I huff out a laugh as Kaitlin holds out the bags she’s brought. “I have a bunch of clothes that my sister gave me. She’s a photographer and has designer shoots all the time. She always gives me anything the studios don’t want. I have a bunch of dresses, and I thought you might like to try them on.”
I hold back the urge to rush across the room and hug her. All the anxiety I had brewing inside me fades away as she holds up one of the bags. The simple black gown inside is truly stunning.
“Wanna try some on?”
“Yes!” Annabelle responds for me, settling on the couch as I glare at her. “You can do a fashion show for me!”
“This is my sister, Annabelle,” I say, glaring at her. I then glance around at the house. “Sorry about the state of this place… I’m?—”
“Oh my God, you should see the mess my little boy leaves in his wake. Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”
She hands me the dress with a big grin on her face, and I finally feel the shame recede into nothing.
“Let’s try this one first. It’s one of my favorites and I think you’ll look amazing in it.”
Chapter 33
Lucas
Ilook around in confusion as Melvin drives us through one of the shittiest streets in Brooklyn.
There are a few kids on bikes staring at the car as we drive by, and I wonder if we’ll get out of here with the side mirrors still attached.
“You’re sure this is where she lives?” I ask Melvin.
He nods. “I am, sir. Although I didn’t pick her up from her house before.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was on the street waiting for me. I’m not sure which is her house.”
I look at the miserable white buildings on the block. Many of them are run-down, with chain-link fences out front. A few look like they’re barely still standing, with broken-down cars in the driveways and trash bags covering the sidewalks.
This is really where Amelia lives?
Melvin slows as we turn the corner and whistles low in the back of his throat. I’m not sure why at first, and then I look through the driver’s side window and my heart stutters in my chest.
“Yep. This was where she was before, too,” Melvin says, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the rearview.
It’s like the whole world stops spinning as I catch sight of Amelia standing on the corner waiting for us.
Where the hell did she get that dress?
She looks like a supermodel; the black, figure-hugging fabric is far more appropriate than the gaudy red thing I picked out in a panic this afternoon.
Her hair glitters like she’s just walked out of a salon, and the diamond necklace and earrings I sent over are sparkling around her neck.
I glance around in concern.
I wouldn’t have sent those if I had known she would be waiting alone in a neighborhood like this.
Melvin pulls over along the sidewalk as I get out, buttoning my jacket.
All through the day, I’ve had a persistent sense of anger and exhaustion at having to attend the gala. These events are a necessary evil, affording me opportunities that I would never get outside of such a setting. Still, I resent all the socializing I’m going to have to do.
But now, with this vision before me, I can’t wait to get there and show her off to everybody else.
She turns to me, as if in slow motion, that glorious hair falling loose in waves down her back. She is, quite simply, the most stunning woman I have ever seen.
