The Gap Between Us

Elliot

I leaned back in my chair, twirling a pen between my fingers while Adrian's words replayed in my head.

"Don’t forget the gala next week. It’s not optional, Elliot. You need to be there."

I hated these events...overdressed crowds, empty conversations, and the constant pressure to appear polished and perfect. But this time, I saw an opportunity.

The idea had struck me mid-meeting earlier today. Watching Susan hold her ground, confidently pitching her ideas, I couldn't ignore the growing curiosity that had been gnawing at me since she re-entered my life. Inviting her to the gala wasn’t just about business...it was a chance to see her in a setting beyond conference rooms and presentations.

It wasn’t like I could call it a date. No, this was professional. She was consulting for my company. I had every reason to invite her...right?

Without overthinking it, I picked up my phone and dialed her number. It rang twice before her voice came through, clear and professional.

"This is Susan Hart."

"Susan, it’s Elliot."

A pause, just long enough for me to picture her narrowing her eyes at the caller ID before answering.

"Yes, Mr. Prescott?" she replied, her tone distant but polite.

"Are you free next Saturday evening?"

Another pause, longer this time. I could almost hear her brain working, trying to figure out my angle.

"Why do you ask?" she finally said, her voice cautious.

"There’s a gala I’m attending...business-related, of course. As one of our key consultants, I think it would be beneficial for you to join me. Networking opportunities, insights into our broader operations...you know how these things go."

Her hesitation was palpable, even over the phone.

"Are you asking, or is this an obligation?"

I smiled to myself. Classic Susan...always cutting through the fluff.

"Let’s call it a professional courtesy," I said smoothly. "But I’d appreciate it if you could make the time."

A long silence stretched between us, and I wondered if she’d find some clever way to decline.

"Alright," she finally said, her tone clipped. "If it’s for the company, I’ll be there."

"Excellent. I’ll have my assistant send you the details. Dress code is formal. Let me know if you need anything arranged."

"I’ll handle it," she said quickly, almost defensively.

"Good. I’ll see you then, Susan."

She didn’t bother with a goodbye before hanging up. I set the phone down and leaned back in my chair, a faint smile playing on my lips.

This was going to be interesting.

****

Susan

The moment I saw Elliot's name flashing on my phone screen, I hesitated. Why was he calling me now?

"This is Susan Hart," I answered, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.

"Susan, it’s Elliot."

His voice was calm and confident, as always, but that didn’t stop the subtle tension that gripped me every time I heard it.

"Yes, Mr. Prescott?" I replied, making a conscious effort to sound detached.

"Are you free next Saturday evening?"

What? Saturday evening? Why? I frowned, confused by his question.

"Why do you ask?"

"There’s a gala I’m attending...business-related, of course," he said, his tone too casual for my liking. "As one of our key consultants, I think it would be beneficial for you to join me. Networking opportunities, insights into our broader operations...you know how these things go."

A gala. Of course, it was about networking. It always was. But did he really need me there, or was this some elaborate test? Either way, I couldn’t afford to say no...not to him, not to a client of this magnitude.

"Are you asking, or is this an obligation?" I asked, hoping to gauge his intentions.

"Let’s call it a professional courtesy," he replied smoothly. "But I’d appreciate it if you could make the time."

I wanted to decline, to come up with some excuse, but the unspoken rules of this world...his world...left no room for that.

"Alright," I said, though the word tasted bitter. "If it’s for the company, I’ll be there."

"Excellent. I’ll have my assistant send you the details. Dress code is formal. Let me know if you need anything arranged."

Of course, he’d assume I might need "help." That infuriating Prescott arrogance hadn’t changed a bit.

"I’ll handle it," I said firmly, not wanting him to think I needed his assistance.

"Good. I’ll see you then, Susan," he said, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction.

I ended the call without another word, tossing my phone onto the desk and leaning back in my chair with a frustrated sigh.

A gala. With Elliot. Just what I needed.

The thought of spending an evening surrounded by polished socialites and corporate bigwigs was bad enough. Add Elliot to the mix, and it sounded like the perfect recipe for an anxiety-filled night.

But I couldn’t turn it down. Not now. Not when I was still trying to rebuild my career, one project at a time.

Forcing myself to focus, I grabbed my notebook and started jotting down what I’d need: a dress, shoes, and a game face strong enough to handle whatever the night would throw at me.

I couldn’t let Elliot Prescott get under my skin. Not again.

Susan- flashback

The invitation had been innocent enough. "Come home with me for Christmas," Elliot had said, his tone casual, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

It wasn’t.

I had never been to a family event like that before...certainly not one on Elliot's level. His family wasn’t just any family. They were the Prescotts. Wealthy, polished, and as far removed from my modest upbringing as you could get.

But I’d said yes, mostly because Elliot had looked at me with that confident smile of his, and I’d convinced myself it wouldn’t be that bad.

It was worse.

The moment we stepped into his parents’ sprawling estate, I felt like I’d stepped onto the set of a holiday movie where I didn’t belong. Glittering chandeliers cast a warm glow over the perfectly decorated space. A towering Christmas tree stood in the center of the living room, adorned with ornaments that probably cost more than my rent.

Elliot’s mother, Eleanor Prescott, swept into view, her red silk dress so perfectly tailored it looked like it was painted on. She kissed Elliot on the cheek, her gaze barely flickering to me before she said, "Darling, you’re late. Everyone’s waiting."

I wasn’t sure if "everyone" included me.

As the night went on, the feeling of being an outsider only grew. Elliot’s siblings...Adrian and Camille...were friendly enough, but they spoke in a shorthand I didn’t understand, full of inside jokes and shared memories. Elliot fit into the scene effortlessly, like he’d been born for it.

I, on the other hand, felt like an imposter in my borrowed dress and nervous smile.

The conversations were polite but distant. His mother introduced me as "Elliot’s friend," and I didn’t dare correct her. His father asked me about my studies and then quickly shifted the topic to Elliot’s plans, as though my future didn’t really matter.

At one point, I found myself alone by the fireplace, clutching a glass of champagne and wondering how much longer I had to endure.

"Hey," Elliot said softly, appearing at my side. "You okay?"

I forced a smile. "Of course. Your family’s lovely."

He frowned, clearly not buying it. "They can be...a lot. You don’t have to impress them, you know."

But I wanted to. For him.

"It’s fine," I said quickly. "Really."

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it either. Instead, he took my hand and led me toward the Christmas tree, where his sister Camille was arranging presents.

"Camille, have you met Susan yet?" he asked.

She looked up, her blue eyes sparkling. "Not properly." She offered me a smile and her hand. "Camille. I hope my brother isn’t being too insufferable."

I laughed nervously. "Not at all."

The conversation was short but pleasant enough, and for a moment, I felt like I might survive the night.

But then Eleanor reappeared, her gaze flicking between Elliot and me. "Elliot, darling, I need you to speak with your father about the New York deal. Susan, dear, feel free to mingle."

Mingle? With who?

Elliot gave me an apologetic look before disappearing into the crowd, leaving me stranded in a sea of people I didn’t know.

I wandered aimlessly, trying to look busy while avoiding the judgmental stares of women in designer dresses and men who barely noticed me. I overheard snippets of conversations about investments and holiday homes, none of which I could contribute to.

By the time Elliot found me again, I was ready to leave.

"You didn’t have to stay with me," I said when we finally got in the car.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Of course I did."

But even as he held my hand on the drive back to his apartment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong in his world. That no matter how hard I tried, I’d always be the girl from the wrong side of the tracks pretending to fit in.

And that night, for the first time, I wondered if loving Elliot Prescott would ever be enough to bridge the gap between us.