“I want you to have this.”
The paper felt heavier than it should have, like it carried intent rather than ink.
“It’s an invitation,” he continued. “A charity gala next week. The most exclusive event of the season.” He paused, watching her reaction. “I thought it might be… educational for you. To see how successful people live.”
The words were smooth. The meaning was sharp.
Patricia swallowed. “Sir, I don’t understand why—”
Sebastián leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make the moment personal.
“It’s formal,” he added. “Very formal. Floor-length gowns. Proper etiquette.” His smile curved slightly. “I’m sure you’ll manage something… appropriate.”
Then he walked away, leaving her alone with the envelope and the sudden weight of being seen in the wrong way.
She read the details slowly. A dinner that cost more than her yearly rent. An auction with starting bids she couldn’t pronounce without laughing. Rules of behavior that felt like commandments written for a different species.
That’s when it hit her.
This wasn’t an invitation.
