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Eating my feelings? Guess so.
This is, of course, when Derek’s head pokes into the apartment.
“Can you hold this door for me a sec, please?” he asks.
I see he’s got a rolling rack behind him.
I put the éclair down and move his way, too much food in my mouth, and not giving a care.
His eyes sparkle with amusement as I hold the door open. He backs up and then pulls in a long rack.
“That’s good,” he says and relieves me of door-holding duty, kissing me and then licking his lips, going, “Mm” as he shuts and then locks it.
He gestures to the seven or eight-foot-long rolling rack that’s filled with clothes and stacked boxes underneath. Shoe boxes, mostly, with some brand names I recognize.
“This is all for you,” he says. “I’ll roll it into the closet, you try on what you like. If there’s anything you don’t want, leave it on the rack. Anything you do want, just move it into the closet for now. It’ll all go with us when we leave. Have it all if you want.”
There’s a lot to unpack here but before I can even ponder where to start, he touches a sky blue dress at the front of the rack. “I’d like you to wear this tomorrow, if you don’t mind. Or this.” He points to another dress that’s nearly the same color of blue but with black and cream mixed in. “I’d love if you’d model them both for me and let me pick, but I suspect you’ll tell me to go fuck myself.”
“Tomorrow?” I ask.
“Brunch with my parents. It’s their family thing for their fortieth anniversary. Next weekend is the bigger celebration.”
I stare blankly. He’s serious.
“This will be family only. Next weekend, it’ll be about four hundred guests.”
I blink a couple times as he pulls the cart down the hallway.
I’m in the same spot when he’s back. “Not interested in the clothes?”
“Um…” I let that hang.
“I’m guessing you didn’t pack anything for tomorrow since you didn’t know about it.”
“Since you dragged me here against my will, you mean?”
“You exaggerate,” He pulls me into an embrace, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Irritated, I press my palms against his chest and push. He tightens his grip.
“What about the rest of it?” I finally ask.
“Clothes, shoes. A variety of things. I wanted you to have some nice things, so I asked my personal shopper to outfit you for a new wardrobe. You don’t have to keep them all if anything isn’t to your taste, but if you want them all, keep them all. I sent Nicola photos of you in several different outfits so she said she was getting things based on both your existing style and on what she thought would suit you.”
“Several photos of me?”
“I have a file,” he replies.
“A file? Can I see it?” I ask.
“If you want,” he replies. “It’s in my office at Downtown, though. You go check out the clothes, I’ll go get it for you. Don’t leave.” He gives me a dark look. “I’d find you.” He pokes me in the nose and then smiles as if he didn’t just deliver a threat.
I like nice things. I wouldn’t call myself a total fashionista. I own some designer things, but I’ve gotten the higher ticket stuff at trunk shows, from consignment shops. I’m a big fan of bargain-hunting, so while a lot of my stuff isn’t designer, some of it is. And I like fashion, love quality items, and really love getting something for a steal.
While I’m not impressed about Derek’s ability to shower me with expensive things, I am impressed with this Nicola’s abilities. Because there’s not a single thing on this rack that I don’t want, don’t like, or wouldn’t wear. There are business suits. There are designer jeans, cute tops, quality cardigans, party dresses, workout and relaxation clothes, and gorgeous footwear. There are even accessories that are my taste – to a tee.
I’ll just ignore the selection of sexy lingerie, but I might not be able to resist this comfortable and cute sleepwear. These clothes are worth a lot of money. And there are also a few boxes containing expensive shoes and after looking at them, I have to curtail my inner child who dares me to get excited, who is trying to squeal like it’s Christmas morning.
