"Do pearl white," he said immediately. "Both hands and feet."
I blinked. "White?"
"Pearl white. Trust me." His smile was mysterious. "It'll look perfect."
I looked at Teresa, who nodded approvingly. "Pearl white would be stunning on you. Very elegant."
I was skeptical, white nails had never been my thing, but something in Dez's expression made me want to trust him.
"Okay," I said. "Pearl white it is."
He smiled, kissed the top of my head, and disappeared back into his office. Teresa started on my feet first, and I had to admit, the pearl white looked better than I'd expected. Luminous against my dark skin, catching the light in interesting ways. Elegant and sophisticated without being boring. By the time she moved to my hands, I was completely converted.
"He has good taste," Teresa said with a knowing smile. "Your boyfriend."
"He's not—" I started, then stopped.
What was he? Not my boyfriend. But after today, after last night, after everything— Maybe something more.
"He's special," I said finally.
"I can tell." She finished the last coat on my pinky finger. "The way he set all this up. I've done a lot of private spa appointments for wealthy clients. Most of them do it to impress someone or to check a box. But this?" She gestured around. "This was personal. He called my boss late last night, paid triple my normal rate, and gave specific instructions about making sure you felt taken care of. That's not an obligation. That's care."
My chest tightened.
"He is special," I whispered.
"Then don't let him go." She smiled. "Now, let's get you under the dryer and then you're all done."
By the time I emerged from my spa cocoon, six hours had passed.
Six hours of being massaged and pampered and beautified. I'd also been served a light lunch. A delicate salad with grilled chicken and a vinaigrette that tasted like summer, but now my stomach was growling again.
Dez appeared the moment Teresa started packing up her supplies.
"All done?" he asked.
"Yes. And it was amazing. Thank you." I held up my hands, showing off the pearl white nails. "You were right. I love them."
"I told you to trust me." He paid Teresa, adding what looked like a generous tip, and saw her to the elevator. “I’ll be back, I’m going to help her take all of this down.”
He’s a good man…
When he returned, he held out his hand. "Come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"To get ready for dinner." He led me back to the bedroom. "The chef made something special."
"More food? Dez, you're going to spoil me." Despite being hungry, he'd handled every meal since I'd been here.
"That's the plan." He gestured to the bed, where a dress was laid out—simple but elegant, a deep emerald green that would look stunning on me. "Put this on. Take your time. I'm going to change too."
He disappeared into the closet, and I picked up the dress.
It was perfect. The right size, the right style, the right color. How had he known?
I slipped it on and checked myself in the mirror. The dress hugged my curves, the emerald green making my skin glow. With the pearl white nails and my hair—which Teresa had blown out and styled in soft waves. I looked elegant. Polished. Beautiful. I felt it too.
