The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

This bar is upper-class and elegant, not like the clubs I frequented in the city and Camilla had been extremely strict about which outfit I put on for our evening. I’m in a fitted cocktail dress, black with subtle beading, hair straightened and sleek, and killer black stilettos to finish it all off. I look more like a girl in her mid-twenties than the baby faced one from this morning and the whole outfit makes me seem taller and somehow womanlier. I feel more in control, less roadkill, and this new confidence from my hair and clothes is helping me relax.

Camilla is already working the room with champagne in hand and dragging me along behind her like a pet puppy. I am completely out of my depth in this scene, despite having a family that frequents these kinds of places a lot. I have often been too young to go anywhere like this, or chosen not to, and I’m doing my utmost to act like I’m relaxed and casual about being here.

“Sophie, this is Malcolm, he’s a banker and a lush bit in the sack.” Camilla giggles, leaning in and whispering something provocative in the young man’s ear before pulling back and running a finger down his tie. Mostly all the men in here are wearing expensive suits and good tailoring, and everyone reeks of money. Surprisingly, Camilla seems well-known and I sort of smile shyly at him.

“Well hello, Sophie, a pleasure.” Malcolm is tall and blonde, but not overly handsome. He extends a hand to me, kissing the back of mine when I connect to shake it. Uncomfortable immediately, my gut saying something is off in this whole scene, but then I’ve never really been used to his class of party. I’ve avoided most charity events my family attend and prefer New York’s more urban nightlife to social niceties by the upper crust. Malcolm just gives me the creep vibes because, well, let’s face it... he’s male, and most men do that to me.

my glass in front of me to fold my arms across my chest and his eyes rest on the hint of cleavage I have on show. This isn’t an overly revealing dress but gives enough hints to be sexy, and despite dressing like a ‘cheap hooker’ in the past, according to Arrick, I’m more uncomfortable with Malcolm’s eyes trained on what little skin I am showing. Camilla knows how to dress for a reaction, and I

I called Arrick this afternoon, ended up in tears while taking a shower to get ready and spent a long-time mulling everything over in front of my vanity when applying my makeup. I hoped coming out would make me feel better, but I just feel dead inside. Somehow, telling him to never call me again seems more final than just dodging his calls. Really severing my connection to him,

Malcolm moves in closer, leaning into me as Camilla slides past him to talk to another man behind in the crowded bar and leaves me alone. I have zero interest in Malcolm, he isn’t even that charming, and I want to just move on out of here and go eat like she said we would. So far, we haven’t made it from the bar of this place, which seems

a little space, but he leans in further so I can

throws some killer parties and I would love to see you on the girl list.” He smiles in my face, the stench of booze hitting me hard

my voice to be heard over the crowd