Samantha straightened the delicate straps of her gown in front of the mirror, admiring the way the satin fabric caught the soft, golden glow of the sun streaming through her window. The dress was elegant yet understated, perfect for the prestigious gala she'd be attending. For a moment, she allowed herself to take it all in.
She couldn't help but smile, a quiet sense of pride swelling in her chest. The last two and a half years working with Angela had been everything she ever dreamed of—and more. The high-profile campaigns, the late-night brainstorming sessions in Angela's apartment, and the countless challenges she had faced had all helped her grow in ways she never thought possible. Tonight wasn't just another gala—it was a reminder of how far she had come.
Angela wasn't just her boss anymore; she had become a role model. Watching Angela navigate the complexities of her career with unwavering confidence had inspired Samantha to believe in her own potential. Angela had encouraged her to dream bigger and aim higher, and Samantha had risen to the challenge each and every time. The past few years had been nothing short of transformative—not only for her career but also for her confidence and the person she was becoming.
After a quick and final adjustment to her earrings, she grabbed her clutch and stepped out of her room, heading into the living room. The faint hum of baseball commentary filled the space, punctuated by the occasional sound of crowd cheers from the game.
The late afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Tony was sprawled on the couch, the remote in his hand, his attention fixed on the screen. When he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned his head, his face catching the shifting light as he turned toward Samantha, his expression softening the moment he saw her.
"Wow," he said, his voice carrying a quiet warmth. "You look beautiful. You remind me so much of your mom, Sam."
Samantha turned to him, her lips curving into a soft smile. "You always say that," she replied, her tone teasing but affectionate. "I'll take it as a compliment."
Tony shrugged, pushing himself up off the couch. "You should. It's the truth."
"You know," he said, his voice softening further as he looked at her. "I don't say it enough, but I'm proud of you, kid. Look at you—a real class act." His grin faltered slightly, just enough to suggest he was holding back deeper emotions.
Samantha circled the coffee table, smoothing down the satin folds of her gown. "Well, don't get too sentimental on me. We've got a big night ahead of us."
Tony stretched, adjusting his posture as though bracing himself for something uncomfortable. "Yeah, a night of minglin' with the rich and powerful of New York. My favorite pastime," he said, the sarcasm practically dripping from his words. Samantha rolled her eyes, used to his grumbling.
"Dad," she said, adjusting the clasp of her necklace. "You could at least try to enjoy yourself. It's just one night."
Tony crossed his arms, his expression growing thoughtful. "You know I don't love these kinds of crowds. Posh people and their fancy lives—it's all so superficial. The moment you're not useful to them, you're invisible. Trust me, I know." He hesitated, the edge in his voice softening. "I had friends—good friends, or so I thought. But as soon as I wasn't in the spotlight, most of them disappeared from my life."
Samantha stepped closer, her expression softening as well. "I get it, Dad. But not everyone's like that. You're putting down most of the people I work with."
Tony gave her a pointed look. "And I'm telling you not to become like them. You've got something they don't, Sam—substance and authenticity. It's what keeps you grounded. Don't let it slip away chasing after things that don't matter. Wealth can chip away at people, you know, especially those born into old money who've never had to lift a finger or pay their way through college."
Samantha tilted her head, her smile fading slightly. "Dad … you paid my way through school."
"Yes, but I had to work hard to do it," he countered, his tone soft but insistent.
"Come on, Dad. Not everyone is like that. Are you telling me you don't think Angela worked for what she has? She's not like that."
"Right," Tony replied, arching an eyebrow. "So that condo, with the park view on the Upper West Side you're always ravin' about, that ain't frivolous?"
Samantha bristled as she stepped over Tony's overnight bag on her way to the mirror by the front door to fix her hair. His tux hung neatly on the hook beside it. "Angela works hard for everything she has, Dad. She deserves every bit of it. You'll see—she's amazing."
