I glare at him. He grins back.
“That’s what I thought. Now sit.” He points to the velvet chair. “And trust me.”
“The last time you said that, I ended up in leather pants.”
“And you looked amazing.”
“I couldn’t sit down.”
“Beauty is pain, sugar tits.”
I sit. Reluctantly.
Jasper disappears into the main showroom. I hear him moving racks. Muttering to himself. The sound of hangers scraping.
I look around the back room. NOIR has changed since the last time I was here.
Everything is bright pink now. Hot pink. The walls. The furniture. Even the champagne flutes have pink stems.
It’s aggressive. Unapologetically bold. Very Jasper.
“When did you redecorate?” I call out.
“Last month!” he yells back. “Do you love it?”
“It’s very… pink.”
“That’s a yes.”
“That’s a ‘my retinas are burning.’”
“Same thing!”
I catch my reflection again. Longer hair. Fuller face. Curves that weren’t there two months ago.
I look different. Not bad different. Just… different.
More.
More of everything.
Jasper returns carrying a garment bag. Sets it on the table. Unzips it slowly.
I brace myself. Prepare for tulle. Or fringe. Or some unholy combination of both.
He pulls out a dress.
I blink.
It’s… simple.
Cream-colored. Soft fabric. Long sleeves. Midi-length. A subtle drape at the waist that would hide the bump without making it look like I’m hiding it.
“This?” I ask.
“This.”
“It’s not sparkly.”
