorian style.
Having walked through the entrance and corridors, my eyes can’t get any wider. I see sweeping drapes, murals on the walls, and above us, three massive crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the attendees.
We’re standing amidst this sea of sophistication, and I feel completely out of my depth. In fact, if Orson wasn’t holding onto me, I think I’d drown. As well as that, my stomach feels like there’s a bunch of monkeys in there doing acrobatics, which is not helping.
After a delicious three-course dinner, the room quiets, and the presentation ceremony begins. Orson keeps whispering in my ear, telling me who they are and what they’ve achieved, and while I’m trying to look interested, I’m far more affected by his lips nearly brushing my jawline. The monkeys are now on steroids.