Daisy's father said, and she herself agreed, that the Weasleys were one peculiar bunch.
They weren't as affluent, sociable, and affable as her other neighbours. They never came to the local kids' birthdays, they never invited the local kids to their...
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THE REASON WHY Mr. Allen didn't aim for Daisy's hand, leg, or face last time was because of tonight. The gathering.
She needed to shine and look presentable in front of his esteemed guests.
"Will you be there?" Daisy asked Lucy, who was braiding her hair, through the mirror.
"I think so. I have a dress ready, the special one Master Allen tailored just for today."
"Ten guests... I know Mr. DeVere is coming with his wife and only child. That only makes three."
"I think your two neighbors are coming," Lucy quipped, "They mentioned it to me when they walked past the Residence a few days ago."
"Two? Atlas and Dominic?"
"No, Atlas and Marisol."
"Marisol? You're not saying Marisol Louvre?"
"Yes, but we won't know until they actually come. Which is..." Lucy tilted her head, eyeing her wristwatch, "In five minutes. Let's get you downstairs before Master finds another reason to act like ninjas."
Daisy smiled at that.
She let Lucy brushed unseen dust off her pale pink dress one last time before she head to the main door. Mr. Allen was already there, pacing, looking sharp in his wrinkle-free suit. When he heard her approaching footsteps, he turned around and nodded approvingly at her appearance.
"Thank you for the lovely dress, Father."
He didn't reply.
She stood between him and the rows of maids in a poised manner, waiting patiently for the bell to ring.
When it finally did, Mr. Allen immediately head to the door and opened it, beaming. "Evening, everyone! Deacon!"
Lucy was right.
Atlas was there, looking handsome in his suit and tie. He had shaved, Daisy noted, and he looked more charming without his growing stubbles. He waved at her, smiling, and she returned it while nodding her head in polite acknowledgement.
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