"What look?"
"The 'I'm in over my head even though I've been doing this for ten years' look."
I roll my eyes. "You're one to talk."
She laughs. "Fair enough. But seriously, Keira, you're going to be okay tonight. You're going to do great. Nothing will happen. Plus, Octavian will be there."
I swallow hard, adjusting the neckline of my dress.
"Yeah, well, he's always around," I say.
"Ares says he's good," Calli continues. "And Enzo was here the other day, and I asked him too. He said he'd trust Octavian with his own family. That's got to mean something."
Her words settle over me. I suppose she has a point.
"I mean, even you say he's always by you," she adds. "Maybe tonight, let him be?"
"Let him be?" I ask, frowning at my reflection. "It'd be nice if I even had a choice."
"Well, maybe this is for your own good. Even you said the other day he's not mean to you and kind of cute for the stalker-in-the-shadows type."
Heat flares in my chest. I glance toward the door, half worried he can somehow hear us through walls and floors.
"Yeah, but—" I stop myself.
"But what?"
"Still."
Calli laughs. "Okay. Love you. Have fun. Text me everything tomorrow. Especially if you raise more than last year."
"I will. Love you too."
We hang up, and I stare at my phone for a moment longer than necessary, thinking.
Then I shake it off, slip into my heels, turn to the mirror, fix one last flyaway curl, and head downstairs.
Octavian is waiting by the door.
He's dressed in a charcoal suit that looks like it was tailored specifically to contain all that muscle underneath. The fabric stretches across his shoulders, creases at his biceps, clings to his chest in a way that makes it impossible not to notice he's probably chiseled to damn perfection beneath it.
His tattoos peek out from his collar and cuffs, dark ink against his tan skin, and somehow they don't look out of place. They make him look sharper, more refined.
I'd make that jab at him about looking like a bouncer when we first met, but he looks anything but.
He looks up from his phone at me as I approach, his dark eyes sweeping over me once, quickly, like he's trying not to stare, which he's pretty good at.
"For a bodyguard, you're on your phone a lot," I say.
"It's just some business," he says and puts his phone away.
I'm not sure if I beleive him, but I move on telling myself I don't care.
"Well?" I ask, twirling once. "How do I look?"
He studies me for a moment. It's brief but intense, like I can feel his eyes scanning me.
"Okay. You ready?"
