“Ready when you are.”
My pulse jumps as I text back.
“Almost.”
My mother hovers over me as I put on the earrings she picked out, specifically for this evening. Diamonds are meant to suggest wealth and old money. She fusses with the skirt of my dress, smoothing imaginary wrinkles. Her hands are gentle, but her eyes say something else.
“You know what’s expected tonight, Ivory,” she whispers, her lips barely moving. “Don’t embarrass your father.”
I nod. My stomach churns.
The suite empties, and my mother leaves for the gala ahead of us, her perfume lingering in the air even after she’s gone.
Finally, a moment of peace and quiet.
I close my eyes and try to calm my nerves, slow my breathing. While trying to remember who I am under all these fake layers.
There’s a knock. The low, steady sound lets me know exactly who’s on the other side. And it makes my heart stutter. I open the door and nearly forget how to breathe. Hudson stands there in a black tux, looking impossibly handsome, the crisp lines stretching over his broad shoulders and chest, making him look even bigger; dangerous and delicious all at once. His short dark hair is perfectly styled, but there’s a hint of rebellion in the way it’s tousled, as if he just rolled out of bed, but on purpose. A shadow of scruff dusts his jaw, making him look rougher, older. His eyes lock on mine, hungry and possessive, before roaming over me like I’m the only thing in the universe he wants. That familiar heat flares low in my belly, my pulse kicking up as I drink him in, every inch of me suddenly aching for his hands on my skin.
“Wow. Ivory, you look… incredible,” he says, his voice filled with want. His hand hovers near my elbow but not touching.
I want to step into his arms, bury my face in his jacket, and beg him to take me away from all of this. I imagine us sneaking out a side door, running through empty streets, laughing because we have nothing left to lose.
Instead, I give him a small smile, “You clean up pretty nicely, yourself.”
He smiles back, offering his arm. “Ready?”
Without a word, I take it, using his strength to keep me steady as we head for the elevator. The hallway smells of liliesand hotel soap. My heels click with every step, as my hand grips his bicep for balance. I wish I could stay like this all night—his, safe, hidden from the rest of the world.
The elevator doors slide shut, leaving just the two of us in the mirrored box. Hudson positions himself beside me, close enough that his sleeve brushes mine. The stranger in the mirror has my face, but I don’t recognize her under all the layers of makeup and jewels, draped in blue silk that feels like someone else’s skin, while Hudson stands beside me, unmovable, certain, a man who’s perfectly at home in his own skin. His breath warms my ear as he whispers, “Tonight, I’m your shadow. No matter what happens in that ballroom, I’ll be right there with you.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
The limo is waiting at the curb, all black and shiny. My father stands beside it, with his phone in one hand, and the other tapping against the car, impatient.
“Well, well. You’re on time,” he says, not even looking at me. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Hudson opens the door, helping me in, then scoots in next to me while my father climbs in across from us. The inside of the car smells like leather and something vulgar: cologne, power, threat.
For a few blocks, there’s complete silence.
My father glances at his phone, then at me. His voice is cold, precise. “Tonight is very important, Ivory. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t embarrass the family. Smile when you’re told. Speak only when spoken to. And for God’s sake, don’t let that little stutter show.” I nod, fingers twisting in my lap. Hudson shifts, discreetly pressing his thigh to mine, and I let it steady me. I wish I could hold his hand, but with my father here, that’s not even an option. “Do you understand what’s at stake?” my father continues, eyes narrowed. “Our name, our alliances, your future. There is no room for mistakes. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
He nods, satisfied. “Good. Remember what you’ve been taught. You represent more than yourself tonight.”
The limo makes its way through the city streets, headlights from passing cars stream by. I watch the world blur; the shops with decorated windows, the couples walking arm in arm, free and careless.
I wonder what it would feel like to be one of them. I wonder if Hudson is thinking the same thing.
When we finally pull up to The Morrow Museum, a mob of photographers is waiting outside, their camera flashes going off like fireworks. Hudson gets out first, scans the crowd, then turns and offers his hand. I take it, stepping into the chaos. My father walks ahead, while my mother appears in a cloud of silk and diamonds, and I am swept along with them, smiling, on display, and silent. Always silent.
As we move through the crowd, I hear my father’s voice in my head.“Don’t mess up. Don’t forget who you are.”
But then I catch Hudson’s reflection in a pane of glass, watching me. And for a moment, I remember who I really am. Ivory. A young woman in a pretty dress, hoping for a night that belongs to her, even if it’s only inside her own heart.
Once inside the ballroom, it’s nothing but glass walls and marble floors. Everything gleaming with hints of gold, while conversations are being had with the unmistakable cadence of people who know exactly what they’re worth.
