The ivory-colored satin lining and tiny, crystal-embellished fern-leaf fabric were encased in ultra-fine tulle. The overall effect was like being wrapped in delicate fern leaves crafted from jewels.
The gown cost more than a small car, but it was a speck of dust compared to the depth of my feelings. It was the perfect gala outfit for her. If she came.
The long, tight, strapless dress was already a showstopper, but when the stylist paired it with chunky black Stella McCartney ankle boots and a gold-shimmer clutch, it became the main headline.
Ivy could wear a sack and make it look amazing… but if she decided to go to the gala, I wanted her to wear a dress like no other. One that made her feel like a queen.
I longed to see her again. To hold her.
The terrifying possibility of never seeing her again twisted through me like a knife.
***
Stepping back, I inspected the charcoal-colored tuxedo Dyson had chosen for the Moonlight Gala. “Looking smooth,” I said with a smile. “Very gala-ready.”
“Well, I didn’t want to disappoint the ladies.” He smiled, making the final adjustments in the full-length mirror.
Brushing a speck from my jacket, I straightened my bow tie over the top button of my Tom Ford tuxedo shirt before slipping on the dark midnight-blue jacket. I ran my fingers over the soft velvet as it caught the light spilling through the window.
“Careful.” Dyson tilted his head sideways and frowned. “Keep dressing like that and people are going to assume you’ve got your life together.” He flashed a grin.
“God forbid.” I smirked. “Meanwhile, you look like you’re about to walk the red carpet.”
“I practically invented the red carpet.” He smirked, grabbed the keys off the bureau, then shoved them into his pocket. “Right, if we don’t want to be late for our own gala,” he said, opening the door, “let’s hustle.”
“You go ahead… I need to sort something first.” I pulled out a chair at the table, scrolled through my phone, then hit Call before switching to speaker.
“Ah, trying to get Cinderella to the ball?” He bowed theatrically. “Godspeed, Prince Charming.”
“Hilarious,” I muttered as he closed the door behind him.
“What’s hilarious?” the voice on the phone asked.
“Oh, sorry.” I chuckled nervously. “That wasn’t meant for you. This is Karson—is this Sass?”
“Oh, right, Kaarson.” She drew out the vowels. “Yep, this is Sass.”
“I got your number a while back when Ivy’s battery died and she called you from my phone. Sorry to bother you. I’ve been messaging and calling her, but she won’t… she hasn’t…” I exhaled. “You get the picture.”
“I get it,” Sass said quietly. “But how can I help?”
Damn. I should’ve planned this better.“Could you maybe persuade her to talk to me?” I shifted in my chair as tension prickled up my neck. “Please.There’s something I need to ask her.”
“Sorry, Karson, but Ivy’s not here. She’s at work.”
“Oh,” I said, quashing a pang of disappointment.
“Wait, I’ll text you the number. And Karson, just be warned, she might not want to talk to you. You hurt her badly, and she’s worked hard to move on. But please…sort this out. She’s been miserable since you split.” She sighed. “Oh, and ifyou do work things out, don’t fuck it up again, or you’ll have me to deal with.”
“If she ever gives me another chance, believe me, I won’t. And Sass? Thankyou.” I ended the call.
Miserable? Could she actually miss me after I ghosted her and acted like a selfish jerk?
I’d royally screwed up. I called the number Sass sent me, silently praying Ivy would hear me out.
“Sizzling Hot, Miki speaking.”
I cleared my throat. “Hey, Miki,” I said awkwardly, “it’s Karson.”
