Instead, she hung the fabric confection on a silvered wall hook. “You will need undergarments.” Melissa went straight to an enormous armoire settled on the back wall. “Do you have a particular preference for the cut of your underpants?”
“No. Yes. No thongs please.”
“Of course.” Melissa asked for my bra size. She then promptly pulled out an exquisite ivory set festooned with darker lace and adorned with violet ribbon. The matching bikini panty was just as gorgeous. One look at it and I knew it had to be worth at least half of my monthly rent.
I sighed inwardly, already saddened by how quickly my savings was going to dwindle away tonight.
But I did agree to go. No use complaining about it now.
That much was true. I should welcome new experiences. After all, how many times would I be able to say I went to a charity function with a billionaire?
It’ll be a nice story to tell my grandkids one day.
I took the set with thanks. I waited to see if Melissa was going to leave. She remained where she was, hands crossed politely by her waist.
We stared at one another for several moments, neither side willing to move forward or back. Finally, Melissa asked with a friendly smile, “Do you need help with your skirt zipper, Ms. Adams?”
I didn’t but I answered, “Yes, please.” This seemed to have put us both at ease. I’m sure there wasn’t anything I had that Melissa hadn’t seen, but I was still uncomfortable with the process of undressing in front of a complete stranger. As if sensing my embarrassment, Melissa started a steady stream of conversation, one that required very little from me.
She told me all about the young dress designer, explaining how this was from her first collection. “We’re quite excited about it. I’m confident we’ll see many more phenomenal designs from Lanita Smith for years to come.”
I nodded, unable to do more because my knowledge of fashion was extremely limited. I wore mostly black, not because it was slimming but because it allowed me to mix and match my modest wardrobe. While I could afford to acquire more clothes, I was on a mission to save every extra penny I made so that I could buy a house. And not just any house either, but one with a pool, manicured gardens including an arbor, and a circular driveway with freshly paved asphalt.
I’d already talked to the current owners, a sweet couple in no hurry to sell and willing to wait for me to finish saving up the 30% for the down payment. It was a house my mother had admired for all the years she had cleaned it and in six months it was going to finally be hers.
My ultimate goal reminded me of how many months I was going to set myself back with this little excursion.
Pleasure evaporated. I was so tempted to sneak out and scurry back to the office so I could drive home. Tonight was supposed to be 80’s movie night anyways. Who had time to play socialite when the daughter of a maid knew better than anyone that she’d never be able to pass as someone who belonged in that world?
Gabriel will probably be a little peeved with me, but I can take it. What I can’t take is the bill, I’m sure.
Melissa smoothed a hand down my side. She fussed with the fabric at my shoulder until it lay just so. “Done! You truly do the dress justice, Ms. Adams.”
I braved a glance at the mirror. I liked what I saw—too much. My cheeks flushed with pleasure. “It is very pretty, isn’t it?”
I suddenly wanted it. Badly.
Damnit! Just when I made up my mind…okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll buy the dress and then wear it again when I present my mom with the keys to her new house. That way it’ll be special for another reason and will then be well worth the cost.
“Would you like to try on another gown?”
“No, this is the one.” I couldn’t imagine trying on another dress for tonight when this one existed.
She inclined her head. “Would you like me to have Mr. Gordon informed of your choice then?”
Remembering what he had asked me, I replied, “Sure.” Before she exited the room I called out to her.
“Yes, Ms. Adams?”
I felt foolish asking the question, but I was bound to feel more foolish by not asking it. “Is he going to come in here or should I go out there?”
“Mr. Gordon is waiting in another one of our dressing areas. It allows him more privacy and keeps the curious from taking pictures outside the store.”
“I see.” I hadn’t thought of that. I wondered how big of a problem it was for him with social media being what it was.
Does Gabriel really not want to walk to work or is it he can’t walk to work?
Melissa exited the room with “I’ll be back to escort you, Ms. Adams, in just a moment.”
I busied myself with folding my clothes and underwear in a neat pile. The smiling attendant came back just as I was looking for a bag to put everything in.
“Meredith will take care of your things, Ms. Adams. If you will follow me please.”
Take care of my things how? Still unsure with how things worked in high-end boutiques, I figured I’d grab my stuff after seeing Gabriel. I’m sure she wasn’t going to throw them away, so maybe she’d just bag it for me? I hoped so.
Melissa escorted me to another room just down the hall. I walked in and saw him lounging in a chair, looking all the world like a well-content prince.
His smile froze as he studied me in my finery.
“Well, how do I look?” I wasn’t supposed to be short with him, but seeing Gabriel brought back all the prickly questions of wondering what I was doing with him if he possibly had another girl he was involved with.
