PARKER
I don’t trip walking the red carpet. That’s the first miracle of the night.
I keep my chin lifted, my smile bright, and my steps smooth in the heels Harrison insisted on buying me to match the gown. I can feel the subtle weight of eyes, flashbulbs, curated curiosity—VT Global’s gala is the event tonight. There are camera crews, influencers, industry powerhouses. Clients. Enemies. Frenemies.
It’s a show, and I’m one of the main acts.
The dress is a deep green satin that catches light like water, clinging in the right places and cascading in all the others. My makeup is elegant, and my hair is curled, pinned, and sprayed into submission. I look like someone who belongs here.
Which is wild, because I absolutely do not.
There’s a tight coil in my chest that hasn’t let up all day.
