Aurora sat still, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup, the perfume of jasmine lingering in the warm air of the garden. The silence between her and Mrs. Charlotte O'Brien stretched only a moment but it held weight. And when Aurora finally spoke, her voice was soft but certain.
"It was at Jeremy's club. I bumped into Jalen literally. He made a comment. About my attitude… and my dress. It wasn't vulgar, exactly, but…" she paused, eyes drifting toward a sculpture cloaked in morning shadows. "It felt like he was undressing me with words."
Charlotte listened quietly, her expression unreadable but her posture impossibly graceful.
"I didn't say anything," Aurora added. "I walked away. But it stuck. It shouldn't have, but it did."
Charlotte sighed, setting her cup down with precision. "I wish I could say I'm surprised, but I know Jalen too well."
Aurora looked up, surprised.
"Jalen is brilliant," Charlotte continued. "Driven. Charismatic in all the ways that matter. But emotionally? He treats women like cocktails easy to order, easier to forget."
Aurora let out a soft breath, half a chuckle.
Charlotte smiled sympathetically. "I've seen him with actresses, heiresses, art students, even a ballet dancer once. He never lets anyone too close. I keep hoping he'll grow out of it. That someone will break through and anchor him…"
Charlotte looked pointedly at Aurora.
"But I won't lie to you. That boy's heart is more guarded than Fort Knox."
They sat in thoughtful silence, nestled in the beauty of the O'Brien garden, until the sound of approaching footsteps pulled their attention.
Derek O'Brien emerged from the villa path, now dressed in a white linen button-up, open just enough at the chest to feel casual, paired with deep navy tailored trousers and suede loafers. He had an easy, clean-cut elegance about him broad shoulders, a strong jawline, and perfectly styled dark blond hair that fell just above sharp, intelligent eyes. He wasn't as dangerously magnetic as Jalen or as effortlessly charming as Jeremy, but Derek had a quiet confidence and grace that spoke of private schools, polite ruthlessness, and a deep sense of personal discipline.
One of the estate's butlers, already waiting, gracefully stepped forward and placed a mahogany garden chair beside the bench.
"Perfect timing," Charlotte said as Derek approached.
He smiled, giving her a light kiss on the cheek before nodding at Aurora. "Ladies."
He sank into the chair with ease, legs crossing casually, as he turned to his mother.
"Just a reminder, Mum Jalen's hosting that party this week. The Midnight Reverie. You promised to help me RSVP on the family's behalf."
Charlotte rolled her eyes fondly. "I remember. I'm not that old."
He chuckled. "I never said you were. But if you leave it to me, we'll be sending a fruit basket and a scented candle."
Charlotte looked at Aurora. "Have you heard about the event?"
Aurora nodded. "I've heard whispers. Sounds… extravagant."
"Oh, it'll be extravagant," Derek added. "Jalen only does grand. And dramatic."
Charlotte sighed again, her eyes flickering with something unreadable.
"Everything with Jalen is a performance," she said softly. "Even when he's trying to be sincere."
Aurora didn't say anything. But deep inside, a storm had started stirring again.
The warm breeze drifted lazily through the garden, sending the petals of a white peony bush fluttering like soft whispers. Aurora shifted slightly on the bench, still absorbing the weight of everything Mrs. Charlotte O'Brien had shared.
Charlotte tilted her teacup slightly, then set it down with finality.
"You must come to the party," she said, voice smooth and clear.
Aurora's brow lifted. "Oh I don't know about that."
"You'll enjoy it. Think of it as… an experience. A glimpse into the wildest corners of art and elegance."
Aurora smiled politely but shook her head. "I wouldn't even know what to wear to something like that."
Charlotte didn't skip a beat.
"Then we'll go shopping tomorrow."
Aurora blinked. "Wait what?"
"I know a tailor who could dress you like a Parisian debutante and a stylist who makes Vogue look basic," Charlotte said, already pulling out her phone.
Aurora laughed nervously. "Mrs. O'Brien, really, that's too—"
"She doesn't take no for an answer," Derek cut in from his seat, not even looking up. "Trust me. I tried once. I still ended up in a velvet tux at a wedding I wasn't invited to."
Charlotte grinned. "It would mean a lot to me if you came, Aurora."
Derek turned to her. "It'd be nice to see you there."
Aurora swallowed, the words lodging in her throat. She simply nodded.
Charlotte's eyes twinkled. "Now, Derek. Who are you bringing again?"
"My girlfriend," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. "Tanisha O'Neil."
Charlotte beamed. "Oh! How wonderful. How's she doing? And her parents?"
"Busy as ever. But she's good. She's excited about expanding her company's beauty tech line."
"She always was an ambitious one," Charlotte said with pride. "I must send her my regards."
As the conversation softened, Aurora stood, smoothing her blouse. "Thank you both for today. I should probably get going."
Charlotte rose with her, graceful as ever. "I'll walk you out."
Derek stood as well, pressing a quick button on a remote from his pocket. "I'll have the car brought around."
They walked slowly back through the marble hallway, Mr. Dennis following at a respectful distance.
"So," Charlotte said as they moved, "tomorrow morning then? We'll make a day of it."
Aurora smiled. "Yes, ma'am. And thank you for everything. The tea, the conversation, the invitation. I haven't felt that welcomed in a long time."
"You deserve to be seen," Charlotte said softly. "Not just as an artist, but as a woman."
Outside, the Rolls-Royce Ghost glided into the roundabout. The chauffeur stepped out and opened the door with perfect timing.
Aurora turned to them both, offering a hand first to Charlotte, then to Derek.
"I'll see you soon," she said warmly.
As the car door shut and the vehicle pulled away, Charlotte looked over at her son with a knowing smile.
"She's something special," she said.
Derek nodded. "She is."
(Later That Day – UCLA Campus Library)
Sunlight poured through the high windows of the university library, catching on the glass tables and the sleek silver laptops of students hard at work.
Chloe sat on the second floor beside the tall windows, flipping through her project notebook. She looked up to find Emery Stone approaching, carrying two iced coffees hers with oat milk and cinnamon.
"You remembered," she said, smiling as he sat.
"I'd forget my own name before forgetting your order," he replied with a shy grin.
They spread out sketches and mock-ups for their joint branding project, both lost in conversation about color palettes and logo symmetry. But as the pages turned, Emery grew noticeably quieter.
Chloe caught the shift.
"Okay," she said, closing her sketchbook. "Spill."
Emery ran a hand through his hair. "I was gonna text you this later, but… it felt weird not asking in person."
Chloe blinked. "Ask what?"
"I, uh… was wondering if you'd be my plus-one to The Midnight Reverie party."
Chloe froze.
"Oh wow. That's… fancy."
"I figured, since we've been spending time together, and you're clearly cooler than I am—"
"Yes."
Emery stopped. "Yeah?"
"Yes," Chloe repeated, laughing. "But only if you promise not to wear those weird flame-print socks again."
"They're limited edition."
"They're a crime."
They both laughed.
Emery stood, stretching slightly. "Wanna walk?"
They gathered their things and walked down the polished marble steps. As they reached the glass doors, he hesitated then gently took her hand.
Chloe didn't pull away.
Side by side, they strolled into the warm air of early evening.
"Can I take you for coffee?" he asked.
She nodded. "Only if I get to pick the place."
"Deal."
"There's this little spot in Silver Lake," she said. "Brew & Bloom. It's kinda my second home."
"Lead the way."
And just like that, the world slowed, sweetened by smiles and cinnamon foam.