A private show

"Ah, Ms. Emma," she said, looking at me in a way that showed she was judging and approving. "The guests are waiting for you." Guests? I felt a rush of nerves. What did she mean? I had never been asked to serve guests before. I felt both excited and scared. "Which guests, Mrs. Luisana?" I asked, trying to sound calm. "The ones Mr. Harrison invited," she replied with a wink. "You need to be downstairs in the dining room in ten minutes." She walked away, her heels clicking on the floor, counting down to my fate. Panic rose in me. The dress was pretty, but it showed too much skin for serving guests. I felt like I was being led to danger, dressed in a way that invited attention. I looked at the tight fabric and realized it was more than just a dress; it showed my new role in this strange situation. "But Mrs. Luisana," I said, my voice shaky. "This dress... it's not right for serving guests." Her smile grew. "It's not just for serving, dear," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It'