Page 80 of Dirty Boss

I glanced at the tag:Versace.

Oh, my word.

This wasn’t just a dress. This was A Dress. It looked like it was inspired by Claudia Schiffer’s lavender Oscar’s look from 1995. I frowned at the material, the stitching. This wasn’t a new dress. Was it inspired by that dress? Or was itthe dress?

How—

Who—

Not Vaughn. He had multiple pairs of steel-toed boots, and he hadn’t gotten up close and personal with a decent suit until a few weeks ago. He’d buzzed his hair over the bathroom sink, for crying out loud. Vaughn wouldn’t have the connections or the knowledge to get a vintage Versace piece released from the archives. He probably didn’t even know that fashion houses had archives.

For him to send me this dress would mean he had to put inserious effort, and way out of his comfort zone. That wasn’t… He couldn’t, could he?

My mouth had gone dry at some point, and I was afraid of leaving sweat stains on the fabric from how damp my palms had become. I laid the dress back on its protective paper and shifted my gaze to the bottom edge of the box.

A card was secured to little slits in another, smaller box contained inside the big one. My name was written in swirling calligraphy. The card was thick and luxurious, and when I turned it over, there were a grand total of four words, followed by a name:See me for alterations. Koval.

I laughed. The grumpy old man had a way with words, that was for sure. And that meant this dress had to be from Vaughn. Of course it was from him.

Tears formed in my eyes.

And wasn’t that just so typical of him? He’d seen the stress in my face when he’d mentioned expensing my outfit, so he’d taken it upon himself to fix the problem. I guessed he’d gone to Koval after the fitting on Monday and asked for a dress, and Koval had handled the rest. I wondered if Vaughn had requested purple, to make his daughter happy. It seemed likely.

I looked up, my eyes skimming the main room of my apartment. It was just like this place, wasn’t it? He’d found the mold and had told me he’d handle it. And he did. I wasn’t sure how he’d convinced the landlord to keep my rent the same for a place two or three times the size, but he’d done it. For me. He’d given me a safe roof over my head, somewhere to start fresh, again.

As my heart thundered, I stripped down to my undies and slipped the dress over my head. It felt like cool liquid falling over my skin, the straps at the shoulders sitting a bit wide, the hips feeling a little tight. The only mirror in this place was in thebathroom, so I stood in front of the vanity and admired what I could see. I spun around to look at the play of the light over the sequins at the back and sides and front, my hands skimming over the sides of the garment.

My phone rang. Vaughn.

“Do you like it?” he asked as soon as I answered.

“Vaughn.” I twirled. “Where did you get this?”

“Mr. Koval is full of mysteries. I’m guessing that means it’s the perfect F-U dress for a certain gala?”

“It’s more than an F-U dress. It’s a Diana Revenge Dress.”

“A what?”

“Never mind. I need to call Koval to make an appointment.”

“There’s a car waiting for you downstairs. He’s blocked out the rest of the day for you.”

“Vaughn.”

He laughed. “Hurry up. I’m sick of sitting here on my own.”

My heart kicked. I ran to the window, struggled with the painted-over sash, and finally heaved it up far enough to stick my head out. “What are you doing here?” I called out, down the eight stories that separated us. Snow fell on my head, over my shoulders.

Vaughn leaned against the side of a black town car, grinning up at me.

“You’re crazy.”

“Get down here,” he said. “You know the old man doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

I slammed the window most of the way down, then stripped off the dress and threw on the old leggings and shirt I’d been wearing earlier. Carefully repacking the dress, I peeked in the smaller box—beautiful lavender satin shoes—and replaced the top. I left the velvet bow untied, hauled the box under my arm, and flew down the stairs.

Vaughn caught me at the bottom, taking the box from me to hand it to the driver, then swinging me around in his arms. I laughed, breathless, then tilted my chin up to accept his kiss.