My Little Step Secret

"Francine, you are right on time. How was the traffic?" Her father greeted her, pulling her in closer and placing a small peck on her cheek. Francine Godfrey, Frankie, warmly smiled at her father, Alistair Godfrey. This was their first time seeing each other since she returned to the city from college. Summer break was just starting and her father demanded she come home to catch up with him, roping her in with a tale of exciting news to share. "The traffic was terrible, of course, though Adam, made the ride bearable. Thank goodness." Adam was one of her father's drivers. He has worked for the Godfreys for over 20 years now, living in the Godfrey mansion. Adam is around 40 now, having worked for Frankie's father since he first got his driver's licence at 19, a little later than most, as most teens obtain theirs as soon as they hit 17. Frankie cannot remember a time that Adam has not been around, she can not so much as remember him taking a holiday, though she's sure he must have. "I never doubted him. He was pleased to hear you requested him directly." Frankie smiled. She had always felt safe with Adam, he was never inappropriate, and he was good at balancing professionalism and relatability. His ability to do this has helped secure him a job and a home for the past 20 years, the longest of our employees, with the exception of Miss Maria Marwright, the lead housekeeper. She was well into her 70s now and originally employed by Frankie's late grandfather, Alistair's father. Alistair looked at his brand new Rolex watch with deliberate intent. "You have a room upstairs rebooked, a dress, and accessories already laid out for you. Go get changed out of that, the event starts in 20 minutes. Do not be late." His voice remained upbeat, though Frankie knew there was no point in arguing, this was not a request. He allows her to dress herself any way she sees fit. However, in events such as these, she is expected to look a certain way, expected to hold herself to the standards expected for someone of her stature. Frankie wasted no time getting to her room, rushing yet appearing completely in control. She knew people would whisper about her tardiness if she was late. The elevator took longer than she would have liked to get her to the penthouse suite. As always, she was provided accommodation in the left wing. She could hear the sounds of celebrations, glasses clinking, and cheery conversations, coming from the rooftop event. Time was short, Frankie quickly undressed, kicking off her pumps and tossing her brown leather jacket, t-shirt, jeans, and underwear into a pile on the floor, all while she was quickstepping to the bathroom. She did not have time to wait for the water to heat up as she stepped into the shower. A gasp escaped her as the shock of the cold water hit her skin, thankfully rapidly shifting to a warmer temperature. The shower enclosure is filled with the luxurious scent of the body wash, it smells like a spa, ylang-ylang and tangerine, her body relaxes for a brief moment as she washes, not wanting to leave the soothing waters. Reluctantly, and with some effort, she pulled herself from the shower, into the cool air of the suite. Drying off her body haphazardly with the luxurious fluffy hotel towel, her skin still damp in places, as she begins to dress. She pulls on the array of garments chosen for her, starting with her undergarments, all the way to the main event itself, a gorgeous designer dress. It was the kind of dress Frankie had been raised wearing. It was a long, floor-length, off-the-shoulder evening gown, in a delicate shade of mauve. The dress sparkled everywhere the light hit, it was beautifully intricate with hand-sewn sequins placed in just the right places. Frankie was painfully aware her time was running short. She quickly pulled a brush through her long chestnut brown hair, allowing it to fall down her back in waves. Grabbing the makeup laid out for her, she used her fingers to wipe the smudged mascara she was already wearing and made a few adjustments with concealer to help even out her complexion enough to look presentable. Walking into the rooftop event, it looked exactly as Frankie had imagined multiple tables set with the finest crisp white cloth, eight seats accompanying each table, each seat with its own individual name card, a seating plan to match - Frankie never bothered to check the chart she knew by now she would be sat with her father at the first table; several white-gloved waiters and waitresses, expensive champagne flowing in every visible glass, sparkling lights, and candles to set the mood, guests in glorious dresses and tuxedos mingling, all topped off with the most perfect evening weather for a rooftop event, as if her father had paid mother nature herself. The room hushed as Alistair entered the stage, standing in front of the mic stand specifically set to his perfect height. Frankie still had no idea about the big news. She could tell her father was excited, in her mind it had to be business-related, something he had once again excelled at and wanted everyone to know he managed it first. He loved the adoration of the elites, so he always liked to put on a big show. "Now that my beautiful daughter has arrived, I suppose it is time to let you all know why we are here..." Alistair knew just how to work a crowd, he was charismatic and had every person on the edge of their seats waiting to hear the news. Sticking his arm out, motioning someone from the crowd to join him, a woman made her way towards him, cuddling herself in. Frankie was watching like she was watching a movie, her mind not understanding the scene. "It's a pleasure for Portia and myself to welcome you all here to celebrate our engagement." Alistair chuckled, as the crowd cheered for him. Whereas Frankie was caught so off guard she stood with her mouth gasping like a fish at the news.