She passed the post office and paused, mind drawing a blank as she tried to remember if she ever sent off the rent. She remembered getting paid and then waking up in her bed, which was odd because she never slept in her underthings. Everything else about that day was a blur. She made a mental note to check with the phone company to see if they got their payment.
Moving onward, she continued towards the higher end stuff, stuff she could never in a million years afford, not even if she saved every paycheck from now until the end of time. Just walking the sidewalk made her feel out of place.
Guilt won over, she began turning back, needing to return to the thrift shops and bargain bins when something in one of the glossy windows caught her like a moth to a flame.
The dress was beyond gorgeous. Red satin with straps around the neck and a full skirt that would have made Marilyn Monroe proud, it was the gem of dresses. Not that she would ever have a place to wear such an extravagant thing, but… God, it was beautiful. The beadwork across the bodice showered down the front, falling like dew drops on a rose petal across the skirt. Riley couldn’t imagine what the price tag on such a gown would be, but she was sure the teller wouldn’t even let her touch the material without a hefty down payment.
“Riley?”
Riley jumped at the unexpected interruption to her drooling. Her head came up, turning away from her dream dress to find Octavian standing a few feet away with a curious look on his face as he took her in.
“Hi!” she said. “What are you doing here?”
He jerked a head towards the shops along the street. “Running some errands.” He moved to stand at her side and observe the dress. “It’s beautiful.”
Riley sighed without thinking. “Yeah, it is, and so very out of my budget.”
Octavian said nothing, but studied the gown with a contemplating tilt of his head.
“Are you heading back to work?” she asked, breaking the silence.
He shook his head. “I don’t work until this evening. I usually get the mornings off since I do the majority of the bartending at night.”
She already knew that, but she didn’t want to rush the conversation and have him leave.
“What brings you here?” he asked, turning away from the dress to focus on her.
Riley jerked her shoulders in a shrug. “It’s my day off. I’m kind of just wandering around.”
His eyes narrowed. “So you’re not busy?”
She shook her head. “No. What?” she asked when he continued to eye her.
“How would you feel about helping me with a task?”
Suspicion had her eyebrow arching. “What kind of task?”
“Mom’s birthday’s coming up—”
“Ah!” she interrupted. “That explains what she meant by feeling her age. Gotcha. Continue.”
His mouth quirked into a half smile. “I want to buy her something she’ll like.”
“You mean something cooler than a label maker?” she teased, earning a scowl from him. “That’s going to be hard to beat.”
“They told you about that, did they?”
“Reggie,” she said.
“It seemed like a really good idea at the time,” he muttered defensively.
Riley chuckled. “Hey, I’m on your side. Label makers rock.”
His eyes narrowed warily. “I can’t tell if you’re mocking me or not.”
“Noooo.” She shook her head. “Nope. I wouldn’t do that.”
“I don’t believe you.” But he let the matter drop as he continued. “Dad wants to have a party for her at the diner. I’m hoping that since you’re a girl…”
Riley bit her lip, holding back the grin threatening to show. “How observant of you.”
“What I mean is that you’ll know if I get her something stupid again.”
Enjoying his discomfort a bit more than she should, Riley narrowed her eyes. “What’s in it for me?”
Something in the air solidified as tension swam up around them. His eyes became dark pools of silver. “What do you want?”
Unconsciously, her gaze dropped to his lips, her mind already made up. But uncertainty had her hesitating. “I reserve the right to call you on it at a later time. When I do, you have to swear to honor it.”
His hesitation was palpable. She could almost taste it. Then, very slowly, he nodded. “I swear.”
She grinned. “Then you have a deal.”
They didn’t shake on it. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him further up the money highway, the land of no return. Several times, Riley tried to tell him neither of them could afford even breathing the air on that side of the town, but she could never bring herself to say the words out loud.
“What about a purse?” she asked as they passed several designer bags on a display case behind a window.
He shook his head. “She has a million of them.”
“A woman can never have enough purses.” she countered, but continued onward. “How about a watch?” She stopped to point at a beautiful gold watch with a pearl face in a jewelry shop window.
“Magnus got her one.”
“Shoes?”
“I don’t know her size.”
“Scarf?”
“What would she do with it?”
“Wear it?” But the way he was watching her as though she’d lost her mind made her question her own sanity regarding the silky scraps of fabric.
He shook his head. “Something else.”
“A dress?”
