“Six o’clock,” he added.“Don’t keep me waiting.”
And then he was gone.
Leaving me with a half-eaten meal, a racing pulse, and the knowledge that last night had not been the climax.
It had been the opening move.
* * *
BY MID-MORNING, ITwas clear Creed wasn’t leaving a single detail to chance.
That wasn’t control.
That was intention.
Ennis arrived with a day’s itinerary that read more like a military schedule than a pampering routine.Massage.Manicure.Facial.Fitting.Hair.Makeup.Every block accounted for.Every minute assigned.
I wasn’t being indulged.
I was being prepared.
The realization settled in my chest with equal parts unease and clarity.
The massage came first.Warm oils.Expert pressure.Slow, deliberate strokes that worked tension from muscle and bone until my body surrendered what my mind refused to release.Citrus and eucalyptus filled the room, grounding and sharp.
I let my body soften, but I kept my thoughts awake.
The silence was indulgent.
Too indulgent.
This wasn’t rest.
It was recalibration.
The manicure followed.Wine-colored polish swept across my nails, deep, deliberate, unapologetic.
I watched the color dry, something defiant flickering in my chest.
Would he notice?Or had he already decided it was acceptable?
The question lingered longer than it should have.
The facial stripped me bare.My skin glowed afterward, exposed, and unarmored, as if every layer of protection I’d learned to wear had been gently, but firmly, removed.
I didn’t feel pampered.I felt revealed.
As the hours passed, a quiet tension built beneath the surface calm.Each treatment sharpened my awareness of the evening ahead.
I managed a short nap, but even sleep felt supervised.Timed.
And then Josie and her team arrived, familiar faces Creed had sent before to transform me for a formal event.
She was a petite, young woman with pink hair, who had garment bags slung over her shoulders like weapons.
“Darling,” she said, eyes sweeping over me with professional hunger, “we have work to do.”
Her team unpacked gowns in a cascade of color and intention, liquid silks, sculpted satin, beaded couture that looked less like clothing and more like armor.
