Chapter 13
Theo
With one last look in the hotel room mirror, I’m satisfied that this is a good look for tonight.
I settled on my black slacks and a white shirt.
Whitney ordered me a dinner jacket specifically for this event, and I’d be lying if I wasn’t impressed with her style.
She picked a slim-fit charcoal gray jacket with a subtle embroidered floral pattern.
I paired it with a black tie and silver cufflinks.
I’m still fiddling with my tie, unsure I have the knot correct. We’re already pushing the time too close, so this will have to do. I rap my knuckles against the bathroom door to let Whitney know we’ve got to hurry up, and step back into the living area in our hotel room to wait for her.
Only a few minutes pass before Whitney throws open the bathroom door and enters the main room to greet me. The minute my eyes fall on her, my mouth goes dry.
She’s an absolute vision.
Adorned in a long, royal purple formal dress, she seems to have stepped out of a dream.
The shape of the dress does amazing things for her figure, the neckline dipping low and showing off the exquisite swell of her breasts.
And to make matters worse, her dress has a long slit running up the side of her leg.
I swallow thickly, attempting to get ahold of myself as she turns to me with a wide smile. “How do I look?” she asks.
“Stunning,” I choke out and then clear my throat. “You look great, Whitney.”
Her cheeks heat, and her eyes fall down to the matching purple clutch she holds in both hands. She tucks a strand of her silky hair back behind her ear and then looks up at me again shyly. “Shall we?”
I offer her my arm and try not to let myself get too carried away with ideas when she loops her own arm through.
We go downstairs to the ballroom, where the gala is being held.
This isn’t the first time I’ve attended this event with a plus one, but none of those others were Whitney.
As we walk into the ornately decorated room, Whitney draws all the attention to herself.
She receives gazes of adoration from the women and desirous looks from the men.
As we walk across the floor, my chest swells with pride as she catches everyone’s attention. She is easily the most beautiful woman here, and she’s here with me. I can’t keep my eyes off her, just as much as everyone else here.
“Theo!” a deep voice booms across the ballroom.
I tear my gaze away from Whitney to catch sight of my father ambling toward us.
He’s dressed in a navy suit with a silky, cream-colored tie, which perfectly complements my mother’s cream ballgown.
I have no doubt that my mom coordinated their apparel for tonight meticulously.
My mother has her arm looped through his but is staring at my date appreciatively.
However, her dark eyes gleam in a way that raises my suspicions.
When they approach us, I give quick introductions. “Whitney, this is my mother and my father.”
My mother removes herself from my father’s side and steps closer, eyeing Whitney intently. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, dear.”
Whitney nods to my mother, and the motion is a bit stiff, but she still plasters on a bright smile. “Pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Hurst.”
My mother eyes Whitney again, and doesn’t correct her in her greeting.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on edge, wondering why my mother is being standoffish towards my date this evening.
My father extends a hand to her, warmly, and Whitney takes it, giving him a brisk handshake.
My father looks pleased. “I’m Robert. We’re so glad you two could make it tonight. ”
I step up next to Whitney again, my arm sliding around her waist and pulling her closer. She gives me an appreciative glance, as if grateful that I had taken my place beside her again. “Glad to be here,” I respond.
“Oh, Theo, I believe I just saw Lauren across the room,” my mother informs me.
Right away, I grit my teeth together, wishing she would have just left well enough alone.
That must have been that suspicious gleam I noted in her eye just a moment ago.
“Perhaps you can make an effort to go say hello to her.”
I can feel Whitney’s eyes burning through me like laser beams. “We’ll see,” I say noncommittally.
“Have you prepared your speech for tonight?” my mom asks me, changing the topic again and clasping her hands together in front of her.
“I believe so. Hopefully, it’s good.”
Whitney laughs. “He’s been working on it nonstop all week. I have no doubt that you’ll be impressed. Theo is going to knock the socks off everyone.”
My mother gives Whitney a sideways glance, as if she’s unimpressed by the praise my date has for me. “I’m sure he will. Well, we have a few other people to greet. We’ll see you two back at the table. Whitney, I’m so glad you were able to attend. I can’t wait to get to know you more.”
