What Happens In Vegas | ✓

10 | the gala

Noah came to me this morning, practically demanding that we go as a couple to this huge gala for this art gallery in LA. He didn't seem too happy about going, and I briefly wondered if it was because he didn't want to go with me or for some other unknown reason. I brushed it off. 

I honestly didn't mind going. I couldn't pass up a few days in LA. I needed to get some new fabrics anyways. Thankfully I was also in between clients right now, so I allowed myself to have a little break from designing. 

The one thing I didn't like was that Noah and I would have to share a hotel room. I hoped there were separate beds. 

We were currently on Noah's private jet, a few minutes after takeoff. Noah was angrily typing away at his phone, his eyebrows tense. I rolled my eyes and went back to crocheting. Crocheting was something I picked up last year as a fun little side hobby. Of course, all I crocheted was clothes. I couldn't help myself. I was currently making a cropped v-neck tank top, and so far it was turning out pretty well. 

My eyes traveled back over to Noah. He had finally put down his phone and was looking out the window of the plane. He was sat across the aisle from me in a reclining chair. While I had made great use of the reclining function, Noah sat stiff and straight, almost like he was uncomfortable. 

"So, I think it would be in our best interest to come up with a story about how we met." I broke the silence. 

He looked over at me in surprise, like he had forgotten I was here. "Oh... right. Yeah that's probably a good idea."

"You know Valerie, right?" At his nod I continued. "I spoke to her and she said she'd be willing to be a part of the backstory to make it seem more legit. I was thinking that since we both know her, she could've set us up a while back."

Noah nodded. "Good. Smart. We can say we first met at the premiere for that movie she starred in. Trevor Road. You were there, right?"

I nodded, confused about how he knew that. I let it go. "That seems like a solid story."

Noah nodded once in agreement, and then we were once again consumed by silence. 

~*~

Noah and I walked briskly down the sidewalk, my heels clacking loudly on the concrete. I'm surprised no one has spotted us yet. The traffic from the gala caused our car to be stopped about a quarter mile away from the venue, so Noah and I were forced to walk if we wanted to make it in time before the doors closed. 

Apparently, this was a much bigger gala than I had thought. Of course, Noah being Noah, he didn't tell me a single word about the gala, except how formal I needed to dress. I had asked him for approval on my dress before we left earlier, but he had taken one look at me, clenched his jaw, and walked past me, saying that we had to leave now or else we'd be late. 

I wore a copper gown that had a sheer corset bodice. The dress hugged my hips before flowing to meet the ground. It was one shoulder, and that one shoulder was off shoulder, the satin fabric gently resting on my arm. 

Suffice to say, I looked hot and I knew it. 

But how could I not look hot when I'm wearing my own design?

I wore my dark hair pinned to one side, curled into old Hollywood style curls. I topped it off with some delicate jewelry, a pair of nude heels, and my favorite perfume. 

This was my second introduction into relative fame, and after the wedding photos were released and people raved about my dress, I knew I couldn't half ass this look. I had felt some pressure when I was packing for this trip. I was going back and forth on which dress I should take to wear and if it was extravagant enough without overdoing it. I had eventually stopped myself from getting too into my head and chose the dress I currently wore.