Perfect obsession || book 2

XIII - cracks in the facade

Cracks in the facade

Eira's pov

"I want to come over" I said as soon as Jasper picked up my call. "I need someone to be with at this moment, can I please come over" he hesitated until he replied in a whisper.

"I am at this stupid family get together, we can meet later one" I sighed. I opened my mouth to reply but I was cut off by a female voice.

"Don't stop her from coming over, invite her here" I think it was Amara at the other end. And I though it was better not to go over to their house because I will be out of place. "Here give me the phone I'll talk to her myself" it looks like Amara has shit PRO because she doesn't seem as arrogant as she is famous to be.

"Stop it Amara. I am not calling her over. In fact I am leaving myself. These get togethers are always so boring and stupid in the first place" a wave of relief washed over me, quickly followed by a surge of warmth.

"I know you are stupid Jasper but Eira isn't and she would interact perfectly with us. It is just that you have stopped-" she stopped talking mid sentence and cleared her throat as if she had voice something forbidden. "Eira, sorry, I am sending you the address and please come over. We would be pleased to meet you" her voice floated over to me.

A flicker of hesitation still flickered. What if I did stick out like a sore thumb? Would I be welcomed into their inner circle? Or would I fit in? Their money, their lifestyle, their manners, everything is so different from what I have ever experienced. But Amara's voice, tinged with an eagerness I hadn't expected, held a persuasive warmth.

Maybe, just maybe, their family gathering wouldn't be the stuffy, air-kissed charade I imagined. Maybe it could be a genuine human connection, a chance to forge friendships outside the confines of my own small circle.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the hesitation. "Alright, Amara. Send me the address. I'll be there."

As I hung up, a nervous buzz vibrated through me. I dug out a dress from the back of my closet, one that whispered confidence without screaming for attention. A quick swipe of mascara, a splash of my favorite perfume, and I was as ready as I would ever be.

The address led me to the most beautiful and expensive house I had ever seen. This is what you get from all the money Maroon has. Yes I googled Jasper the last minute and came to know about his family business. They own Maroon, the biggest clothing brand of our country.

And Amara has been their ambassador for the past few years. This only increased my nervousness. I did the breathing exercises but as my Uber continued to drive closer I was even more anxious.

The Uber pulled up to a sprawling stone mansion that looked like it belonged in a movie. Gated driveway, manicured lawns, and a fountain that gurgled merrily in the twilight. My throat constricted, and I fiddled with the strap of my purse, the leather suddenly feeling clammy against my skin.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my trembling legs out of the car. The driver gave me a sympathetic smile, probably used to seeing nervous partygoers at this address. With a final steadying breath, I walked towards the towering oak doors, their brass handles glinting in the dying light.

My hand hovered over the knocker, then rapped sharply against the wood. The sound echoed in the sudden stillness, and for a moment, I panicked, imagining the door swinging open to reveal a phalanx of disapproving eyes. But then, the heavy door creaked open, and there stood Amara.

She looked different from the photoshoots and magazine covers. No longer the airbrushed, aloof goddess, but a real person with a warm smile and kind eyes. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore a simple sundress that somehow managed to radiate understated elegance.