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“Wait one more second,” I call after her.
She stops in her tracks and looks at me expectantly.
“I'll have legal draft up an agreement for us to formally sign,” I redirect, steering us to safer logistics. “In the meantime, I need you to accompany me to the Tech for Troops charity gala this Friday. And over the weekend, I will come help you pack your things and move you downtown.”
Maddie blinks. “Oh. Right, of course . . .”
I grab my wallet and pull out my credit card, placing it firmly in her palm. “Here. Go crazy. There’s a stylist we work with at Bergdorf’s. I’ll ask Jessica to set up an appointment for you tomorrow morning, and I’ll let Amanda know you’ll be running late. Jessica will arrange for the other services as well.”
Confusion is plastered all over her expression now. “Other services?” My thumb skims her wrist bone before reluctantly releasing her hand.
“Hair, makeup, all that jazz. I can’t say that I know all the details. If you're going to dazzle for our public debut, might as well do it right, Little Bird.” I shrug, aiming for a casual tone.
“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” She smirks and walks out, leaving me with her signature lavender scent in my nostrils and a raging hard-on in my pants.
7
CINDERELLA SMOLDERS
“It is WAY too hot for September,” I groan, fanning myself as Grace and I push through the heavy brass doors into Bergdorf's blessed air conditioning.
“Seriously, it's like walking through soup out there.” Grace grimaces, tying up her hair to cool her neck. “It’s not just the weather. With the way things are going with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Smoldering, ice water would be in order right about now, I suppose,” she teases. “I don’t see how he plans to be engaged to you and manage to keep his resolve.”
There is no version of this universe where I would have agreed to pick a ball gown without my older sister. After some pleading and emotional blackmailing, Grace agreed to take half a day off to help me pick the right one.
I swat her on the back with an eye roll. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves now. To my utter dismay, mountain man has managed to stay quite the gentleman.”
Grace sighs, putting her arm around my shoulders, and I lean into her embrace. My mind skips back to Jack's rough hands and gentle tongue bringing me to the edge over and over but refusing to cross the final line.
“Ladies, darlings!” trills a statuesque man in a flawlessly tailored suit and ascot. “I'm Julius, your style architect extraordinaire today.” He presses exuberant air kisses to both Grace's and my cheeks.“Follow me to our very own pamper palace where I'll have you looking irresistible in no time. Then it's only a matter of how quickly Sir Sexy CEO crumbles at your Chanel-clad feet!”
I meet Grace's barely contained laughter with a subtle shrug.
“That’s exactly what you need, Mads,” she whispers conspiratorially as she takes my hand and pulls me to follow Julius.
“We don’t have too much time though. We both need to be back in the office before noon,” I warn him, not knowing how long this shopping spree could even take.
Julius rolls his eyes at us regular working folks and swaggers ahead of us, leading us to a spacious room, sparkling gowns hung on a rack. He ushers me behind a curtain, and we start the long process. Grace is comfortably tucked in a leather chair, sipping on a cappuccino that somehow materialized in front of her.
“Too pedestrian.” Julius grimaces as a red gown joins the discard pile. I sigh, rotating my sore shoulders. We have already been through rounds of emerald green (too boring), fuchsia pink (too sweet), and canary yellow (too literal, considering my Little Bird nickname).
“The gala guests simply must be dazzled,” he reminds me. “This debut sets the tone for your entire social season, darling!”
Social season?
Good Lord in Heaven. Are we, like, in eighteen-fifties London or something?
Bewildered, I glance at Grace and wilt onto a plush settee, wondering how other women manage this so cheerily. That's when Grace lets out a dramatic gasp.
“Maddie . . . look. It's perfect!” She pulls out an exquisite flowing dress in rich sapphire blue, the color of distant seas and night skies. It has elegant draped lines that manage to be sophisticated and fun at the same time. Modern, yet somehow timeless. In other words: utterly perfect.
“I knew you were going to be indispensable,” I cheer, and carefully step into the gown. Its silky lining embraces me soothingly, like being enveloped in a plush cocoon. I dare a glance in the three-way mirror. An unfamiliar glamour stuns me momentarily. In this dress, I channel equal parts Old Hollywood and Cosmopolitan It Girl.
“Mission accomplished,” Julius pronounces with glimmering eyes. Grace clasps my hands, mirroring my awe.
“Go and change, darling, and we’ll deliver the dress to your address. Then tomorrow, Mia and Rory will stop by around five to put the finishing touches on you.”
“W-what does ‘finishing touches’ entail exactly?” I ask him nervously.
