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I laughed. "I had to order them for the first gala we had. That's what they're called in the catalog." She giggled as she went back to looking out the window. The car slowed as we pulled in. Our time to get out had approached.
"One more thing, Calla."
"Yeah?"
"When we get out, there are going to be a lot of flashes from people trying to get photos for the papers. Do what you can to keep a relaxed smile on your face despite all the flashing."
"Oh! I never thought about that!"
"Yeah, well, let's just say I learned from experience. The photos from the first gala looked like either I was attacked by killer bees or there was a really bad smell. Not flattering." Calla laughed.
"Okay. Noted. I will not have the bad smell look on my face. How's this?" She looked at me with a plastic smile on her face.
"Not bad, not bad. Just scrunch a little at the eyes and you've got it made."
She squeezed my arm. "Thanks, Dom. Now let's go have a great time." She leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the lips. I could only describe the feeling as a heart flutter when I didn't know I was capable of a flutter.
"Wow, this place is stunning," Calla remarked as her eyes followed the red carpet to the giant chandelier at the top of the stairs.
"Wait until you see the inside," I replied with a grin, my anticipation building. The driver got out and opened my door for me to step out. He then headed to the other side, opening the door in time for me to offer my hand to assist Calla in stepping out gracefully. Her soft skin brushed against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
“Thank you," she said, her sparkling eyes meeting mine. The flashing of cameras started, creating a strobe feeling in my brain, but I plastered on my own smile as I turned with Calla to face everyone.
"Dr. Harrington!" they called out. "Who's your date?"
Calla and I ignored questions as we politely waved to the gathered crowd and started up the stairs. I could see my driver informing the press of Calla's name, as previously discussed, ensuring the media got the correct spelling for publication. It was nice to not have to worry about the details sometimes.
I couldn't resist placing my hand on the small of her back as we made our way toward the entrance. A surge of possessiveness washed over me. I wanted everyone to know that she was here with me tonight.
"Shall we?" I asked, gesturing toward the doors.
"Definitely," she replied, her smile infectious.
Once inside, we were greeted by the warm glow of chandeliers all around the lobby and the sound of live music. The sophistication of the event was only matched by Calla's elegance, and I couldn't help but steal glances at her throughout the evening.
"Dr. Harrington!" a familiar voice called out. It was one of my colleagues, Dr. Asha Gupta. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Dr. Gupta," I responded, shaking her hand and introducing Calla. "This is Calla Rosewood, my date for the evening."
"Nice to meet you," Calla said, extending her hand to Asha.
"Likewise. And please call me Asha. No need for formalities tonight," Asha replied. "Well, you two certainly make a striking pair."
"Thanks," I chuckled, feeling a slight heat rise to my cheeks. "We're here to celebrate our foundation and our partners and have a great time, of course. Which, by the way, Asha, we appreciate your continued support in our work around the world."
"Absolutely, it's a pleasure," Asha agreed. "It's nice to know that my financial gifts are directly helping others. There's not another foundation that really gives you that assurance. I appreciate the work all of you put into this, including your personal time."
"When you love something, it definitely doesn't seem like work," I added. It was true that most foundations had to raise money first to run the foundation and then support the work they wanted to do. Since our investment side was doing so well, every donation could be put to work contributing to the bottom line surgeries we offered.
Asha smiled. "It was great seeing you, Dominic and Calla. I'll let you two get back to your night. Have fun!"
"Thank you," Calla said as we waved goodbye.
"Let's grab a drink," I suggested, leading her toward the bar.
"Sounds good," she replied, her laughter filling the air as we joked about our preferences for cocktails.
"Alright, one Old Fashioned and one Cosmopolitan coming right up," I declared, placing our orders.
