Larissa's POV
Saturday morning greeted me with overcast skies and a message from Carson that made my pulse quicken: "Driver arrives at 5 PM. Dress down tonight. We'll stop at my apartment before heading out."
My phone felt heavy in my hands as I reread his words. Tonight marked the evening I would face his family. The Gary. The people who might one day become my relatives through this strange contract we'd signed.
"Damn it," I whispered, setting my phone aside on the granite countertop.
The entire day passed in a haze of nervous energy. I reorganized my already spotless apartment and fought against the urge to spiral into worst-case scenarios about what lay ahead. By four in the afternoon, I had bathed, styled my hair until it cooperated, and applied minimal cosmetics. Carson's instruction to dress casually had me staring helplessly at my wardrobe.
