𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞 [COMPLETE]

𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟔𝟎 { Ballroom Gala }

"𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎'𝚍 𝚍𝚘."
~~~

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

After four consecutive sleepless nights of planning and worrying about this banquet, the night was finally here and I felt like throwing up today's breakfast.

I panic check over my list one final time, before crumbling the tiny piece of paper and throwing it in the nearest trash can.

"Hey, you!" I motion towards the last minute hire, I pulled an incredible amount of strings to get here tonight. He barely glances in my direction but we still make some form of eye contact. "Yes, you. I need you to look happy. Our rich guests don't want to be greeted with a sour face." I attempted to glare but the guard nearly doubled down in a fit of laughter at my scrunched brows and pursed lips. I roll my eyes, thinking that he got the message.

The waiters have begun making rounds for champagne. Check.

The photographer and DJ have already set up their respective equipment. Check.

The red ropes accompanying the carpet are velvet and not silk. That always seemed to be a rookie mistake. Check.

A waiter dressed in a white tuxedo walks past me with a platter of glasses half filled with champagne. Without as much as a second thought, I grab a glass and take a small sip, letting the cool liquid hydrate my dry throat.

"No, this is way too warm." I take a longer sip and confirm my suspicions. "Did you guys not purchase ice? I mean who drinks warm champagne. I need to speak with your supervisor and his supervisor." I grow more irritated when the waiter just stands there looking at me with a bewildered expression like he had no idea what I was talking about.

"Hey, hey, hey what's going on here?" Elliot's hand slides to the small of my back as he examines the situation. I don't miss the way his eyes travel down the length of my dress. He clears his throat and drags his stare back towards my face.

"Elliot, oh thank god you made it." I sigh. "Here, take a sip. I bring the glass to his lips and he refuses before I raise my brow in a convincing manner. With sheer intimidation masking his face, he gulps down the liquid in a matter of three short seconds. "Warm right? I specifically told the caterers to keep the drinks refrigerated until seven."

With just one look at my expression, Elliot softly shakes his head and places the glass back onto the waiter's platter muttering a few apologetic words.

"C'mere." He gently pulls my arm towards a secluded hallway and we enter one of many empty fitting rooms in this gorgeous venue.

Completely caught off guard, I tug my hand away as he locks the door behind us. "Wait, no—Elliot. I have a million things to look over before Rosalind gets here and the guests have already started arriving."

He grabs my hands that've been waving all over the place for and intertwined our fingers. "Just breathe, Sage. Everything looks perfect and none of this wouldn't have been possible without you. Rosalind can be picky all she wants but when I saw her walk in here. Sage, you should've seen the look on her face. I don't think she could've picked a better person to get all this done in just a week."

I gulp, looking behind his shoulder at the door blocking out all the light chatter and music. "She's here?"

Elliot silently nods and it gives me the opportunity to admire his formal fitted attire. The black on black suit and button down that's not fully buttoned to the collar does crazy things to my imagination. The slight stubble on his chin is gone and replaced with a cleanly shaven jawline that I'm not used to. His feet are covered in dress shoes and the golden jewelry accents around his neck and on his wrist pull the entire look together. All of a sudden my throat goes dry when I realize he's checking me out as well.