When Abigail and Luna returned to the venue, they were just in time for the grand ball. Luna wasted no time, ushering Abigail into the thick of the crowd, making sure she didn’t have a moment to relax.
While Abigail had been altering Joan’s dress, she had nearly plucked all the feathers from her own gown, revealing the intricate dark patterns beneath. The effect made her look even more enigmatic. With her naturally beautiful face and a figure that seemed sculpted by the gods, especially her impossibly slender waist, Abigail drew many admiring gazes as she entered the ballroom.
A man, clearly captivated by her, approached her with a charming smile. “Miss, may I invite you to dance?”
Abigail was about to politely decline when she noticed the intense glare Luna was sending her way. Quickly, she shifted her stance, smiling and responding, “Of course.”
The man led her to the dance floor. As they moved, his hand lightly brushed the small of her back, a courteous gesture considering her halter dress. However, Abigail couldn’t shake off the discomfort. She hadn’t danced with another man in years, not since her marriage to Sean. Her nerves made the moment feel awkward.
Trying to fill the silence, the man started a casual conversation. “Your dress is stunning,” he said.
“Thank you,” Abigail replied, smiling. “It’s a design by Alana from L.Moon. If your girlfriend is interested, I can arrange an appointment for you.”
The man’s eyes glinted with interest, and without warning, he moved his hand from her shoulder to her waist, touching her bare skin. Immediately, Abigail recoiled, feeling the unwanted pressure of his palm. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice sharp.
Her shout attracted the attention of nearby guests, many turning to look at the unfolding scene. The man, caught off guard by her reaction, scowled. “We’re just dancing. Why are you making such a fuss? Didn’t your company train you for social dancing?”
In that moment, Abigail realized the man had mistaken her for an actress or model from an entertainment company and was trying to take advantage of her. She scoffed, not backing down. “My company trained me in social dances, but that only applies to humans, not animals.”
The man muttered curses under his breath and reached for her again. Before he could touch her, a firm hand seized his wrist. “Mr. Scott, I believe many people are watching. It’s inappropriate to behave like this in public,” a voice interjected, filled with authority.
Abigail’s eyes shifted, and she saw Kevin standing there, his grip tight on the man’s arm. When Troy Scott realized who had intervened, his anger quickly fizzled out. He turned his gaze toward Abigail, his expression curious. “Your woman?”
Kevin couldn’t help but reprimand Troy for his stupidity, knowing that if Sean heard his words, Troy would be in serious trouble. But instead of scolding him further, Kevin smiled politely at Troy. “Nonsense. She’s just a friend.”
At that, Troy smiled back, realizing his mistake. “Ah, Mr. Stewart’s friend. My apologies. Let’s talk again next time.” With a final, respectful gesture, he backed off.
Kevin led Abigail off the dance floor, a protective air around him. “How did you end up entangled with him?” he asked.
Abigail, still rubbing her waist with a look of distaste, explained, “He invited me to dance and got too touchy. Who is he?”
Kevin glanced at Troy’s retreating figure, his displeasure evident. “The second son of the Scott family. He’s… not someone you want to get close to. Just stay away from him.”
His eyes then shifted to Joan’s outfit, an appreciative glint in them. “Is this dress your…?” Kevin almost slipped up, but quickly corrected himself, “Your boss’s new design?”
Without hesitation, Abigail responded, a hint of pride in her voice, “Of course! Don’t you think you’re getting a great deal by signing that contract?”
Kevin, impressed by the boldness of the design, nodded. Initially, he had only heard about ‘Alana’ through his assistant’s praises, but now, seeing Abigail in the dress, he could see the buzz was justified. The craftsmanship, the aesthetic, everything about it rivaled well-known luxury brands.
The only obstacle L.Moon had was its size—it was still a relatively small company, unexposed at major events, and its marketing was too private. But Kevin couldn’t help but feel that Abigail, or rather Alana, had the potential to break through.
“Abigail, are you interested in making L.Moon an international exclusive couture brand?” Kevin asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.
Abigail’s heart skipped a beat. It was not just Luna’s dream—it was hers as well. They had built their brand from scratch, relying on premium quality and an impeccable reputation. But with Kevin’s resources, they could rise to new heights. However, Abigail knew that getting resources and forming a partnership were two different things. A partnership would require a fair exchange of benefits, while resources were about creating value.
Her eyes sparkled as she raised an eyebrow, suppressing her emotions. She took a sip of water before responding, “I’m just an assistant.”
Kevin smiled, clearly intrigued. “Then, are you interested in becoming an assistant to an internationally known, exclusive fashion designer?”
Abigail casually rubbed her hand around her glass, a playful smile on her lips. “What’s this? Are you trying to poach me?”
Kevin chuckled, shaking his head. “I dare not. Actually, our company is preparing for an entertainment show, Top Designer, aimed at educating the public about fashion design and modeling. We’d love for Alana to participate.”
The Top Designer show was renowned, the best of its kind. If L.Moon could participate, Luna could finally stop struggling to find resources, and their studio would make a giant leap forward. Just thinking about it made Abigail’s heart race with excitement.
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