“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll get one dress.”
He smiles. “Grazie.”
Nick gets his chair out of the back, pops the wheels back on, and climbs back into it. He’s really fast at it, which makes sense considering he’s been in that chair for fourteen years now. Fourteen years since he’s walked, since that night at prom when we spent the night making out—sometimes it seems like yesterday. I watch the way he quickly adjusts his body in his chair when he thinks I’m not watching, like it’s something he doesn’t want me to see. Except all I can think about is how damn good he looks. Even after all this time, I still can’t used to how handsome he looks in a suit. It doesn’t matter to me one bit if his legs don’t move—it never did. If only he had let me stay with him when he first got hurt…
But then I wouldn’t be with Seth, my fiancé, preparing to get married in three months.
God, I’m confused.
“Okay,” he says. “Let’s get you the sexiest dress in that store.”
“To sing in at your club,” I add hurriedly.
He lifts his dark eyes to meet mine. “Right. For my club.”
I let him lead the way into Chanel. The entrance to the store is all windows and the sparse offerings in the front of the store are handbags and scarves that look too expensive to even touch. The entire store reeks of wealth and I feel like I shouldn’t be here. Nick looks like he belongs in a store like this—I don’t. If I went in here alone, they’d probably ask me to leave quietly without making a scene. As it is, I couldn’t buy anything in this store even if I emptied my bank account. Even one of those flimsy scarves is surely out of my price range.
A young, blond-haired woman with a gleaming gold nametag that reads Georgia scurries over breathlessly when she sees Nick. She looks like she’d easily fit into anything in our backstage wardrobe. “Nick!” she exclaims. “Hello! Welcome back!”
How the hell does Nick know the salesgirl at Chanel?
“Hello, Georgia,” he says, returning her smile. “I’m looking for something sexy for Jessie here. Something she can wear at Cleopatra’s.”
Georgia gives me a once-over, a skeptical look on her face. “Cleopatra’s?”
“She’s a singer,” Nick explains as he shifts in his chair.
The salesgirl looks like she might laugh at loud. “Oh. How nice.” She rolls her eyes so quickly that I don’t think Nick sees it. “What size are you?”
“Um.” I bite my lip. “An eight? Or maybe…” I’m almost afraid to say it out loud in this place. “A ten?”
Georgia looks traumatized and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Get over yourself—a ten is not that big!
“I’m not sure if we carry anything that large,” Georgia sniffs.
“Really?” Nick raises his eyebrows at her. “Isn’t the average size for a woman a sixteen? You really don’t carry even an eight? Sorry, but that seems nuts.”
I want to throw my arms around Nick and hug him. For the first time since we walked in, Georgia appears flustered. She tugs at her tiny blouse. “Let me check in the back and see what I can find.”
As soon as Georgia disappears, I shake my head at Nick. “How does she know you?”
He shrugs sheepishly. “Natalie used to come here a lot. A lot. I got dragged along sometimes.”
“Oh.” I glance at the back room, where Georgia is still hidden. “That was a while ago though, wasn’t it? I’m surprised she still remembers you.”
“Yeah.” He averts his eyes. “She and I also went out a couple of times. Oh hey, here she comes.”
Before I can get out another word, Georgia is bustling toward us with an armful of gowns. I watch Georgia sort through the gowns, showing them more to Nick than to me, which is fine because my head is suddenly spinning. Nick seriously went out on a date with this obnoxious girl? When exactly did that happen? Before or after Natalie? Did he cheat on Natalie? Is he still interested in Georgia? Why is she touching his arm?
“Don’t you think so, Jessie?” Nick is saying.
“Huh?” I missed everything that was just going on. Why am I getting so obsessed with Nick and Georgia? Whatever Nick wants to do with other women is his own business. It’s not like I want him to be sitting home at night, pining for me. He ought to be going out with other girls. In fact, good for him!
He grins. “Wake up, Jessie. We’re trying to buy you the dress—not me.”
I smile crookedly. “Right, sorry.”
