“Even if he has to let you go, you’ll always have a job with Fox Industries if you want it,” I reassure her. “There’s no need to worry, Ava.”
Her eyes water again. “You’re doing too much for me. You don’t have to.”
I stroke her cheek. “I’m just protecting my investment,” I say, but the words lack the bite they usually do.
I’m no longer talking about my money investment, or what she can bring me business-wise.
I’ve started to invest my feelings into this, and I won’t waste them.
Nobody makes Dagen Fox care and gets out of alive.
Just ask my dead mother.
Thirty-Three
Ava
Tonya comes over Thursday afternoon with a shit-eating grin and a bag full of snacks for her and Elsie. “What’s this I hear about a shopping trip?” she asks the moment I open the door.
I smile back, mostly because Tonya’s smile is infectious, but also because I’m genuinely excited for the gala. Not only do I get to play dress up, but I get to look into Ric’s eyes as he realizes how fucked he is. My nerves threaten to overshadow it, but the excitement is too high. It’s about time for Ric to see some consequences for how he treated me. I want that asshole to bleed, even if it’s financially. “Fancy parties require fancy clothes, apparently,” I say. “Who knew?”
“I’m more interested in your date,” she whispers loudly, her eyes trailing over to Dagen where he sits at the table. Elsie is sitting there going through her multiplication tables, quizzing him on one every now and then to see if he can keep up. Dagen, to his credit, seems amused by the exchange and happy to help. When Elsie had tried to show him the new method of showing work, he’d frowned and complained about how math was being changed, but otherwise, he’s enjoying it. I don’t disagree. It’s hard to help with homework when the methods we were shown in school aren’t even in use anymore.
“It’s a Tech Gala,” I counter. “It makes sense we’d go together since we’re working together on this new system launch.”
“Right,” Tonya grins. “And it’s totally necessary for him to take you shopping for the gala.”
“He’s just a really good boss,” I say with a shrug.
“Oh, I bet he is,” she laughs and wiggles her brows. “Where can the rest of us peasants find such a good boss?” She glances at the time and pops her lips. “But ignore me. You two go on and get out of here.” She moves over to the table and plops down, smiling brightly at Dagen. “She looks great in red if you haven’t noticed. A red dress would be killer.”
Dagen smiles. “I’ll take that into consideration.” He looks over at me, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Are you ready to go?”
I nod and grab my purse from the hook by the door. “Make sure you finish your homework, Elsie. There’s pizza for the two of you in the oven. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Tonya winks at me. “Take your time. We’ll see you when you get back.”
And that’s how I find myself in the back of one of Dagen’s black cars being driven by John to the expensive shopping district I never go to. I could have easily just gone to Dilliard’s for a dress, but Dagen insisted that these sorts of things are practically a fashion show. Your clothing is a representation of your success and if I’m stepping out with Fox Industries and representing Goliath, then I need to look the part. By that, I guess he just means expensive. The mall clearance rack doesn’t quite fit.
The car eases to a stop in front of a glass window and Dagen hops out to open my car door and help me up rather than wait for John to come around. The moment I get a look at just how sparsely the clothing is displayed inside the store, I realize I probably should have worn something other than my jeans and sneakers. Everything is pristine and spaced out, the black marble shot through with shimmery green veins. I shift in my tennis shoes, worried that they won’t let me inside just because of how I’m dressed. If I came in here alone, I’m certain they’d call the cops on me.
“Are you sure this place will have stuff that fits?” I ask, looking up at the sign. No lights out. Not like the local Dilliard’s with the A always needing a new bulb. Besides that, I’m not exactly model thin. I have curves, and expensive stuff like this doesn’t usually like that from my experience. Even with the clothing I can see inside the store, it looks rail thin hanging on the velvet hangers.
“Of course they’ll have something for you, but even if they don’t, we’ll just go to the next one,” he reassures me. “Come on.”
He holds the door open and I precede him, so I get a good look at the woman behind the counter’s disdainful perusal of me. I knew it. My jeans are too cheap. When Dagen’s steps in behind me, however, her disgusted expression wipes clean, and she comes around with a pretty smile instead.
“Welcome to Feucht,” she says. “Can I help you pick out anything special today?”
Dagen nods. “We need a dress, preferably in red.”
The woman claps her hands, pretending as if she hadn’t looked at me like I was shit on her expensive red-bottom shoe. “We have plenty of options here that fit that specification. If you’d like to head back to the dressing chamber, I’ll bring them back.”
“Don’t you need to know my size?” I ask, furrowing my brows. I’d expected some judgement when I had to announce it in front of Dagen, but she doesn’t bat an eye.
Instead, she laughs. “All of our clothing is custom tailored to your body. Think of it like being fitted for a wedding dress. You’ll pick out your outfit and then Leonardo will come in and tailor it.”
“Oh.” I glance at Dagen. “Do we have enough time for that? The event is in two days.”
