Seven Twenty-Eight

34.

She smiled, tugging away from the hug to hold onto his hand, feeling the tension between the two boys. "This dress is magical," She told him, reaching up to twist one of his curls over her finger.

"You look magical," He breathed out, exploring the fabric of her midsection with his hands, "I know you'd look amazing but this is— You look breathtaking."

Jackson cleared his throat, causing Oliver to glance up at him through his eyelashes. "Happy birthday, Ol."

"Thanks," Oliver retorted dryly, interlacing his fingers with Elisa's, tugging gently to turn her around, "Come on, baby, I have a surprise for you."

"More surprises?" She muttered, glancing guiltily back at Jackson as he dragged her away, "This is too much-"

"Nonsense," He smiled down at her sweetly, pulling her closer to wrap his arm around her waist, "The night hasn't even started."

She peered up at him, glancing back and forth between him and their path. "Cake is after seven?"

"Is Mary spoiling my plans?" He sighed, not taking his eyes away from their apparent destination.

Elisa bit her bottom lip, "I told Jackson I'd meet him. He wants to talk."

He stared down at her for a moment, letting a few people bump into him, "What about?"

"It's personal," She responded, slipping herself away from a small crowd of people coming toward them.

He grunted, "Personal."

"A personal thing for him," She reiterated.

Oliver grumbled to himself about the state of her relationship with Jackson, and halted in place in the middle of the growing crowd. "Where?"

"My room— With the door open," She noted, cocking an eyebrow at him, "Send who you want, but no spying, it's-"

"Personal," He repeated, flaring his nostrils in frustration.

She smiled weakly, tugging at the collar of his suit, "Exactly."

"I can give you ten minutes-"

"More-"

"Fifteen-"

She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him.

"Cake is at seven-thirty," He frowned.

"Twenty," She finalized.

Oliver nodded in agreement.

"Trust," She reminded him, tilting her head to the side.

"Trust," He repeated, smiling weakly, "I trust you, not him."

"Trust that I trust him," She told him, holding his chin in her fingers.

He nodded, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Mister Reynolds?"

They both turned to find a nervous looking woman standing there awkwardly.

"For you, sir," She told him with a weak smile.

"Is that it?" He grinned, taking a small box from her hand.

She nodded, racing to open the box for him.

Elisa's mouth opened in a silent gasp. "Oh my God."

Oliver smiled over at her, handing the box back to the woman to cautiously pull out a diamond encrusted tiara.

"Okay, this is too much," She told him, taking a step away, "Oliver-"

"Don't worry, most of them are fake," He told her, gently pulling her closer to him, "The real thing didn't fit into my budget."