CHERYL
The stairs wound up like a twisting, polished spine, the rich mahogany steps gleaming under the soft, golden light of the overhead chandeliers. Each step brought us closer to the main event hall, where the low hum of music and mingling voices grew louder, the air thickening with the clinking of glasses and the soft rustle of designer fabrics.
Oliver’s hand remained at the small of my back as we reached the landing, his touch firm yet oddly comforting. I could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of my dress, a steady reminder of his presence, his breath brushing my ear as he leaned in to speak.
“Are you ready?” he whispered, his voice a teasing rumble.
I turned to meet his eyes, catching the faintest glint of mischief beneath his polished exterior. “For what?”
He s
