Ella
It took me just about the entire week to recover and get ready for the party on Friday. My mind has been a whirlwind, juggling work and this event, but I finally feel settled, standing here in my foyer, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
The soft purr of the Rolls Royce pulls up to my front door, and it feels like an official start to the night I've been dreading—and oddly, looking forward to.
As I slide into the back seat, Jacob sits next to me. He looks sharp tonight, his usual casual demeanor smoothed over with a well-tailored suit. But there's something else in his expression—nervousness, maybe? He's not used to this kind of scene, and it shows in the way he's glancing out the window, fiddling with his cufflinks. I reach over and place my hand on his knee, offering a reassuring squeeze.
"Just follow my lead, okay?" I whisper.