They paused outside a boutique and surveyed the mannequin poised behind the display window. It was wearing a beautiful flower printed dress that was clearly not made for the winter weather.
“A dress would work,” he mused. Then, without waiting for her, he yanked open the door to the shop and ushered her inside.
Riley grimaced. “Octavian, we really shouldn’t—” But her warning to leave before they were laughed out of the store was interrupted by a tall, unnaturally skinny man in a thousand dollar suit. He glided out from behind a set of burgundy curtains with his bony hands interlocked at his midsection. He eyed them from down the length of his parrot nose.
“May I help you?” His voice oozed with snobbish arrogance. Already he was thinking they didn’t belong. Riley could see it in the way he took in Octavian’s black jeans and leather jacket, but the disgust intensified when his gaze jumped to her worn jeans and thrift shop jacket. Maybe he was hoping she would be dressed better because she was a girl. What a disappointment for him.
“We’re looking for a dress,” Octavian said, ignoring or not noticing the aversion on the man’s face. “Something purple or—”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we are a specialty shop.”
Octavian raised an interested brow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” the man purred in his arrogant voice. “That we cater to the most exclusive cliental.”
“And we’re not exclusive?” Octavian said.
The man merely offered a smug smirk concealed in a sympathetic shrug. “I’m sorry.”
“Come on, Octavian.” Riley took his elbow. “We don’t need his filthy rags.”
“Filthy rags?” the man squeaked, horrified.
Riley returned his outrage with a sneer.
Octavian ignored them both. “What exactly does one have to do to become exclusive?”
“Well.” The man turned his attention away from Riley to focus on Octavian. “We are very selective, I’m afraid. Not just anyone can—”
Octavian dug into his back pocket and removed a sleek credit card. He held it up between his fingers so the man’s bulgy eyes could get a good look at it. “Something like this?”
The man all but jingled like a cash register. “Yes sir! That is perfect. How may I serve you and your lovely companion?”
Octavian tucked the card back into his pocket — no wallet for him, Riley noted with interest. “You can’t. I’m afraid I’m too exclusive for your business and need to find a store catering to my standard of shoppin
g.”
It was pure pleasure watching the man’s jaw hit the floor as Octavian turned to the door.
“Let’s go, Green-eyes.”
Riley smirked at the man, who looked about ready to burst into tears. She flipped him the bird as they left his store.
“That was amazing!” She crowed, twirling around on her heel to face Octavian. “Did you see the look on his face? Priceless! What an asshole.”
Octavian chuckled. “Yeah, I hate people like that.”
Spinning back around to face forward, Riley did a little skip. “So is that thing real and what happened to your wallet? You didn’t lose it again did you?”
He glanced at her, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I hope so, otherwise I’ll need to have a word with my bank and no, my wallet is safe at home.”
Still laughing, Riley shook her head. “So, where to now?”
Octavian shrugged. “You tell me.”
She glanced around them at all the gleaming stores with their fancy fonts and expensive merchandise. She’d never felt so out of place.
“I don’t know. I don’t shop here and I’m pretty sure that if I walk into any of these stores with you, we’ll have a repeat performance of what just happened.”
“Why’s that?”
Riley stared at him. “Seriously?” She fidgeted when he continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer. “I don’t belong on this street,” she said at last. “These people don’t cater to people like me.”
“I see.” Was all he said after a moment. “Let’s go here.”
Without waiting for her, he stepped into the next shop, another boutique, but this one had the sense to display a fall line.
“Hello.” A woman with hair the color of platinum appeared from behind a rack before the bell had even stopped jingling. She observed them with quick, judgmental glances, but was smart enough not to show her distaste. “Can I help you?”
“We’re looking for a dress,” Octavian told her.
The woman nodded slowly. “Is it for this young lady?” She gestured at Riley.
Riley began shaking her head, but Octavian beat her to it. “No, but she will be trying them on.”
Riley started. “I what?”
Neither seemed to be listening to her as the woman did a quick circle around her, summing her up with a shrewd once over that made Riley shift awkwardly.
“We have a few items her size. I think a nice emerald tone—”
“It’s not for me,” Riley interjected. “And, dude, your mom and I so do not share the same size,” she told Octavian. “She’s is all tall and willowy with some serious curves. I’m… well, none of those things.”
“But at least I’ll get an idea of what I like best.” Octavian replied simply. Then, to the woman, he said, “Bring out what you have and show us to a changing room.”
