Sara’s POV
Soon, it was time for me to prepare for the party. I did a very light makeup and wore a black knee length dress. When I was done dressing up, I looked outside my window and saw a familiar black car coming towards my apartment. I quickly picked my bag and the things I’ll be needing at the party and stepped outside not before locking the door.
The sleek black car pulled up to the curb outside my apartment building, its engine purring softly as the driver awaited my exit. My heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and nerves as I stepped out onto the sidewalk, smoothing down the fabric of my dress in a futile attempt to calm my racing thoughts.
"Good evening, miss," the driver greeted me with a polite nod.
"Good evening," I replied, offering a nervous smile in return.
The short drive to the event venue was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the occasional hum of passing traffic. My mind raced with questions and uncertainties, wondering what awaited me at the party and how Mr. Samuels would treat me in front of his guests.
As the car came to a stop outside the grand entrance, I took a deep breath and gathered my composure before stepping out onto the red carpet. The warm glow of golden light enveloped me as I made my way inside, the sounds of laughter and conversation washing over me like a wave.
I scanned the crowd anxiously, searching for any sign of Mr. Samuels amidst the throng of guests. And then I saw him, standing across the room with a group of his associates, his gaze cold and distant as it met mine. Drawing a deep breath, I approached him tentatively, unsure of how he would react to my presence.
"Mr. Samuels," I greeted him, forcing a smile despite the knot of nerves in my stomach.
His eyes narrowed as they settled on me, his expression unreadable as he glanced me up and down.
"Ms. Miles," he replied curtly, his tone devoid of warmth.
"I'm glad you could make it," I ventured, attempting to break the tension with some small talk.
Mr. Samuels merely nodded in response, his attention already drifting away from me as he turned to address one of his colleagues. My heart sank at his dismissive gesture, the sting of rejection gnawing at my insides.
But I refused to let his cold demeanor ruin my evening. Steeling myself with a silent resolve, I plastered on a polite smile and mingled with the other guests, determined to make the most of the night despite Mr. Samuels' indifference.
As the evening wore on, I found myself drawn into conversations with a variety of people, each one more engaging than the last. I laughed and joked with newfound acquaintances, the warmth of their camaraderie easing the sting of Mr. Samuels' rejection. And though a part of me couldn't help but wonder why Mr. Samuels had invited me here in the first place, I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on enjoying the moment. After all, I had come here to prove myself, and I wasn't about to let anyone—not even Mr. Samuels—dampen my spirits.
As we mingled among the guests, a distinguished figure caught my attention near the fireplace. Mr. Samuels's posture shifted subtly, a flicker of recognition crossing his features as he turned towards the source of the voice.
"Grandfather, there you are," Mr. Samuels greeted warmly, his voice carrying across the room with an air of familiarity. "I've been waiting for you. Where did you disappear to?"
His grandfather chuckled, patting Mr. Samuels on the back before turning his attention to me. "Ah, Zack, my boy, you know how it is. Meetings here, there, and everywhere," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "But I wouldn't miss this for the world."
Mr. Samuels nodded in understanding, his expression reflecting a mixture of amusement and affection as he embraced his grandfather. It was evident that they shared a close bond, one built on mutual respect and understanding.
“And who is this lovely lady?” Mr. Samuels grandfather inquired, his gaze settling on me with a twinkle of amusement.
“My name is Sara Miles sir, Mr. Samuels personal assistant”, I answered immediately.
“Nice to meet you Sara and do enjoy your evening”, he said with a smile.
“Thank you sir and you too”, I replied returning the smile.
He faced Mr. Samuels, his grandson and they engaged in a deep conversation.
As their conversation continued, I observed the easy rapport between Mr. Samuels and his grandfather, marveling at the depth of their connection. Despite their differences in age and experience, there was an undeniable sense of camaraderie that bound them together.
It was a rare glimpse into the inner workings of Mr. Samuels's life, and I couldn't help but feel privileged to witness it firsthand. As the evening progressed, I found myself drawn into their orbit, eager to learn more about the man behind the enigmatic facade.
