Gabriella
As Michael drove Damien and I up onto a wide driveway, the Shermans' home glowed with golden light, reminding me of a Thomas Kincaid painting. The house spanned both directions, with a large entry in the middle.
Damien reached for my hand. “You're stunning in that gown."
He was dashing as ever in a custom tuxedo.
“Oh, this thing," I said with a smile. “Just a Brandon Maxwell I had lying around."
He kept his voice low. “You are gorgeous in nothing at all. The reason for the clothes was because I wanted to be sure that these people saw you as I do, a brilliant, competent, self-assured woman. You're not less than them because of their wallets. You're equal if not more. I know you have your own clothes. Thank you for letting me dress you."
My lips curled into a smile. “The
