Abby
I can feel my heart race as I descend the staircase, each click of my high heels seeming to resonate through the quiet house. Karl is standing in the hallway below, his presence dominating the space as he adjusts his tie in the mirror. I can hear him whispering under his breath, but I can’t quite make out what he’s saying—probably practicing his speech.
But then he looks up as I enter, his gaze locking onto mine, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.
“Well? How do I look?” I ask, a nervous flutter in my stomach. I’m wearing the outfit that the stylist chose for me—a sleek blue dress that hugs my curves and heels that add an extra inch to my height. It’s sophisticated, but also a little sexy. I just hope that it’s appropriate for the press conference.
Karl’s eyes sweep over
