The Gala

The scent of perfume and fresh roses lingered in the air.

Lois stared at herself in the mirror.

Then immediately looked away.

The woman staring back didn't quite feel like her.

The dark blue dress skimmed her figure perfectly.

Soft fabric.

Simple elegance.

A thin silver detail at the waist.

Nothing flashy.

Nothing dramatic.

Yet somehow she barely recognized herself.

The dress belonged to Mrs. Kingston.

The bookstore owner had practically shoved it into her hands that morning.

"You are not attending a billionaire gala in that cardigan."

Lois laughed.

"I like that cardigan."

"It's older than you are."

The worst part was that Mrs. Kingston was probably right.

Now, standing alone in her tiny apartment, Lois smoothed her hands over the borrowed fabric.

Her stomach fluttered.

Not because of the gala.

Not really.

Because of Walter.

The invitation had arrived three days earlier.

Not through an assistant.

Not by email.

Walter had walked into the bookstore himself.

Pretending he needed another book recommendation.

Pretending he wasn't nervous.

Pretending she believed him.

Five minutes later, he'd mentioned the charity gala.

Very casually.

Far too casually.

"It's professional."

Those had been his exact words.

Professional.

The memory made her smile.

Nobody looked that uncomfortable over something professional.

Nobody spent ten minutes talking about books before asking.

Nobody avoided eye contact that carefully.

Yet neither of them challenged the excuse.

Professional was safe.

Professional asked for nothing.

Professional couldn't break your heart.

The buzzer downstairs sounded.

Lois's stomach immediately tightened.

Walter.

She grabbed her purse.

Took one final glance at the mirror.

Then left before she could lose her nerve.

----

Walter stood beside the car.

Waiting.

A terrible idea.

Waiting gave people time to think.

And Walter had spent most of the day thinking far more than he should.

He checked his watch.

Once.

Then again.

Then a third time.

His driver pretended not to notice.

The apartment door opened.

Walter looked up.

And forgot every thought he'd been having.

Lois stepped onto the sidewalk.

The city continued moving around them.

Cars passed.

People talked.

Music drifted from a nearby restaurant.

Walter heard none of it.

Because Lois looked...

Different.

Not because of the dress.

Not really.

Because she'd always been beautiful.

The dress simply made it impossible to ignore.

Her hair fell softly over one shoulder.

The dark blue brought warmth to her eyes.

She looked nervous.

And somehow that made her even more beautiful.

Walter immediately looked away.

Unfortunately, that didn't help.

The image remained.

Burned somewhere behind his ribs.

Lois reached him.

A small smile appeared.

"Hi."

Walter forgot how conversations worked.

Only briefly.

"You look..."

He stopped.

Lois lifted an eyebrow.

"I look what?"

Beautiful.

The answer arrived instantly.

Too instantly.

Beautiful.

Stunning.

Dangerous.

The kind of beautiful that made a grown man forget basic vocabulary.

Walter said none of those things.

Instead—

"Different."

Lois stared.

Then burst out laughing.

"Different?"

"It was the safest answer."

The honesty slipped out before he could stop it.

Lois's smile widened.

And Walter immediately realized that smile was becoming a problem.

"Thank you."

The words came softer this time.

Walter opened the car door.

His hand brushed the small of her back as she climbed inside.

Just a polite gesture.

Nothing unusual.

Yet his hand seemed strangely aware of it long afterward.

-----

The drive felt shorter than it should have.

Outside, Manhattan glittered beneath a sky filled with city lights.

Inside, a comfortable silence settled between them.

Walter loosened his tie slightly.

Lois noticed.

The discovery surprised her.

Until now she'd never really considered that Walter might get nervous too.

The realization made something warm bloom inside her chest.

"You never told me what the charity supports."

Walter glanced over.

Safer territory.

"Children's literacy programs."

Lois blinked.

"What?"

Walter frowned.

"What?"

"I don't know."

She laughed.

"I expected billionaires to donate to museums."

"We do."

"Opera houses?"

"We do that too."

She smiled.

"But tonight is books."

Walter nodded.

"Tonight is books."

The smile that spread across her face could've powered half the city.

Walter looked away.

Far too late.

-----

The ballroom looked like something from a movie.

Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead.

Music floated through the air.

Guests moved between tables dressed in gowns and tailored suits.

Everything shimmered.

Everything gleamed.

Everything felt expensive.

Lois suddenly became very aware that her dress was borrowed.

