AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jackson’s parents are adorable.
We eat dinner without any more tough questions to answer. Jackson and his parents chat about business and the party. I continue to smile.
“Where is Grandpa, anyway?" Jackson asks. “I really need to speak with him.”
“I’m sure he’s hob-knobbing with one of his celebrity clients,” Trevor answers. “You won’t get a word in with him tonight. Too many people want to talk to him. Everyone is asking questions about the future of the company.”
He leans back in his chair, arms folded. “He could tell them it will be inverycapable hands and be done with it.”
The ego of this guy.
“You know that hasn’t been officially decided yet, Trevor.” Jackson does not appreciate his assumption that he’ll take the reins.
“All right you two,” Mrs. Reed intercedes. “Let’s just enjoy the party and support your grandfather in his retirement. He deserves our full attention. This night belongs to him.”
“Sure thing, Mom.”
“You got it, Aunt Amanda.”
I’m sure Jackson would love to wipe the smug look off Trevor’s face, but this is not the time or place, and he knows it.
Jackson’s parents excuse themselves after dinner, and we walk to a nearby window. Jackson's eyes watch the night intently, as if he is searching for something in the darkness.
"What's the matter?"
"I was hoping to talk to my grandfather tonight."
"Well, you can visit him tomorrow."
He rakes his hand through his hair. "I know, but I need to put an end to this charade now. I promised you.”
He did. But something about hearing him say it out loud makes me a little unexpectedly sad. Being around his parents, the way they instantly welcomed me, made me forget for a minute this is all fake. The way his mom has been so gentle and kind to me showed me what unconditional love should look like.I enjoyed it. It will be tough to see it end so quickly even though I know it has to.
A melodic bell resonates through the vastness of the building, pulling me out of the momentary stupor. People file out of various rooms, their laughter and animated conversations blending into a din of voices. I turn to Jackson, my eyes seeking an explanation for the sudden stir.
"What's happening?"
He glances at me. "It's time for the ball dance," he replies. “My grandparents are big ballroom dancers. It’s a tradition. Every party they throw includes a special waltz that starts at the sound of the bell. People are so used to it they respond immediately. A little like Pavlov’s dogs.” He laughs.
The idea of navigating the intricacies of a waltz, which I know nothing about, sends a flutter of nervousness through me. Plus, there’s the heels. Walking is hard enough at this point.
Maybe he won’t even want to dance. Seems impossible with the cane.
With a nod, Jackson leads me toward the source of the enchanting music. We enter the ballroom. The grandeur of it momentarily steals my breath. This space is pure luxury and sophistication. I’ve seen many chandeliers before, but this one is the most magnificent by far.
It’s not just a light fixture but a work of art. The sheer size of it adds a majestic presence. There are layers of crystal prisms and delicate glass ornaments, creating a dazzling display of refracted light that dances across the room. Each crystal seems to be meticulously placed. Most people here probably take it for granted, but this opulence is new to me.
The dance floor gleams, welcoming guests to twirl and whirl in rhythmic elegance. Intricate patterns adorn the floor, reflecting meticulous craftsmanship. At the edges of the ballroom, plushvelvet curtains in rich hues cascade from ceiling to floor, adding a touch of regality to the ambiance.
Jackson catches me staring. “You like it?”
“Like is not a strong enough word. It’s phenomenal!”
We watch couples in exquisite gowns and dashing suits gracefully glide across the floor. Their movements synchronized with the enchanting melody coming from the direction of the stage.
An orchestra?
I had no idea the music I was hearing was live. This party gets more extravagant by the minute. The air is infused with a heady blend of floral notes, and the room resonates with laughter and the gentle murmur of conversations. It's a scene straight out of a fairytale. For a moment, I feel like an interloper in this world of glamour.