Tony chuckled softly but then added with a hint of skepticism, "Yeah, but at what cost, Sam? What'd it cost her to be this amazing? I bet she's lonely—no husband, no time for anything but her career."
Samantha turned sharply, her eyes wide, her tone exasperated. "Dad!"
He held up his hands defensively, his grin returning. "Alright, alright. I'm just saying—success like hers doesn't always come without sacrifices." Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. "But … I'll keep my comments to myself—just don't expect me to become her biggest fan overnight."
"Daad," Samantha drew out, her voice now tinged with frustration. Her hands dropped in defeat by her sides, a faint sigh escaping her lips.
"Alright, kid, I get it. It's your big night, and Angela's practically royalty. But don't let her talk you into a throne, alright? I like my daughter grounded, not above the clouds."
"I know you're just trying to look out for me, and I love you for it." Samantha gently placed a hand on his arm, her touch soft but deliberate. Tony glanced down at it, his expression softening as he met her gaze. "But she's not like that, Dad. Just trust me, okay?"
Tony's gaze lingered on Samantha's hand, his shoulders relaxing slightly as her words sank in. A faint, unreadable smile played at the corners of his mouth—caught somewhere between skepticism and reluctant acceptance. He shifted his weight, leaning back a little, as though retreating into his own thoughts. His eyes softened as he studied her, and for a moment, his usual guarded demeanor seemed to crack, revealing the quiet pride he carried for her.
His grin remained for a beat before fading, his gaze shifting to a spot just beyond Samantha. It crossed his mind, though, the question he'd been too careful to ask: When had Samantha last made time for herself? For anyone? All these galas and campaigns—was there room left for anything else in her life?
Samantha glanced at the time, grabbing her clutch from the table. "Speaking of Angela, I need to head out. We're meeting at her place before the gala, and the limo's picking us up there."
"A limo," Tony said, his voice tinged with amusement. "What, a cab ain't good enough for you anymore? Leaving me here to ride solo while you cruise around Manhattan with your boss in style?"
Samantha smirked, stepping into her heels and heading for the door. "Well, when you're as fabulous as Angela, a limo just makes sense," she said with a playful glance back at Tony. "Dad, you're a handsome guy, but that judgy streak? Not your best look," she added with a mischievous grin. "Go put on your 'gala face,' and I'll see you there."
She stepped closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Dad," she said warmly, her eyes shining with affection.
Tony smiled, his rough exterior melting just slightly as he watched her. "I love you too, kid."
She reached for her wrap before stepping into the hallway, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she called over her shoulder, "Don't be late!"
Tony let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Me, late? Please, Sam." The door clicked shut. "You know I'm way more reliable than any fancy limo," he muttered to himself.
Tony lingered in the doorway after she left, the faint echo of her heels still lingering in the hall. Pride and worry mingled in a way only a father could understand.
As Samantha made her way through her building's lobby, her thoughts turned to Angela—the energy she brought into every room, the unshakeable confidence that left no doubt of her brilliance. But it wasn't just about her accomplishments or the prestige she carried; it was the way she inspired everyone around her, Samantha most of all. Wealth didn't define Angela, though Samantha knew that's what her dad always seemed to fixate on.
She hoped, more than anything, that tonight Tony would give Angela a real chance. That he'd look past the wealth and status he always seemed to focus on and see what made Angela truly extraordinary. Angela wasn't just her boss anymore; she had become a guiding force in Samantha's life—a mentor she deeply admired and cared about. And with Tony being the most important person in her world, Samantha needed them to find common ground.
She stepped outside and drew in a deep breath, the crisp air carrying the faint scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the golden warmth of the late afternoon sun. The trees lining the street were just beginning to shed their vibrant red and orange foliage, painting the ground with hints of autumn. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze added to the quiet energy in the air, as if the world itself was anticipating the night ahead. Samantha paused before getting into the cab, feeling a flicker of excitement and nerves.