Page 52 of His Red Carnation

“I don’t know. Guess you gotta wait and see.”

A couple of hours later, I slipped into a black, tight midi dress with spaghetti straps and a very low, lace-cupped bust. I paired it with tan, four-inch platform heels that strapped at the top. After applying my makeup and letting my hair fall in soft waves past my shoulders, I looked in the mirror and felt confident. My boobs had never looked better; I looked amazing.Callan is going to freak out, I thought with a smile.

I walked into the hallway to find Mom and Dad sitting in the yellow oval room with Leo and Julian. Mom looked stunning ina pink Louis Vuitton gown, and Dad even looked dapper in his suit. Everyone’s heads whipped around as they noticed me enter.

“Wow,” Mom announced with a smile.

“Sloane, sweetheart. You can’t wear that,” Dad immediately chimed in.

I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. Mom looked at Dad with a confused, bewildered expression.

“What? Why not?” she argued.

“She’s…” He trailed off, gesturing toward me. “That’s not appropriate for a young lady.”

Mom scoffed. “She looks very classy and beautiful and grown-up. Is it not appropriate because it makes you uncomfortable?”

Dad closed his eyes in irritation. “I didn’t say that. I just—”

“No,” she interrupted. “You’ve said enough.”

She waved him off like she was dismissing him. I wanted to hug her. She was always on my side, calling out sexist bullshit no matter who said it.

As if the tension in the room couldn’t get any thicker, Callan casually walked in looking incredibly hot. He wore a navy blue suit with a vest jacket, a white shirt, and a black tie. His hair was slicked back, and the side of his neck tattoo peeked out from his collar. I was dying to know what he was thinking as he took me in for a few seconds, eyeing me up and down, almost in a panic. He quickly blinked and turned to look at everyone else.

“Sorry if I’m late. Everything is good to go downstairs,” he said.

Mom and Dad remained silent, the tension palpable.

“Good. Let’s go,” Mom replied, standing up and leading the way.

I glanced back at Dad; he looked between Leo and Julian and nodded. I hurried after Mom and Callan, trying to catch up with her.

“Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry about earlier,” I whispered.

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, baby.” She smiled at me and took my hand as we walked down the stairs.

I glanced back at Callan and he winked at me. I giggled to myself, looking down at the steps.

“Take your time, baby. Your dad just doesn’t get it sometimes,” she said quietly, shaking her head.

I sighed with relief as we walked down to the state dining room. Callan quickly moved ahead of me and Mom, pulling the door open for us. Inside, the large dining room was filled with guests in their finest gowns and suits, chatting amongst themselves until they quieted at our entrance. The chandelier sparkled with shades of purple and pink, casting a warm glow across the room.

Several round tables filled the space, and a long rectangular table stood at the front. Callan guided us to that table, where guests had already filled one side. Mom took a seat in the middle, I sat down next to her, and Callan promptly settled beside me.

Callan leaned over and whispered into my ear. “You’re fucking killing me, baby.”

I smiled as I looked down at my plate and silverware. “That’s what I was going for,” I whispered back, biting my lip to hide my smile.

He sighed and looked around, then put his hand on my thigh. He gave it a tight squeeze but released his grip once the room grew silent as Dad walked in with Leo and Julian. The Norwegian Prime Minister, the guest of honor, stood up to greet our family as Dad approached the table, and the party had begun.

Callan took every opportunity to put his hand on me. When Dad got up to make a toast, I kept squirming under the touch of Callan’s palm as he softly caressed my thigh. I didn’t thinkanyone could sense what was going on underneath the table, but Mom nudged me with her arm as she glanced down at my lap, shaking her head.

“Too much,” she warned me, then looked over at Callan.

“Fuck. Sorry,” he muttered under his breath.

Everyone seemed to have a good time but all I could think about was what Callan and I would do once we left. My mind wandered to the strap-on we purchased in Berkeley. Would Callan really be into that? The idea ofmefucking Callan almost made my brain explode. How amazing would it be to be in control of Callan’s body, of his pleasure, dominating him in the way that I knew I could?

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