Minutes later, a graceful figure approached us, her presence commanding attention as she navigated the crowd with ease. She exuded confidence and sophistication, her every movement a testament to her poise.
"Zack, darling, there you are!," the woman exclaimed, her voice tinged with playful familiarity as she drew near. "I've been looking all over for you."
Mr. Samuels's expression tightened imperceptibly at the sight of her, a fleeting shadow passing over his features before he composed himself. "Nora," he acknowledged coolly, his tone betraying no hint of warmth. "What a surprise."
“Good evening grandpa!” She exclaimed for the second time tonight.
“Hello Nora, good evening to you too. How have you been? It’s been so long”, Mr. Samuels grandfather greeted back.
“Very well grandpa, I’ve been so busy”, she replied.
The woman, apparently unfazed by Mr. Samuels's demeanor, extended her hand towards me with a gracious smile. "And who might this be?" she inquired, her gaze lingering on me with a hint of curiosity.
I offered a polite smile in return, though I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over me in Nora's presence. "I'm Sara," I replied evenly, careful to maintain a neutral expression. "Pleased to meet you."
Nora's smile widened at my response, though there was a calculating glint in her eyes that didn't escape my notice. "Sara, how lovely," she remarked, her tone dripping with faux sweetness. "I'm Nora Roberts, a friend of Zack's."
The air seemed to crackle with tension as Nora's words hung in the air, the underlying implications of their relationship left unspoken yet palpable. I exchanged a meaningful glance with Mr. Samuels, silently acknowledging the complexities of the situation as we navigated the delicate dance of social niceties.
“Sara, why don’t you go fetch yourself a drink?” Mr. Samuels voice cut through the air, breaking the silence and drawing my attention. His words were polite enough, but there was an underlying tension in his tone that didn’t escape my notice.
Inwardly, I sighed, recognizing the subtle cue for what it was. It was Mr. Samuels way of dismissing me, of signaling that he, Nora and his grandfather needed a moment alone. And though I felt a pang of disappointment at being excluded from their conversation, I knew better than to protest or linger where I wasn’t wanted.
With a polite nod, I murmured a brief excuse and turned to leave, the weight of their unspoken conversation lingering in the air like an unspoken question. Little did I know that this seemingly innocuous moment would mark the beginning of a revelation that would alter the course of our lives forever.
As I returned with my drink, I noticed Mr. Samuels and his grandfather were alone and they engaged in a hushed conversation. Their voices were low, but the intensity of their exchange was palpable, sending a ripple of curiosity coursing through me. With a discreet glance, I moved closer, feigning interest in the nearby artwork as I strained to catch fragments of their conversation.
"-when are you going to propose to Nora, Zack?" Mr. Samuels's voice carried a note of expectation, his words laced with a subtle urgency.
Zack's response was measured, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort. "Grandfather, I have someone else in mind," he replied evasively, his gaze flickering momentarily in my direction.
The sudden realization that they were discussing his romantic entanglements sent a jolt of surprise coursing through me, my curiosity piqued by the unexpected revelation. Who was this "someone else" that Zack spoke of? And why did he seem reluctant to divulge further details to his grandfather?
Before I could dwell on the implications of his words, Zack's attention shifted abruptly, his gaze locking onto mine as I approached. In that moment, I felt a surge of apprehension wash over me, uncertain of what his reaction would be to my unexpected presence.
But as our eyes met, Zack's expression softened imperceptibly, a silent acknowledgment passing between us as he uttered two simple words. "Here she comes," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and determination.
In that fleeting moment, I understood the weight of his words, the unspoken implication hanging heavy in the air. I was the one he spoke of, the mysterious "someone else" who held his affections, and now, I found myself thrust into the spotlight of his grandfather's scrutiny.
With a steadying breath, I approached them, bracing myself for the inevitable barrage of questions that would follow. Little did I know that this encounter would mark the beginning of a new chapter in our tumultuous journey, one that would test the boundaries of love, loyalty, and destiny itself.