“But?” he prompted, his lips tugging into that infuriating grin as he popped his head around the curtain but kept his eyes closed. “You want to say yes, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.” My heart skipped as I hung the dress back up and wondered if his eyes were shut as tight as he was pretending. Strangely, I didn’t think I’d mind too much if he snuck a peek. “Let’s do it.”
The acceptance came out greedily, like I’d been waiting for him to ask even though I hadn’t even known he would be in town. After I’d gotten dressed and pulled back the curtain, he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us enough that I felt the heat of him despite the fact that he wasn’t touching me.
His gaze swept across the gown hanging on a hook behind me again, lingering much longer than was normal before he leaned in. “Buy the dress, Aurelia. If you don’t, I will.”
Heat shot through me, butterflies erupting in my lower abdomen with such furious flutters that I nearly forgot how to breathe. When I turned, he was already backing toward the door. Then he shot me one last smile, almost roguish this time, and cocked his head so that a lock of that dark hair fell across his forehead.
“I’ll see you tonight, Jessica Rabbit.”
With that, he disappeared and an unexpected, extremely girly giggle escaped me.So he noticed the resemblance to the character, too. I wonder if I should be surprised.
The fact was that I didn’t know Harrison very well at all, but I knew things about him I doubted he’d shared with many people, and he could say the same about me. That night when we’d talked, I’d found it so easy to open up to him. Just like it’d been that first morning at the coffee shop.
Something about Harrison Westwood set me at ease while simultaneously working me up, just in a whole different way.
Once I’d taken a moment to catch my breath, I collected my things and slung the dress over my arm. Then I went to find my mother. Dutifully meeting her at the shoe department, I saw the moment she noticed the Bergdorf bag in my hand.
“Please don’t tell me you bought that dress.”
“Fine, I won’t say it, then.” I slid a pair of heels off the display, studying them much more intently than I needed to since I’d already decided against them. All I needed was a moment to gather my thoughts, and studying these shoes like I was about to write a thesis on them would give me that moment.
Mom huffed. “That gown is completely impractical.”
I finally returned the heels to the display and looked at her. “Maybe, but it’s mine and I like it.”
Her gaze sharpened, but before she could launch into a lecture, I seized the opportunity. “Why did you react that way to Harrison? You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
For a beat, her perfectly held expression wavered, but then she adjusted her scarf, exhaled sharply, and muttered, “Because his mother is a witch. That’s all there is to it.”
Without another word about the dressorthe Westwoods, she spun around and marched to another rack of shoes. I stared after her, for the first time wondering if there was more to her feud with CC than I’d thought—and how their rivalry might impact the friendship I felt blossoming with Harrison.
CHAPTER 13
HARRISON
By the time I finally ditched my mother and her endless parade of personal shoppers, my brain was numb. CC had bought me at least a dozen scarves that “brought out my eyes,” and after an entire day dodging matching Christmas sweaters, I needed a drink.
A dozen, maybe.
Slipping into the bar at the Plaza Hotel like a fugitive crossing the border, I heaved out a sigh of relief when I didn’t hear CC calling me back. I’d left her in her suite, but part of me had honestly expected her to pop up like a festive Jack-in-the-box, insisting that we have a drink together if I wanted a drink at all.
God knew, I loved the woman. To the world, she was the ringleader of her elite group of friends, a powerhouse in her own right, and the matriarch who ruled the Westwoods with an iron fist, but to us, she was justMom.
My brothers and I all had a great relationship with her. Contrary to what people might think, she was actually pretty warm. She’d also always been really involved in our lives, super hands-on, and I generally truly enjoyed spending time with her. Today had just been a lot for me, and if I had to hear one more opinion about my color palette, I was going to barf.
As soon as I walked in, I spotted Aurelia already waiting in the bar. I didn’t know what it was about her, but it was almost like I could sense her presence. Just like earlier at Bergdorf’s, when I’d been seconds from falling asleep and suddenly something had told me to look up.
My gaze met hers. For a second, all I could see was her in my bed, that beautiful face contorting with pleasure.Shit. She’s your friend, Harrison. Your hot friend, but your friend nonetheless. Fucking act like it.
I strode over to her without hesitating, but before I could even say hi, she leaned toward me and whispered, “We can’t stay here.”
“What?” I blinked hard, not even the sight of her long-sleeved shirt stretching over her chest enough to lift my spirits after that statement. “Why not? They have very expensive whiskey here. I was counting on lots of that to erase the trauma I endured today. I’ve earned it.”
She completely ignored my protests and grabbed my hand, tugging me off the barstool I’d only just sank down on. “Trust me. Come on. Let’s go.”
Apparently, I had no free will when it came to her, because I followed Aurelia Van Alen out of that glorious bar with the amazing whiskey without even putting up a little bit of a fight. She dragged me through the lobby glittering with decorations and straight into the chaos of a Christmas market across the street, and I didn’t protest once.