With a final, meaningful look at me—which I suspect is her silently telling me she approves of my date—my parents excuse themselves to make their rounds.
As we walk to our assigned table, I note Whitney’s sudden silence. I swallow thickly, my throat feeling tight as I think of the best way to trouble-shoot the can of worms my mother unintentionally brought up.
“Lauren is a family friend,” I say, my voice even.
“That’s nice,” she says, but her hand tightens around mine.
I clench my jaw again, ignoring the way my muscles protest. “We did date for a few years, but she wanted more than I was apparently capable of giving her.”
The tightness in my chest reminds me just how much she reminded me that I wasn’t enough for her. How I seemed to be deficient in every possible aspect for her.
“Theo,” Whitney says my name softly, squeezing my hand again and banishing those darker thoughts of worthlessness. “It’s really none of my business.”
“It kind of is though, don’t you think? You’re here as my date, my mother shouldn’t have mentioned anything about Lauren or any type of history we once had. I can’t believe how rude that was.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure she meant nothing by it.”
I make a noise in the back of my throat, knowing despite Whitney’s protests, I’ll be having a discussion with my mother about this at some point. I can’t figure out why she’d make such a pointed comment unless she had some ulterior motive. But that wasn’t at all like my mother.
“You have your mother’s eyes,” Whitney whispers to me as we continue to make our way across the ballroom floor.
“I suppose I do.” She hums next to me, and I look down at her to get a better look at her face. She’s grinning from ear to ear at me. The pressure in my chest lightens from the delighted look on her face, no longer bothered by some sideways comment from my mother. “What?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, still beaming. “I just really like that fact about you.”
I laugh under my breath. “I’m glad I’m living up to your expectations.”
Whitney’s smile falls off her face, her eyes narrow slightly, and her brow furrows like she’s unsure of what I mean. I study her face, trying to figure out what I said that caused her confusion. “What is it?” I finally ask, when I continue to come up blank as to why she’d be so bothered.
Snapping out of whatever stupor I unintentionally threw her into, she shakes her head, and her smile returns in full force. “Nothing. Let’s go find our seats.”
I’ll ask her about it later, willing to let her brush it away for now.
This is neither the time nor the place to dig into whatever that was.
Together, we walk to the table my parents have assigned us.
It’s the same number every year—number six.
My mother does this intentionally, so some more prominent patrons can sit at the higher-numbered tables and feel infinitely more important.
After pulling out Whitney’s chair for her to sit, I sit right next to her, scooting my chair a little closer so her arm brushes against mine.
Over the next few minutes, I point out some familiar faces I know from past years.
Most people in attendance tonight are intimately involved in my mother’s organization, focusing on creating affordable housing for everyone.
My parents return to our table a little while later and take their seats. A few of my parents' friends join them, and soon, our table of eight is full. We all make small talk as the waitstaff arrives and delivers house salads to each of us.
We make it through all of the dinner courses before the MC for the night is summoning me up to the stage to give my speech. After dabbing at my mouth with my napkin, I excuse myself from the table and walk up, smiling and nodding politely as the attendees clap for me.
Once up at the podium, I focus on the words I’ve practiced all night.
The spotlight on me is blinding, and I squint through, searching for one familiar face.
Finally, I find her back at the table, beaming up at me with pride shining through her expression.
My eyes lock on Whitney, and though everyone in the room watches me with rapt attention, I only look at her.
As I finish my speech, the room erupts in applause. I bow my head slightly before stepping off the podium. My mother and father are both waiting for me at the end of the stage. My dad pats me on the shoulder, and my mother hugs me. “That was excellent, honey.”
“Thanks,” I tell them both with a smile. They each give me one more fond smile before they take the stage.
Walking back to our table, I get stopped a few times to receive congratulations on my talk. I thank them quickly each time, itching to get back to Whitney and out of the spotlight.
She’s watching for me, and her full lips turn up at the corners when she sees me. My heart seems to skip a beat, and I find myself walking faster, increasing my pace to get to her as soon as possible.