Beneath the Noise

A Table for Two

"Behind every staged moment, there's a truth waiting to be uncovered."

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Raina's pov

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my hands gripping the edge of the vanity. The soft glow of the lights illuminated every detail-my carefully styled hair, the sweep of eyeliner, and the deep crimson lipstick Ava had insisted I wear. The dress I wore was sleek and bold: black, one-shouldered, with a thigh-high slit that revealed just enough to make a statement. Its smooth fabric shimmered faintly under the light, the perfect balance of elegance and allure.

The staged dinner plan had been Carter's brainchild. "It's the perfect way to introduce the relationship," he'd declared confidently. "Intimate enough to look real, but public enough to grab attention." I hadn't been sold on the idea, but Ava had agreed, and Gabriel, as usual, had offered no objections. Now, all I could do was make sure it didn't backfire.

"You look stunning," Ava said, her voice cutting through the quiet. She stood behind me, arms crossed, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. "If Gabriel doesn't fall to his knees when he sees you, he's officially made of ice."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not about Gabriel. It's about the cameras."

Ava arched a brow, her smirk growing. "Right. The cameras. Sure, that's why you've been reapplying that lipstick for the last ten minutes."

"It's not my fault you picked the most high-maintenance color," I muttered, grabbing my clutch from the dresser. My reflection stared back at me, polished and unrecognizable.

Ava softened, stepping closer and resting a hand on my shoulder. "You've got this, Raina. Just remember-you're in control of this whole thing. Not him. Not the media. You."

Her words settled in my chest, grounding me. I gave her a small smile. "Thanks, Ava. But let's just get this over with before I lose my nerve."

The car ride to the restaurant was a blur of nerves and half-hearted rehearsals. How to smile for the paparazzi without looking too eager. How to lean in just enough without giving away the act. By the time we pulled up to the upscale Italian restaurant, my pulse was pounding in my ears.

Gabriel was already waiting, leaning casually against the sleek black car parked out front. He was every bit the image of effortless sophistication in a tailored navy suit, his tie slightly loosened as if to say, I don't need to try. The golden glow of the streetlights danced across his sharp jawline, casting shadows that made him look like he'd walked out of a magazine spread.

"Raina," he greeted, his voice smooth and low as he opened my door.

"Gabriel," I replied, stepping out with all the poise I could muster.

"You're late," he said, his lips twitching in what might have been amusement.

"And you're predictable," I shot back, brushing past him.

He caught up quickly, his long strides matching mine as we entered the restaurant. The maître d' greeted us with the kind of reverence reserved for royalty and led us to a secluded table by the window. From the corner of my eye, I spotted the faint glint of cameras outside. They were already here, their lenses trained on us like vultures circling prey.

Gabriel pulled out my chair, his movements smooth and practiced. "For the cameras," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I sat down, determined not to let him see how his closeness affected me. The candlelight between us flickered, casting shadows that made him look even more enigmatic.

"So," I began, forcing a casual tone as I unfolded my napkin. "How do we play this?"

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. "Simple. We smile, we laugh, and we look like we're falling for each other. The rest will take care of itself."