11. Sally

“It’s not a real date.”

That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway. Because it’s not. It’s not a real date, real relationship, real affection–and therefore I don’t feel real anxiety.

Then why does my reflection look so nervous?

Adjusting the fit of my best dress, the fabric hugging my figure elegantly like a second skin, I take a moment to appreciate the way it flatters my curves. The deep blue hue is soothing, a touch of reassurance against the backdrop of uncertainty that lingers in my mind.

As I move on to apply makeup, each stroke deliberate and precise, I take extra care with every detail. The soft glow of the vanity lights reflects off my features, highlighting the subtle changes in my expression. My hands move with a practiced grace, a ritual of preparation that belies the flutter of butterflies in my stomach.

The lipstick glides smoothly over my lips, a bold shade of red that exudes confidence, or so I hope. I study my reflection in the mirror, searching for a glimpse of the resolve I so desperately seek. Instead, I find the reflection of a woman on the brink of something unknown, her eyes betraying a hint of nervousness that she tries to mask.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the faint scent of my perfume, a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood. It”s a small comfort, but it helps to steady my nerves. I square my shoulders and remind myself that this is just a business meeting, nothing more.

A business meeting with a handsome orc who I’m planning on marrying. I decide to shove those thoughts as far back as I can.

But as I approach the entrance of the restaurant, I can”t help but feel a pang of hesitation. The soft light from within casts a warm glow on the sidewalk outside, and I can see Drakar sitting at a table near the window. His dark hair is slicked back, and he”s wearing a tailored suit that fits him like a glove. He”s leaning back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, and he”s watching the door with an expectant gaze.

I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should turn back. But then I remember the reason I agreed to this meeting in the first place. I can”t let my nerves get the better of me.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step inside. The restaurant is dimly lit, with flickering candles casting shadows on the walls. The air is filled with the rich aroma of expensive wine and expertly prepared cuisine. It”s the kind of place where every detail is carefully planned and executed, and I can feel the weight of expectation pressing down on me.

The moment he sees me, a subtle shift in his demeanor occurs. His eyes soften, and he gets up from his chair, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

I feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach as I make my way over to him. He pulls out my chair for me, and I take a seat, feeling the warmth of his hand on my shoulder as he pushes me in.

”You look beautiful,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

I blush, feeling suddenly self-conscious. ”Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.”

Drakar chuckles, a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. ”Well, I do try.”

We make small talk for a few minutes, discussing the weather and the latest news. But I can feel the tension building between us, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

“So,” I murmur, fiddling with my silverware. “Tell me about your family. What are they like?”

He hesitates for a moment before responding, and I can tell that there”s more to his story than meets the eye.

”They’re good people, despite what I said about not having much of a childhood,” he says, his voice quiet and measured. ”My parents aren’t perfect, but they really did try their best. The circumstances for them were very hard, and we all did what we had to do. It wasn’t a storybook life, though, that’s for sure.”

I feel a pang of sympathy in my chest, and I reach across the table to take his hand. ”I”m so sorry, Drakar. That must have been incredibly difficult.”

He nods, his eyes downcast for a moment before he looks back up at me. ”It was tough, but it also made me who I am today. I had to work hard to get where I am, and I”m proud of what I”ve accomplished.”

I can see the determination in his gaze, the fire that drives him to succeed. ”You should be,” I say, smiling at him. ”You”re a self-made billionaire, after all.”

He chuckles, a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. ”I suppose I am. But it wasn”t easy. I had to make a lot of sacrifices along the way, and there were times when I wasn”t sure I was going to make it.”

“But you did,” I say, as if he needs me to tell him that.

His response is a curt nod. “What about your family?”

Biting back a sigh, I smile warmly across the table. “Well, you’re already aware of my father’s condition,” I remind him. “But my mom… She”s always had to be strong,” I say, my voice quiet and reflective. ”My father has been sickly for most of his life, and she”s had to carry the weight of taking care of him and raising me and my siblings.”

Drakar nods, his eyes full of understanding. ”That must have been difficult for her.”

”It was,” I reply, taking a sip of the wine that the waiter has poured while I’ve been talking. ”But she”s an amazing woman. She never complained, never let us see how much it was weighing on her. She just kept going, day after day, no matter what.”

I can see the admiration in Drakar”s eyes, and it makes me feel proud to be my mother”s daughter. ”She sounds like an incredible woman,” he says.

”She is,” I reply, smiling at the thought of her. ”She”s always been my rock, my source of strength. I don”t know what I would do without her.”

As we finish our main course and the waiter clears our plates, I can feel a sense of anticipation building in the air. Sure enough, just as the dessert menu is presented, Drakar reaches under the table and pulls out a small, velvet ring box. I feel my heart skip a beat as he places it on the table in front of me.

”Sally Harte,” he says, his voice projecting through the restaurant for all to hear. ”I’ve come to the point where I can’t imagine my life without you. Without your laughter, your smile, or your kind and passionate heart.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. This is all part of the act, I remind myself. But that doesn”t stop the butterflies from swirling in my stomach.

Drakar continues, his eyes never leaving mine. ”I”ve loved you for years, ever since we first met. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

It”s a beautiful speech, and I can feel the sincerity in his words. But I know that it”s all manufactured, all part of the plan to convince the world that we”re truly in love.

“Be my wife,” he says at last, earning a chorus of ‘awwing’ from our audience.

I take the ring box from him, my hands shaking slightly as I open it. Inside is a stunning diamond ring, sparkling in the soft glow of the restaurant”s lights.

”It”s beautiful,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Drakar smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. ”It”s not as beautiful as you are, my love.”

I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks as he takes my hand and kisses it. The feeling of his lips against my hands, even if it’s all for show, forces my heart up into my throat.

As we pull away, I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. It’s not real, I remind myself again. But it”s hard not to get swept up in the moment, to feel like this is all real.

“So?” He takes the ring out of the box and holds it at the tip of my ring finger.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

I try my best to put some love and affection in my tone, but I only end up sounding breathless.

As Drakar slides the ring onto my finger, I feel a shiver of excitement run down my spine. The restaurant erupts into cheers and applause, and I can feel my face flush with embarrassment and joy.

Drakar stands up, raising his glass in a toast. ”To our future together,” he says, his voice loud and clear. ”May it be filled with love, laughter, and happiness.”

The restaurant cheers again, and I can feel the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders.

Once things have calmed down, Drakar and I make our way out of the restaurant, hand in hand. As we step out into the cool night air, he turns to me with a serious expression.

”Are you ready for the next part of our plan?” he asks, his voice low and intense.

I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of determination wash over me. ”Yes,” I say, my voice steady and strong. ”Are you?”

Drakar nods, his eyes filled with gratitude. ”Don’t worry, I’m more than ready to meet your family. They won’t notice a thing.”

We make our way to his car, and he opens the door for me, his hand lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.

Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t going to turn out like we expect it to?