The life of a typical office receptionist is pretty simple. Just smile and welcome unfamiliar faces into the company, whether you want to or not. It seems easy enough, but Sophie Matthews found nothing amusing about the job—or any of her other jobs, for that matter. The monotony wore on her daily, and today was no exception. She glanced at the clock, silently willing it to move faster. She didn't have much to do on a normal day than to just stay seated for hours, staring at the glass doors. Sophie closed her eyes for a bit to get a little rest as she wasn't doing much at the moment but the sound of sharp heels clicking against the tiled floor brought her back to reality.
Mrs. Penelope Hart, her boss, approached with the kind of purposeful stride that made Sophie's stomach churn. Mrs. Hart never came to see her for pleasantries, she always had a reason, and most times, that reason wasn't something Sophie liked.
"Sophie," Mrs. Hart began, her voice as polished as her appearance. "I need a favour."
Sophie sat up straighter, her instincts already screaming at her to find an excuse. "What kind of favour?"
"There's a gala tonight," Mrs. Hart said. "A influential family, the Carringtons, are hosting it. I think they want to use that medium to gain popularity for their company, and he's invited ours."
"I'm sorry but I can't go. I wouldn't want to be involved with people of that status, it's exhausting." Sophie's brow furrowed. "Why don't you want to go? I mean… galas can be fun."
Mrs. Hart sighed, her sharp features softening. "I promised my kids I'd take them out tonight if they passed their exams. They did, and I want to keep my word. Please just help me out here."
"I really can't go, I—"
"Before you start, I've already arranged everything. You'll attend as my representative. Your name will be on the guest list, and I'll put someone here to handle your duties here tomorrow."
"But—"
"No buts, Sophie," Mrs. Hart interrupted. "You'll look great, I'm sure of it. Just smile, mingle a little, and represent the company well. That's all I'm asking. It's a one-day thing, it's not like you're getting involved with their affairs."
Sophie hesitated. The idea of being surrounded by strangers in a social setting was her personal nightmare. She knew that the chances of her running into Carrington was slim but she didn't want to risk it. "I don't think I—"
"I've already arranged for a dress to be delivered to your apartment," Mrs. Hart added, effectively cutting off any further excuses.
Sophie sighed in defeat. There was no getting out of this. "Fine, I'll go."
"Thank you, Sophie. I owe you one," Mrs. Hart said, flashing a rare smile before walking away.
As soon as she was gone, Sophie slumped in her chair. She was regretting her decision already.
---
That evening, Sophie stood in front of her mirror, her reflection almost unrecognizable. The gown Mrs. Hart had sent was stunning—an emerald-green satin dress that hugged her figure perfectly. The off-shoulder neckline showcased her delicate collarbones, while the thigh-high slit added a touch of daring elegance. She paired it with simple silver heels and let her chestnut-brown hair cascade in loose waves.
"You can do this," she told herself, although her voice lacked conviction.
---
The gala was held at a luxurious ballroom adorned with crystal chandeliers and golden accents. Sophie stepped inside, instantly overwhelmed by the chatter of elegantly dressed guests and the clinking of glasses. She found a table near the edge of the room and sat down, determined to blend into the background.
A waiter brought her a glass of champagne, and she took a small sip, already counting down the minutes until she could leave.
Just as she was beginning to relax, a deep, smooth voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
Sophie looked up to see a tall man with sharp features, dark hair, and a confident smile. His tailored black suit fit him like a second skin, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a hint of mischief.
"No," she said hesitantly, her instinct to refuse overridden by the reminder that she wasn't here as herself but as her boss. "Go ahead."
"Thank you," he said, taking the seat across from her. "I'm Damien."
"Sophie," she replied, trying to maintain a polite tone.
"Not much of a gala person, are you?" he asked.
Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Is it that obvious?"
"Well no, not really but my eye is sharper than most. So why are you here since you don't want to be?" Damien asked, taking a sip from glass.
"It's essential for my company or so I'm told."
"Where would you rather be?"
"Maybe in an empty space, staring at the moon in complete solitude."
"But who said that we can't still go outside to stare at the moon?" Damien smirked and took another sip of his wine.
"I can't. I have to be here."
"I'm pretty sure no one would notice if you disappeared for a few minutes. Besides, a little birdie told me that the Carringtons' balcony had a amazing view. Just a quick peek. I know you want to see it."
"Fine. Let's go."
After a little sneaking around, they were at the balcony. True to what Damien said, the view from the balcony was fascinating. They could see the forest miles away from the building and even the moon looked closer than it actually was. Sophie smiled at Damien, using her eyes to thank him for bringing her there. The sight was really one to behold. As she was about to say something, a man walked into the balcony where they were.
"Mr. Carrington," the man said, addressing Damien with a slight bow. "There's someone looking for you."
Sophie froze, her breath catching in her throat. "You're… Carrington?" she stammered, her eyes widening in shock.
"Yes, I am," Damien replied, his brow furrowing slightly at her reaction.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go," Sophie said abruptly, walking away so quickly that she almost knocked over the man over.
"Sophie, wait—" Damien began, but she was already halfway across the room, her heart pounding in her chest.
"This will definitely be the last time that I'll be attending an event like this." Sophie said with a sigh.