Walter noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

"You belong here."

The certainty in his voice surprised her.

Walter rarely sounded certain about people.

Business?

Always.

People?

Never.

Before she could respond, guests began approaching.

One after another.

Investors.

Politicians.

Executives.

Socialites.

Everyone seemed to know Walter.

Everyone wanted something from him.

Yet throughout every conversation, Walter did something strange.

Something small.

Something easy to miss.

He never left her behind.

Every introduction included her.

Every conversation made room for her.

Whenever a group became too crowded, he subtly moved closer.

As though making sure she wasn't standing alone.

The gestures were tiny.

Almost invisible.

Yet Lois noticed every one of them.

Because nobody had ever made a room feel safer simply by standing nearby.

-----

Hours passed.

Speeches.

Donations.

Auctions.

Conversations.

Then the music changed.

Slower.

Softer.

The dance floor began filling.

Lois immediately became fascinated by her water glass.

A survival strategy.

An unsuccessful one.

Because Walter appeared beside her anyway.

"Lois."

Her stomach betrayed her immediately.

"Yes?"

Walter held out his hand.

The gesture looked simple.

It wasn't.

Nothing about this felt simple anymore.

"Dance with me."

Lois stared at his hand.

Then at him.

Then back at the hand.

Hope tried to rise inside her.

She pushed it down.

Professional.

Remember?

Professional.

"You know this isn't helping your argument."

"What argument?"

"That this isn't a date."

Walter laughed softly.

The sound did ridiculous things to her heartbeat.

Then he said the one thing capable of completely destroying her ability to think.

"Lois."

Just her name.

Nothing more.

Yet somehow it sounded like an answer.

Slowly, she placed her hand in his.

-----

The world changed the moment he pulled her onto the dance floor.

Not dramatically.

Quietly.

Like a door opening.

Walter's hand settled carefully at her waist.

Lois rested her hand against his shoulder.

Close.

Not too close.

Close enough.

The orchestra played softly.

The ballroom blurred.

Around them, hundreds of people danced.

Neither noticed.

Because suddenly every detail felt sharper.

The warmth of her hand.

The scent of her perfume.

The loose strand of hair brushing her cheek.

Walter wanted to tuck it behind her ear.

The thought startled him enough that he looked away.

Lois felt his heartbeat beneath her palm.

Steady.

Mostly.

Except whenever their eyes met.

Then it wasn't.

The realization shouldn't have made her happy.

It did.

Neither spoke.

Neither needed to.

For once, silence felt full.

Comfortable.

Alive.

Walter looked down at her.

Lois looked up.

And for a moment everything else disappeared.

The music.

The ballroom.

The people.

Gone.

There was only this.

The question she'd asked weeks ago returned unexpectedly.

When was the last time you let yourself be happy?

Walter finally knew the answer.

Right now.

Standing here.

Holding her.

The realization terrified him.

Because happiness had a cost.

And Walter already knew what it felt like to lose it.

Lois watched something change in his eyes.

Not completely.

Just enough.

Enough to make her chest tighten.

Enough to make her wonder if he was thinking the same thing she was.

Neither moved.

Neither looked away.

The moment stretched.

Fragile.

Honest.

Dangerously real.

And for one impossible second, Lois thought he might kiss her.

Not because he leaned closer.

Not because he said anything.

Because of the way he was looking at her.

Like she mattered.

Like she was becoming something precious.

Something rare.

Something he wasn't sure he deserved.

Walter looked away first.

The spell broke.

The ballroom returned.

The music continued.

Neither mentioned it.

Neither could.

Some moments became smaller the second you put words around them.

This wasn't one of those moments.

This one felt too important.

The song ended.

Applause followed.

Walter released her hand.

Slowly.

Reluctantly.

Lois immediately missed the warmth.

Neither acknowledged it.

Some lies are easier when you tell them to yourself.

Around them, the gala continued.

Glasses clinked.

People laughed.

The city sparkled beyond towering windows.

Yet neither moved away immediately.

One second.

Then another.

Then another.

Walter cleared his throat.

The sound felt strangely loud.

"Thank you for coming."

Lois smiled.

The soft smile.

The one he carried home afterward.

"Thank you for asking."

Another song began.

Neither stepped onto the dance floor.

Neither stepped away.

And standing beneath crystal lights, surrounded by hundreds of people, one question settled quietly between them.

If this wasn't a date...

Why did it feel so much like one?