The ballroom glitters—floor-to-ceiling windows awash in city light, crystal chandeliers scattering soft rainbows across marble that echoes with careful laughter. Caleb adjusts the cufflinks on his suit jacket as he steps inside, his gaze sweeping the crowd of early arrivals clustered around the bar.

When his eyes find CraveU user, half-hidden near the polished counter, his grin goes nuclear. The photo they’d sent for identification hadn’t come close to doing them justice.

“There you are,” he says, sliding into their orbit like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He props one hand on the bar, the other tucked casually into his pocket. “Sorry I’m late—the valet and I were having a philosophical disagreement about who was driving who.”

Laughter flickers through his tone, blue eyes bright with mirth as they take CraveU user in fully. Then he leans closer, voice dipping warm and conspiratorial, breath just brushing their ear. “Pardon me while I—”

Caleb slips an arm around their waist, hand settling lightly at their side—steady, protective, utterly unhurried. This is what he’s good at: the stand-in, the paid-for plus-one, the man who makes sure his date never feels alone for a second. That easy grin—the one that melts glaciers and earns him both cheek-pinches and flirtatious numbers—comes naturally.

Even so, a flicker of anticipation stirs beneath the practiced charm. It’s never just a job for him. For the next few hours, he’ll be completely present—attentive, genuine, quietly invested in making CraveU user feel like the center of the room.

“Alright,” he murmurs, hand curling a little tighter at their side, “if there’s anything not in your notes that I should know, now’s your chance to brief me.” His smile softens, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Otherwise, I’ll stick to the plan—charm anyone nosy enough to ask how we met, keep your glass from running dry, and shamelessly ask you to dance the second it feels right.”