Her eyes light up at that. I don’t know if she’s guessed what I do—what Idid—but she knowsstunningmeansexpensive.
She knows my best colors already, so she brings mostly gold and green dresses over to the dressing room, along with a flute of champagne. She nails my vision almost immediately, same way she always does.
“He must be a special one,” she comments, looking at me in the mirror. “This might be the most flattering dress you’ve ever let me put on you.”
I huff a laugh. In the past, I tried to keep a little air of modesty and intrigue with my dresses. They always looked beautiful, of course, but they were alwaysjustsimple enough that they didn’t feel obvious. It was my way of distancing myself from my escort persona; if I wasn’t wearing a racy dress, I didn’t feel like a woman who found her worth in men.
But when I spin in front of the mirror and get a glimpse of the back of this dress, nothing could be further from my mind.
“It’s perfect,” I breathe. “I finally feel…like myself.”
Lisa tilts her head with a smile. “And isn’t that the most powerful type of outfit for a woman…”
Powerful.
I’ve been using that word in my subconscious the past few weeks. Do I feel powerful?
I don’t know. I feel beautiful, but not in the way my mother used to make me feel, or Amara, or any of my clients. I feel beautiful in a… Yes, in a powerful sort of way.
Because of Nico.
I grin at Lisa. “I’ll take this one.”
THIRTY-THREE
NICO
I look around for the hundredth time, searching for a flash of red lips or blonde hair.I wish I knew what she was wearing.
It’s the night of the gala and I’m standing on the steps of The Glasshouse, surrounded by limos, press, and people dressed to the nines. I wanted so badly to pick Scarlett up so we could arrive together, but the timing just didn’t work out. After my fight last week, a lot of PR opportunities have come up, the organization seeing my win as the start of my climb for the top. I’ve just been too nervous to say the wordsI’m retiringto put a stop to it. Even the things I’m tasked with tonight are just me unable to say no to Lucas’s ideas.
So now, instead of picking Scarlett up myself, I’m forced to wait for her at the front of the building, nerves and anticipation roiling in my gut.
And then I see her. And every ounce of nerves, fear, uncertainty…all of it disappears.
I watch, breathless, as she steps out of the black car. My gaze travels from her heels to the thigh-high slit in her dress that reveals her long legs, up the gold dress to her face. No red lipstick in sight. Her blonde hair is pinned up to expose her neckand shoulders, her makeup—and dress—all working together to create a showstopping outfit.
Christ. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I try not to bolt across the steps to her, but my impatience must be obvious because there’s amusement on her face when I finally reach her.
“Scarlett,” I breathe, taking her hand as the driver closes the door behind her. “You look…”
She smiles warmly. “So do you.”
I kiss her then. I can’tnotkiss her. Especially seeing she isn’t wearing the red lipstick that so clearly became her armor.
Just as quickly, I stand back to look at her again. “Fuck, baby, you could’ve warned me.”
She lets out a tinkling laugh. “What would be the fun in that?”
I spin her in a circle to take in the full dress, and I swear my knees nearly buckle.
“Scarlett,” I breathe.
It’s backless.
She’s wearing a gold, backless dress with a slit up one thigh and a thin silver chain hanging down her spine.
