Chapter 9: Girlfriend?
We’d barely claimed a corner table and begun stuffing our faces with tiny, overpriced food when a tall man in a crisp black suit approached, his expression politely unreadable. He stopped in front of us and turned his gaze to Aria.
"Mrs. Smith," he said, voice low but firm. "Your mother specifically asked me to make sure you were... mingling."
Aria let out a groan, her half-bitten macaron still in hand. "Seriously?"
"She also requested that I check in if you appeared to be—well..." His eyes briefly flicked from our secluded table to her half-full plate. "...hiding."
"Oh, I can’t believe she made you tail me," Aria muttered, wiping her fingers with a napkin. "Let me guess—she already gave you a list of people I’m supposed to talk to tonight?"
He nodded once, pulling a folded sheet of paper from his inside pocket like some kind of upper-crust spy.
She rolled her eyes so hard it’s a miracle they didn’t get stuck. "Fine. Lead the way, Agent Mother’s Orders."
Then she turned to me, her face softening. "I’ll be quick, I swear. Don’t let anyone eat our cake while I’m gone."
I raised my fork like a sword. "They can try."
And just like that, she disappeared into the crowd with her polished babysitter in front, leaving me alone with my plate of mini desserts, and the growing realization that I was now solo in a room full of strangers in designers.
But hey—at least the food is good.