When he said he’d behonest, I wasn’t expecting him to bethishonest. Blatant. Open.
I don’t know.
Honest to the point of shameless isn’t what I expected, but honest to the point of shameless is what I’m getting.
Laying the dress out over the back of my couch, Mr. Anders opens the box he brought for Fawn to see.
Her hand slaps to her face, nearly knocking her glasses off, as she gasps.
“Starlight princess,” Mr. Anders says, casually, unsmiling.
Fawn swallows, lowers her hand, and mouths the words.
“From the recent Amare galaxy line,” he elaborates.
Fawn cusses. “How much was all this?”
“Does that matter?”
Her eyes shoot up to meet his. “I need to know how much to reasonably pawn it off for later.”
“Probably find a private buyer instead.”
“Got it.” She nods once.
Then two sets of eyes pierce me.
I yelp and plaster myself to the front door. “No…please…” I sniffle as tears gather in my eyes. “I’m just a sad little girl.”
Fawn’s teeth bare, wicked and possibly sharp as she grabs me, secures the dress, and shoves me into my bedroom with it. “Three minutes, or I’m sending Damion in there to help you change.”
I squeak, arms full of silken, glittery fabric.
Deep and low, Mr. Anders’s voice slithers through the cracks in my door. “See, precious?Fawnknows how to use my first name.”
I might, openly, weep.
Or…
Dumping the fabric on my bed, I rush to the window. It opens easily and silently.
I can esca…
A shadow appears, looming, once I have one leg thrown onto the sill.
Looking up, I meet silver eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
A puff of air leaves Mr. Anders, then humor ignites in those ethereal silver eyes of his as he drags his knuckles up to cover the teetering edge of a burgeoning smile. Laughter shakes him, quietly moving his shoulders and tainting his voice. “You’re really…trying to climb out…the window.”
I lose my ability to think.
Mr. Anders…islaughing.
Mirth bathes him, filling his face with joy and delirium. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he fights, and loses, this battle to contain himself.
I must stand there, starstruck, for ages, because the thing that wakes me is Fawn shoving into the room, shouting, “Three minutes are up!” She stops, takes in my leg still on the sill of my open window and Mr. Anders beyond it. Blinking, she sighs. “Oh for crying out loud.” Marching across the room, she grabs my wrist, yanks me away, slams the window shut, tosses the drapesover it, and faces me, finger jabbed. “It’s apretty dress. Youlovepretty dresses.Put onthe pretty dress.Now.”
When my door slams again, I find myself robotically stunned into submission and slipping the silken starlight princess dress over my head.
