Leanne's heels clicked against the pavement as she murmured a quick "thanks."
At the top of the steps, Curtis opened a black umbrella he'd taken from someone nearby and descended to meet her.
Her dress was simple, yet it seemed tailor-made to accentuate her figure. The soft, silk fabric in a muted shade of sky blue clung to her just right, outlining her curves before flowing down into gentle ripples, much like waves spreading across a calm lake.
She was the epitome of grace, untouched by the world's chaos.
The umbrella hovered above Leanne, shielding her perfectly from the drizzle.
The gala had begun, the grand hall bustling with the clinking of glasses and laughter.
Battling the wind and rain, a waiter held the door for them, the warm, inviting scent of wine greeting them as they stepped inside.
The room was filled with the big shots from ElitePinnacle and VectorVista, all sharing knowing smiles at the sight of Curtis leading Leanne in.
Many came up to greet them, Curtis effortlessly navigating the social sea with Leanne by his side, engaging in light conversation and handshakes.
A Vector Vista shareholder, who was in his forties, glass in hand, beamed at them, laying it on thick, "What a pleasure to meet you. I've heard about your beauty, but seeing you in person, Mrs. Curtis is truly something else. Curtis is a lucky man."
Leanne barely registered the compliment, responding politely, "Nice to meet you," as she reached to shake his hand.
With an air of nonchalance, Curtis lifted his hand for a brief shake before dismissively letting go. "Don't be envious. You couldn't even if you tried."
The man laughed awkwardly, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then, catching the hint, excused himself.
"Why'd you do that?" Leanne asked, puzzled by his sudden lack of decorum.
That shareholder was an old goat who slept around. Curtis didn't want Leanne to hear about his filthy flings.
"He's a bit of a sleaze, not the kind of man you want to get friendly with," Curtis dismissed with an excuse, "Said he's been eating chicken wings without washing his hands."
Leanne glanced around the room, wondering where on earth he'd find chicken wings at a gala like this.
Caleb went through the crowd, nodding respectfully at Leanne, "Mrs. Richardson."
Then, turning to Curtis, he whispered, "Mr. Stewart and Kenneth from Ascend Assurance Bank have arrived. They're waiting for you."
Curtis nodded, then turned to Leanne with a tone one might use on a naughty child. "I need to speak with some guests. Hang around here and grab something to eat if you're hungry. If you need me, tell someone to get me."
"Okay," Leanne replied, "I'm twenty-six, remember?"
"Really?" Curtis teased, "You look so childlike. I thought you were six."
Before Leanne could respond, he raised an eyebrow and added, "Twenty-six is better. Or I'd be in trouble."
Adjusting his tie, Curtis turned to leave with Caleb but then stopped, turning back to seriously warn her, "My brother's been through a rough breakup. Jealous of what we have, he might try to stir trouble and steal you away. Keep your distance, alright?"
Dismissing his overprotective nonsense, Leanne headed to the buffet to grab a slice of cake, ignoring him.
She hadn't had time to eat after work and was famished. She picked some of her favorite snacks to tide her over.
She scanned the room from her spot at the buffet but didn't see Chuck.
As she set her plate down, she overheard a snippet of conversation and someone mentioning "Mr. Richardson."
Instinctively, Leanne looked up, following the direction of the voice, and her gaze landed on Phillip, standing on the southwest side of the hall.
Dressed in a sharp black suit, he was in conversation with Chuck.
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