The worst part of it all was pretending that I wasn’t disappointed. I couldn’t show that to him. I couldn’t complain. I never could and that was the hardest part of it. I had to hide all my discomfort, all my pain, and pretend someone like him wasn’t capable of hurting me.
Which wasn’t true at all.
Still, all I could do was build my walls high enough and hope he didn’t accidentally level it like he did the night he took my virginity.
I don’t have the right to be jealous and I don’t have the right to expect anything more out of him. No matter what happened in the limo or what mostly likely won’t happen tonight.
Habits were a bitch to break apparently.
Gabriel got up from his chair and circled me. “Emma, Emma, Emma. I’m almost afraid to take you now. Maybe home would be a better option for us both.”
That wasn’t the reaction I expected. I wanted to cross my arms defensively but didn’t. I fisted my hands and tipped my chin up. “What? Does it look bad?”
“Bad?” He stopped in front of me and smiled gloriously. “I always knew you were divine, but this will let the whole world know it as well. And I’m afraid I don’t want to share. Some handsome waiter will surely whisk you away along with the empty champagne glasses.”
Relieved that he didn’t think I looked a mess, I shook my head and sighed, “You’re way too dramatic. I’m just a girl in a dress, not some runway model goddess.”
“I don’t think I’m dramatic enough and runway goddesses have nothing on you. See? Look at how beautiful you are, Emma. It’s enough to make me weep.”
Gabriel turned me towards the ornate mirror. With him standing behind me, I saw that I finally looked like I matched him. Maybe barely, but barely was enough.
“Beautiful, yes?”
“The dress? Absolutely!”
Gabriel rested one hand about my waist. “Don’t be coy, Emma. You know you’re gorgeous. Too gorgeous to be let out of my sight for long. I’m going to have to fight for your honor tonight when all those dirty old men start ogling you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Emma, when the dentures start hitting the ground.”
Tongue-tied, and very aware of Melissa still in the room, I mumbled something between a “Thank you” and a “Be quiet.”
He laughed low in my ear. “You’re so adorable.” Gabriel stepped away when his phone rang. “Excuse me. I have to take this call.” I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I held when I heard him say “Rick, change of plans. I need you to have my tux delivered here. It’s already on the way? You’re so good. This is why you’re the best!”
So what if the call was from his assistant and not a lady friend? There was no reason for my stomach to feel as it were bursting with happy little butterflies. I took the opportunity to walk over to Melissa and ask her softly, “How much is the dress?”
She didn’t bat an eye. “Four thousand. Plus tax.”
Holy f**king shit! Four f**king thousand dollars! No. No way I’m spending that much on a dress I’ll wear for a couple of hours. I can celebrate the house closing with something else.
Red-cheeked and panicked, I calmly whispered to her, “Obviously I’ll pay for the undergarments but I can’t wear this.” I could only hope the bra and panties were much less than the dress.
Please don’t be more than the dress. Please, please, and pretty please!
Gabriel startled me when he appeared next to me. “Why? You don’t like it?”
“No, I like it just fine. It’s beautiful. It’s just…”
“Then what is it?” He looked genuinely confused.
Damn rich people! Why are they so oblivious to how the rest of the world works?
I took a deep breath, ignoring my growing flush and the mute salesgirl standing a few feet away. There was no shame in what I had to say. None. People on a budget couldn’t afford shame when everyday bills came knocking.
“I can’t afford this, Gabriel.”
His shoulders relaxed and the pinched twist of his mouth loosened. “Ah, then there’s no problem.” Gabriel addressed Melissa. “Charge it, and everything else, to my account.”
“Of course, Mr. Gordon.”
“Melissa, do not charge it to Mr. Gordon’s account. Gabriel, I’m not going to let you buy this dress for me.”
He ignored me. “Melissa, charge it and let us have the room please.”
I clenched my jaw in frustration when she turned around and immediately obeyed his gentle command. I started in on him as soon as the door closed. “You’re not going to change my mind.”
Gabriel let out a long-suffering sigh. “Did you honestly think I would have you buy your own dress tonight?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why would I do that? You’re my date and I intend to take care of you fully.”
“I don’t need that, Gabriel, and I never asked for it.”
“I didn’t say that you did.” He held his hands up. “I appreciate the independent woman you are. Truly I do. I love how you’ve made your own way without help from anyone and I respect how important that is to you. But in this instance, tonight, can you try to appreciate the doting man I am for just a little bit?”
“Gabriel…” I thawed, pride no longer wounded but still unwilling to let him have his way.
“Please, Emma? I can’t let some spoiled socialite take this dress after seeing you in it. She’ll never appreciate it the same way you will. It will probably hang in her closet, forgotten with the tags on it, or worse—worn and then tossed aside like a napkin because she can’t possibly be seen in the same thing twice. You wouldn’t do that. So please, let me help this dress find a wonderful home. Emma, it belongs to you.”