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I could hear them in the other room.
“They’re beautiful,” Ramona said.
She introduced herself and offered him coffee while I touched up my eyeshadow.
The rest of the conversation was too muted for me to make out.
Moments later, there was a knock at the bathroom door. “Your boss man is here,” Billy yelled.
“I know. I’ll be right out.”
When I opened the door, there Dennis was. I knew the man could wear the hell out of a suit, but the tuxedo took it to the next level. He looked like he’d walked straight off the set of a Bond movie.
He held out a bouquet to me.
I took the gorgeous red roses. “They’re beautiful.” I held them strategically to hide my cleavage. Now that I was wearing the dress for real, the neckline seemed even more daring than it had in the store. I’d expected it to make me feel empowered, butvulnerablebetter described my current state of mind. What the neckline didn’t show was pretty evident behind the thin material. My nipples were hard and pokey.
“Not half as beautiful as you.”
I contained my laugh at the corny comment. I was going as his arm candy, in an effort to unnerve his ex, nothing more.
“Stop that. There’s no audience here.” The words sounded harsher than I’d meant them.
His smile turned to a scowl, telling me I’d once again been too sassy—that was becoming a constant problem for me.
His mouth opened, then closed, as he apparently decided to keep his thoughts to himself.
Ramona came from around the counter. “Let me put those in some water for you.” Ever the peacekeeper, she defused the argument.
I relinquished the bouquet, and his eyes went to my plunging neckline and back to my face with an approving smile. “Youdolook gorgeous this evening.” His tone conveyed the don’t-contradict-me message even louder than the words.
I tried not to squirm under his stare. “Should we get going?”
He swung his arm toward the door. “The lady’s carriage awaits.”
Billy scurried to open the door.
Dennis followed. “Thank you, Billy.”
Ramona grabbed my arm. “Should I wait up?” she whispered.
I silently shook my head. I had no idea how late this would go.
Downstairs, Dennis held the door open for me as I exited the building.
At the curb, his driver, Karl, waited by the town car.
My neighbor, Mrs. Butterfield, stopped short and stared as I gathered up the long dress and slid into the car. Her glare made it obvious what she thought of my attire, and it wasn’t complimentary.
Dennis climbed in the other side and closed the door. “Don’t you dare do that again.”
I jerked back. “What?”
“Refuse an honest compliment.”
The man was impossible. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” he said, cutting me off. “A lady graciously accepts a compliment.”
