Her Suited Savior

Chapter 8

Calla Stewart's POV

When we pulled up to the location, the street was quiet. We were at an older building downtown. The outside had the look of classic architecture, with intricate carvings around each window and edge. 

The driver opened the door and I scooted out of the limo as gracefully as I could manage. Mr. King exited behind me, then stood up straight with a confident posture, smoothing out the suit he wore. He looked at me after a second, while I waited for instructions on the what I needed to do tonight. 

Mr. King cleared his throat, "Ms. Stewart, look at me," he commanded.

Startled by his demand, my usually downcast eyes met his and he began to speak, holding my gaze, "Tonight is an important event. There are investors and partners of my company attending and it is imperative I represent myself well. I want you to remain quiet unless spoken to, but you need to pay attention and take note of anything of importance said," he instructed.

"Yes, sir," I said without hesitation.

I was glad I wasn't expected to make small talk and converse with all of these people. I already felt nervous knowing I would be walking into a crowd of strangers, but knowing my role eased a bit of my stress. 

My boss nodded in approval and spoke again, "Stay by me at all times and do not answer any questions about me or my company if you are separated from me unless you want to be fired. Understood?"

"Understood," I confirmed.

"Then let's go," he said holding his arm out for me to take.

I approached him and wrapped my hand around his arm carefully. I felt like I was going to some kind of a ball.

We approached the entrance of the building, someone was there to open the door for us and I smiled at him in thanks as we walked through. We entered into a grand lobby area but were quickly led by another man to the room where the event was being held before I could take it in.

The doors to the large event hall were kept open, allowing people to come and go as they pleased. However, security was stationed on either side to ensure nobody that wasn't meant to be here got in.

Mr. King's face was impassive as we entered, showing no sign of emotion. I, on the other hand, was immediately gaping at the sight before me. People were gathered in their formal wear all around the room, talking and laughing. Tables were set up along the outside, covered with thick white tablecloths and each holding an extravagant bouquet of flowers. Toward the back of the room, long tables of various desserts and appetizers stood barely touched, while men and women also walked around the room serving champagne.

The hardwood flooring was polished to perfection, reflecting the light from the beautiful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It felt like I was in an 18th-century ballroom with all of the elegant crown moulding and gold accents. 

It was absolutely magical. 

I could have spent hours taking in every detail of the beautiful room but was quickly drawn out of my admiration by Mr. King, who began to lead me further into the room. Immediately, guests took notice of my boss, and businessmen and women began to prepare to approach him. 

A young waitress swooped in with a tray of champagne, politely offering it to Mr. King, who grabbed two flutes of the sparkling liquid. He handed one to me, which I accepted with a slight smile. Although I did not plan to drink it, I didn't want to embarrass Mr. King by refusing to take a simple drink.

I held the drink in the hand that wasn't holding my boss's arm and stood quietly as people began to approach and introduce themselves. Mr. King somehow knew every person's name and addressed them each when they came to say hello.