The woman inclined her head. “As you wish.”
Octavian followed, leaving Riley no choice but to do the same. They were shown to a back room with velvet drapes in navy blue hanging on the walls and twin settees facing a miniature sized stage lined with walls. The woman left them, saying something about getting a few samples over and being right back. Riley stood horrified as she stared at the platform with its spotlights and mirrors. She had to go up there and model dresses?
“Are you insane?” She turned on Octavian. “You didn’t say anything about me having to try stuff on.”
Making himself at home in one of the settees, Octavian shrugged. “I didn’t know we would be looking for a dress and I can’t buy something I haven’t seen on a live model.”
“But I—”
“I’ll owe you,” he coaxed.
“Dude, you’ll owe me double!” Riley groaned, trying and failing not to panic. “I’m not a model. If anything, I’ll make everything look like crap.”
His head notched to the side, his eyes dancing with amusement, but his face remained thoughtful, a little sad. “Unbelievable.”
Riley huffed, folding her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I have a hard time believing you have no idea how beautiful you are.”
Riley snorted, cheeks flushing. “You haven’t seen me in pink.” She wiped the sweat on her palms off on her jeans. “Red hair only goes with like three other colors.”
“What if I told you.” He rose slowly to his feet, hardly making a sound as he crossed over to her. He stopped mere inches from her, so close that her nose was a millimeter from his chest. The lack of distance forced her neck back until she could peer up into his face. “That the thing I love most, well, is your eyes, but your hair…” His hand came up and her breath caught as it drifted to the side of her face. With a gentle sweep that never touched her, yet she felt straight down to her toes, he grazed a strand of hair resting against her cheek. “It’s the color of a sunset on a summer morning, bright and vivid and highlighted by so many strands of burgundy and gold that there is no way to name them all. There is nothing else like it.”
Unconsciously, she reached for him. Her fingers made to touch the hand still playing with the air by her right temple, to bring it closer, but it was gone. He’d jerked away. The moment was shattered. Riley stared at him, trying not to show her hurt.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Embarrassed, crushed, she shook her head. “No, my fault. I shouldn’t have…”
The woman returned then, pushing a rack of dresses ahead of her. She tossed three over her arm and motioned for Riley to follow her behind the curtain. Riley did without a word, needing to get away from the bone crushing misery in Octavian’s eyes. She couldn’t understand it. Why wouldn’t he touch her? He clearly wanted to as much as she did.
Chapter 12
Each dress was more beautiful than the last and each new one made Riley want to keep it. It was as though they were made especially for her, made to flatter her curves, her hair, her skin, even her eyes. She was a bit crushed a little more each time she had to take it off, but she knew it was for the best. It said something when the dresses had no price tags on them. She didn’t normally like assuming things, but she’d bet money on her assumption that it was way out of her budget.
“That one,” Octavian finally said the moment she walked out on stage and did a twirl.
Riley looked down at the elegant, knee-length dress in soft plum. It was sleeveless with a low V neckline and a fitting skirt that clung everywhere. There was a thick, gold belt around the middle with a huge floral buckle that covered her abdomen. It wasn’t something she would pick for herself, honestly. Not unless she was going to some executive board meeting, but she could definitely see it on Kyaerin.
“She’ll love it,” Riley said approvingly. “And it will look great on her.”
Octavian nodded, his gray eyes still working over her in slow, even strokes.
Riley felt herself flush all over and she had to remind herself that he was just looking at the dress and the dark look in his eyes had nothing to do with her, but he’d had that look every time she’d walked out, like he wanted to jump the stage and… no. She had to get those thoughts out of her head. He’d made it clear that he hated the idea of touching her. Jumping her was probably out of the question.
“I’ll go change,” she whispered, turning on her bare feet and hurrying into the back.
She didn’t expel the air in her lungs until she was in the safety of the change room. Her hands shook as she unzipped the dress and draped it over the hanger. The woman — Cecily — poked her head in and asked if she needed help. Riley shook her head, passing over the purple dress.
“He liked this one.”
Cecily took it, complimented his taste and left to find one in Kyaerin’s size.
By the time Riley was dressed and composed, Octavian was already standing at the shop doors, looking over the street with a pretty pink and black bag in hand.
“So, I guess our mission is complete.” She ventured over to him.
He turn
ed away from the autumn gloom pressing down on them in thick tufts of dark gray, matching his eyes as they took her in. “Not quite.”
Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) Page 15