Tamina

The warmth is hasty to envelope me, and I'm in awe even though this section is small, but the cute white desk to the left is what draws me away from the plants decorating the lobby. There's a double door closet behind the desk, and accompanying it is a young boy, late teens if I'm guessing right. His skin is fair, and his hair is like milky coffee, and his eyes aren't far off.

"Good evening, would you like to check in?" he asks, settling his hand on the surface of the desk.

Brandon is quick to hand over his jacket and my cardigan to the young man who logs it in under his last name and receives two tickets. He's swift in manoeuvring me so the next person can log in their items, but I'm able to say a rushed thank you before he hauls the next door open. The sight is one I'd never seen before other than on television; everyone is decorated in glimmering jewels similar to mine, and their dresses are just as bright or highly fashioned. On the other hand, I'm not going to be keeping these longer than for today.

Spying the doors scattered along the edges of the room apart from where the stage and the buffet table reside, my interest to wander takes over, but I know it's best to remain at Brandon's side. I'm sure they're most likely for the rest rooms or private halls or something, this building is huge after all.

"Where did you want to sit?" I query, scanning the tables occupying half of the room while the spacious gap is left bare between the spot and the stage for dancing. Banners swing across the corners of the room, and gentle music plays in the background like a whisper amongst the rowdy chatter of the guests.

"We'll have to sit with my family in the section designated for some of my employees, it's a custom order to sit with those of your group, love." He explains. "Don't worry about it, we'll be dancing, drinking, and eating soon enough."

My smile stretches at the thought of us being able to dance together, I'd been practicing and watching YouTube videos for extra measures. Even though his family are going to be next to us, I'm just thankful he'll be there as a podium of strength.

Along the way, Brandon shares a few nods to some of the people who are making way or temporarily leaving their seats to stretch their legs. When their eyes linger on me a little longer than I'm comfortable with, my body shuffles closer to Brandon's side. Shortly after, we're arriving at the table with two spare seats with his family. And Florentina.

"Hello," I greet to everyone as Brandon pulls my chair out for me to sit before tucking me in and taking his own in between me and his dad. "You all look lovely."

I'm not lying. His dad looks handsome in his dark grey tux, just like Brandon in his black one. His mum is splashed in glinting gems, similar to the lighter layer I have around my neck, and her dress is more hugging and silver compared to my puffy golden one. Florentina, on the other hand, has a dark rouge dress that's practically skintight, and there's a decent sized hole over her chest to show off the swell of her cleavage. Her hair is styled like a thick honeycomb block atop her cranium.

"If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck," Florentina muses, her narrow eyes fleeting off to the right in that feign innocent manner, away from me.

Brandon's mother doesn't say anything to disagree, but she does hand a small compliment. "You look. . . nice."

Taking that as the best I'll get from her, a small smile tugs at my lips as my head bobs in acknowledgement. Brandon's hand seeks mine underneath the table, and it stirs something deep inside me. It's small, but it makes me feel as if we're lovesick teenagers at school trying to hide it from a teacher. To say it's wishful thinking, but I'm unable to deny that it's a good feeling, and I'm not going to let the moment go.

Brandon's pulled into a conversation with his parents, and Florentina is all over it, so I let her take the reins since it's nothing important or involving me anyway. If I'm going to get through this evening, I've got to let bygones be bygones. Holding back the sigh, my eyes trail off in the meantime for a distraction, and soon enough, it arrives even though it's not the one I'm after. A slip, a dress malfunction, or a food order gone wrong, they would've done somewhat, not Lucius sitting at the second table over from us.

He's sat with a bunch of men accompanied with beautiful women at their sides, only he's alone and not taking part in the conversation. His eyes are pinned on us, and it doesn't take long for them to find mine and lock on. Narrowing my view back, I flick them toward the stage in acts of defiance, but my hand can't stop itself from clutching the ruffle of my dress.

The microphone beeps in testing, and the sight of a slender man with a thick growth covering his jaw takes it upon himself to start the event, and the guests soon fall silent.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! Today, we are here to. . . "

The speech continues, and half of it I'm not even sure what he means, and it doesn't take me long to get distracted by Lucius' stares. After having enough, my eyes snap to his and shoot daggers. To make it worse, he has the audacity to swivel slightly so he can give me his full attention.

"What?" I mouth.

His head tilts at me. "Gorgeous," he mimics in the same tone.

Gritting my teeth, I say, "Watch the speech."

With a smirk, his eyes slowly trail over to the stage, and I'm doing the same and squeeze Brandon's hand until I hear both his name and Lucius' being called out. Both men raise from their seats, and Brandon gives my shoulder a quick squeeze when rounding his parent's side to head for the stage, and Lucius even goes as far as to walk past me. I'm left stunned when his finger caresses the bare skin of my arm, but he doesn't look back to see what state he's left me in, and I'm thankful.

Once the speech makes another lift off, the two are like statues as they stand on each side of the talker. Brandon doesn't move or make much noise other than when he's acknowledged, and Lucius is calm and honestly looks bored, but as soon as he finds me, his irises light up with humour.

Turning my gaze down at my lap, the faint crinkles of the note poke my palm through the fabric of the dress. Just that alone has my vision gliding around, but out of everyone here, no one looks suspicious; Brandon's dad gives me a soft smile and even goes as far as asking if I'm alright, his mum doesn't bat me an eye, and after one more snide comment, Florentina doesn't pay me any attention either. Other than that, there's only Lucius who is suspicious, but maybe that's what makes him the less likely candidate.

What if it's a façade to make me think otherwise?

Rubbing the side of my temple, I'm about to fall into a slump and narrow the list of names with 'yes' and 'no' categories to see who would be the one behind these notes, but the sight of everyone rising has me on my feet as well. Brandon and Lucius make their way off stage, and neither of them approach me. Brandon begins conversing with men and women, shaking hands, and nodding as they go. Lucius, on the other hand, slips out back, and everything doesn't feel as if I've got to watch my back—not for hostility, but for the tension between him, me, and Brandon.

Brandon. . . what is to await us in that hotel room?

Just cuddles? Sex? What we've already been through already?

A small sigh comes from me, hating the childishness flourishing inside me. It's finally going to be the night where I spend it with a man, and it will be the man I love; there's no room for doubt, just the fact I love him and there's never going to be a time to experience such an embrace with someone I love as much.

Eyeing everyone in the room with some sort of calmness. They roam around with others, partnering up to share a dance or huddle in small groups to exchange business and techniques that haven't failed them so far, which is nice since some of them are from opposing companies. Searching the crowd, the familiar mahogany locks belonging to Brandon is my clue he's too far for me to make it, at least as quick as I can before another man swipes him up or the men and women siding me and offering tips of advice.

I'm not fat, I'm just curvy and the dress is puffy, what can I say?

By the time I'm able to get close enough to call to him, his eyes sway from me to an approaching man who steers him away. With a heavy sigh, it becomes clear I'm not going to be seeing him anytime soon unless he tries to approach me since he's the one with the importance around here and not me. Begrudgingly swaying at the thought of what nibbles may occupy the buffet table, I'm treading carefully toward its location and narrowly avoid the twirling figures. Pineapple and cheese cubes will be more than enough to keep me company for the time being.

Spotting them in the centre, I pluck a few for the paper plate I swiped from the end along with a glass of pink bubbly. The sweetness of it soothes my throat and the bubbles tickle my nose, and I'm about to go back for seconds when the faintest caress on my arm has me spinning around. There's no one nearby, and I'm more than happy to pass it off as a dancer if it weren't for the note on my plate beside my hand.