Expect The Unexspected

TheDayOfTheParty

Grace, a whirlwind of controlled energy, surveyed the scene. The house, usually calm and serene, was buzzing with activity. Staff bustled about, carrying trays, arranging flowers, and polishing already gleaming surfaces.

"Maria," Grace called, her voice sharp but efficient, "are the gambling tables set up correctly in the games room? And the lighting? I want a soft, atmospheric glow, not harsh spotlights."

Maria, ever composed, nodded. "Yes, Señora Grace. The tables are arranged, and the lighting is adjusted to your specifications. The green felt is gleaming."

"Excellent," Grace replied, turning to another member of the staff. "Javier, are the floral arrangements in the dining room and living room complete? Remember, deep reds and whites, opulent, not fussy."

Javier, a young man with a nervous smile, confirmed the arrangements were finished.

"Good. And the scent diffusers? Subtle jasmine, remember? Not overpowering."

"Yes, Señora Grace," he replied, relieved.

Grace moved through the rooms, checking details, issuing instructions with precision and efficiency. She was a conductor orchestrating a symphony of preparation, her every instruction meticulously planned. The pressure was immense, but she was determined to pull it off flawlessly.

"Veronica," she called, her voice softening. "Sweetheart, are you ready? We need to go shopping for your dress."

Veronica, who had been quietly observing the preparations, bounced excitedly. "Yes, Mom! I can't wait!"

At the boutique, Veronica's eyes widened in wonder. Rows upon rows of shimmering gowns hung before her, a kaleidoscope of colours and textures. She gasped, her fingers tracing the delicate lace of a pale blue dress.

"Oh, Mom, look! This one is like Cinderella's!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe.

Grace smiled, her heart warming at her daughter's delight. They spent the next hour browsing, Veronica flitting from one dress to another, her excitement growing with each new discovery. There were princess dresses in every shade imaginable – shimmering silks, flowing satins, delicate chiffons. She tried on several, each one more enchanting than the last.

"This one!" she declared, finally, holding up a shimmering emerald green gown. "It's like a princess from a fairytale forest!"

Grace examined the dress, its rich colour complementing Veronica's vibrant energy. It was perfect. "You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart," Grace said, her voice filled with pride.

Veronica beamed, twirling in front of the mirror, her laughter echoing through the boutique. The dress, the excitement, the shared moment – it was a small victory against the backdrop of the upcoming weekend's grand performance. For now, though, mother and daughter were simply enjoying the magic of a shared experience, a brief respite before the whirlwind of the Gatsby party truly began.The car glided smoothly along the tree-lined avenue. Veronica, humming softly, adjusted the silk scarf around her neck. The shopping bags, containing her new dress and other purchases, rested elegantly beside her.

"A most successful afternoon, wouldn't you say, ladies?" the chauffeur, Mr. Davies, asked politely, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Miss Veronica, the emerald gown was simply stunning. A perfect choice for tonight's celebration."

Veronica smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Davies. I'm very pleased with it. It feels…right."

Grace, however, remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. The excitement that had filled her earlier was fading, replaced by a growing unease.

"And you, Miss Grace?" Mr. Davies continued. "Are you looking forward to the party this evening? Mr. Richards seems particularly eager for a successful weekend."

Grace managed a strained smile. "Yes, of course. Everything is… almost ready." Her voice sounded thinner than she intended.

As they drew closer to the house, the imposing structure looming larger with each passing second, Grace's apprehension intensified. The image of Richard's expectant face, the critical eyes of their guests, flooded her mind. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

"I… I just have to pull myself together," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. The words slipped out before she could stop them. "I can't let anyone see how… how apprehensive I am. This whole weekend… it has to be perfect. For Richard."

Veronica looked at her with concern. "Grace, are you alright? You seem a little stressed."

Grace took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm fine, really. Just a little overwhelmed, I suppose. It's just… a lot to manage. But I'll be fine. Everything will be perfect." She forced a brighter smile, hoping it reached her eyes. Mr. Davies remained silent, his gaze focused on the road, expertly navigating the car towards its destination. The weight of the weekend, however, remained heavy on Grace's shoulders.The car slowed, the imposing gates of their estate slowly swinging open. Grace stared out the window, the manicured lawns blurring past. Her internal monologue continued, a relentless stream of anxieties.

"The floral arrangements… are they tall enough? Did I order enough champagne? Richard will hate it if the canapés aren't precisely arranged. And what if Aunt Mildred starts gossiping again? Oh, and the music… I hope the playlist is appropriate. He specifically requested no jazz…" She chewed on her lip, her reflection in the darkened window showing a strained expression. "This is all for Richard. It has to be perfect. He deserves it."

Veronica, meanwhile, was engaged in her own silent preparation. She smoothed down her dress, the emerald silk shimmering under the soft interior light. She mentally rehearsed her responses to potential questions, practiced a charming smile, and considered the best way to engage her father without appearing overly eager or, conversely, aloof. She knew her father's moods could shift like the tides, and tonight, she was determined to navigate them successfully. He'd been particularly demanding lately, and the success of this party, she knew, was crucial to his overall contentment.

"He'll be watching me," she thought, adjusting the delicate diamond necklace he'd gifted her. "Every move, every word. I have to be impeccable. Grace is stressed enough; I can't add to her burden." She closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to center herself. The car came to a halt before the grand entrance. The weight of expectation hung heavy in the air, palpable even within the hushed confines of the limousine. Both women knew that the next few days would be a delicate dance, a performance carefully choreographed to maintain a fragile equilibrium.