The President's House was a sprawling Georgian mansion on the edge of campus, glowing with warm light against the night sky. Valets were parking Bentleys and Mercedes.
I didn't take a town car this time. I took an Uber Black. It was understated, professional.
I stood at the bottom of the stone steps, checking my watch. 6:58 PM.
At exactly 7:00 PM, a sleek silver Audi pulled up. The back door opened, and Elena Vance stepped out.
She was breathtaking.
She wore a deep burgundy gown that matched the tie I had chosen perfectly. It was velvet, off-the-shoulder, and clung to her figure in a way that was both elegant and devastating. Her hair was down tonight, cascading in loose waves over one shoulder.
She looked like a queen arriving at court.
I walked forward to meet her.
"Elena," I said, offering my arm.
She took it, her grip firm. Her eyes scanned me instantly, starting at my shoes and moving up to my face.
She stopped at the suit.
