I open her door and help her inside like a proper gentleman.And she doesn’t sneer or shy away, she goes along with my pretense.
But there’s nothing gentlemanly about the way I light out of the garage and down the driveway, stopping just long enough for the gate to open.I floor it after that and the car roars like a wild beast that’s finally been freed from captivity, finally freed from the darkness where it’s been caged for a whole decade.
Just like me.
So I roar right along with it, getting a very alarmed look from Goldie.But I also see it in her eyes that she understands me perfectly.
She knows all about captivity, my pretty golden rose.And I’m teaching her a brand-new lesson in it right now.
But I will teach her all about freedom too.Just as soon as I’m done slaying all the demons of my past.
Chapter5
GIANNA
I’m gettingserious Pretty Woman vibes as I walk into the wonderfully cool, airy, and light department store he brought me to.The place is mostly empty, not surprising since one glance at a price tag near the entrance tells me very few can afford to shop here.The model-pretty sales ladies, all wearing skin-tight black outfits look at me as I enter, and there’s a nearly identical look of sneer and disdain on their faces.
Not surprising, since the clothes I’m wearing are a size or two too big on me, and I slept in them besides.My hair is in a messy bun on top of my head and I’m wearing no makeup.To them, I probably look homeless.Which isn’t a look I’m going for, but it’s actually the truth.
Matteo got a phone call right after we parked and told me to go on in alone.Probably didn’t want me to hear whatever he was going to talk about with the caller.So it’s probably about my father and the rest of my family.
I walk to the first rack, which holds just evening dresses of all colors, shapes, and cuts, sparkling even in the daylight.I don’t need a fancy evening dress.But I need to hide from the sneering sales ladies.
I don’t succeed.No less than four of them converge on me, one of them coming closer, looking down at me via her long, perfectly shaped nose, which I’m sure was not given to her by God, but some plastic surgeon.
“Can I help you?”she asks and it sounds like it’s the absolute last thing she wants to do.
“I’m just looking,” I mutter.I don’t actually have the energy for this.I got a surge of it after speaking to my sister.And after the wild ride in that roaring car.But now I kind of just want to lie down and go to sleep for a while.It’s been a long two weeks.
“I don’t think you’ll find anything in this section,” she says pompously and I’m certain that bythis sectionshe actually meansthis store.
“You’re probably right,” I say.“Everything here is very last season.”
Back in my old life, I had the pick of new collections before they hit stores and runways.It’s a stupid thing to miss, given everything else I’m missing now.And I really don’t.
“You arrogant little?—”
“Did you see anything you like?”Matteo asks and I can actually hear the sales lady swallow the rest of the insult in a large gulp.
I didn’t feel him coming close.Can I no longer feel the heat of his presence?Why?Because I tried to kill him?
“Not really,” I say, staring pointedly and the woman who now has a big smile stretched across her face.It makes her filler-filled lips look like two over inflated tiny sausages.I don’t want to like any of this, but I’m liking this part of the Pretty Woman vibes.The one where the rich guy buys everything in the store for me.
“If they have any new season stuff, I’ll take a look,” I say.“But otherwise…”
“You’d like to go somewhere else?”
I look at him and nod, then wrap my arm under his and lean on him.It makes the sunshine and heat come back, all of it.And it makes me think back to the days when I waited for him in the night, in my bedroom, waiting for the stolen kisses and the magic only he can bring.
The sales lady clears her throat.“Sure, yes, of course, follow me,” she says and walks away fast, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
The rest move even faster, but we follow at a slower pace.He places his hand over mine on his arm and I let him.He’s put on the ring I saw hanging off the leather strap around his neck, the one that also held the key to my room and a large engagement ring.
The ring is on his pinky, gold and black and it looks like it was made just for him, although I know it must be his family ring, the one that signifies who is the boss and who is not.My father wore one a lot like it.But with a ruby stone.There’s writing in the gold that I can’t quite read, and a faint outline in the black stone that I also can’t make out.One day I’ll look closer.Or not.
The sales ladies lead us into a large dressing room, complete with plush white armchairs, wraparound mirrors, and pretty screens to try on clothes behind and a view of palm trees and the sky.
“This is more like it,” I say.
