Sarah Thompson's eyes never left Jack's face as she stepped closer, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the ballroom. The crystal chandeliers cast golden light across her features, highlighting the determination in her gaze.
"Jack," she said, her voice clear and unwavering, "I want you to be my boyfriend."
The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before the room erupted into gasps and whispers. Wine glasses froze halfway to lips. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the jazz quartet in the corner missed a note, the saxophone trailing off into silence.
"Did she just—?" "Sarah Thompson? THE Sarah Thompson?" "Is this actually happening?"
Emily Wilson felt her world tilt sideways. The crimson dress she wore suddenly felt too tight, too hot, too visible. Her cheeks burned