Georgia is holding up what is actually a very beautiful dress. It’s short but not too short—it hits me several inches above my knees, but luckily, my legs are one of my good features. It has a V-neck and goes off the shoulders. The sleeves are sheer and the entire white dress has a sheer layer of blue lacey flowers.
I reach out to finger the material. “It’s really nice.”
“And I know you like blue,” Georgia says to Nick as she rests a hand on his shoulder. Her fingernails are long and deep purple.
He nods. “It’s great. Try it on, okay?”
Georgia jerks her head to the rear. “Changing rooms are back there.”
I suppose it goes without saying she will keep Nick company while I’m gone. God, she’s practically salivating over him. I know he’s hot, but she could use a little restraint.
The changing room in Chanel is tiny, which makes sense if most women who shop here wear nothing larger than a six. I wriggle into the blue dress, trying not to bang my elbows against the dressing room wall, and even before I manage to get it zipped properly in the back, I can see it fits me perfectly—like it was made for me. When I lean forward, my cleavage taunts me the mirror.
I love this dress more than anything I’ve ever worn in my entire life.
To this point, I hadn’t dared look at the price tag. But now I brave a quick peek—if I’m going to let Nick buy this for me, I’ve got to know. After all, how much could this dress possibly cost? It’s just a dress! And…
Oh my God, I’m sorry I looked.
My hands are shaking now. I love this dress, but there’s no way I can let Nick spend this kind of money on a piece of clothing. No way. I’ll just have to explain that to him, then we can go to Macy’s and buy something more reasonable. We can buy five dresses there for what this dress costs. And still have money left over to pay my rent.
Except when I step out of the dressing room, Nick is waiting for me right outside. The second he sees me, his mouth falls open. I watch his olive skin turn pink and he tugs at his shirt collar. I have a feeling I’m going to have trouble convincing him I shouldn’t buy this dress.
“Wow,” he gasps.
I pull on the hem of the dress, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “It’s not that great.”
“No, it is,” he insists. “It’s really… you look really…” He pauses and takes a breath. “We’re taking it.”
“I’m not so sure,” I mumble.
“Yeah, but I am.”
I adjust the sleeve, trying to think of an excuse to put it back. “It’s a little snug. I’m not even sure if it will zip up in the back.”
He makes a spinning motion with his finger. “Turn around. Let’s get it zipped.”
He wheels closer to me and for a second, I feel his knee brush up against the back of my thigh. His fingers find the zipper and I feel the dress tighten as the edges come together. It’s snug but not too tight—it’s perfect.
As the zipper meets its target, I feel Nick’s fingers linger on my back. Since the night he kissed me at the club, he’s touched me from time to time, here and there—a hand on my shoulder, our knees brushing against each other, fingers touching momentarily on the table when we have a drink at the club. And every time, without fail, my entire body starts to tingle. I feel it now: his fingers on my back, making lightning bolts zigzag down my skin. It doesn’t stop until I turn around to face him.
Nick gazes up at me with those dark eyes. I get the feeling that if he were able to stand so that we were eye-to-eye, he’d lean forward an
d kiss me right now. And if he did, I don’t think I’d be able to push him away. Not this time.
But he can’t stand. So whatever he wants to do to me is out of his reach.
“So how do you feel?” he asks.
My mouth goes dry for a second, until I realize he’s asking about the dress. “It’s… um…”
“It fits perfect, right? I’m buying it for you.”
I glance around to make sure Georgia isn’t listening. “Nick, it’s really expensive.”
“How expensive could it possibly be? It’s a dress.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Go ahead. Take a guess.”
“Five million dollars?”
“Five million dollars?” I don’t think that was a serious guess.
He shrugs. “That’s how much the property I just bought cost.”
I shake my head. “Dresses don’t cost five million dollars.”
“Right. Dresses are cheap. So enjoy it.”
I give him an exasperated look, but I don’t argue with him. I have a feeling no matter what I say, he’s going to insist I buy the dress. And I have to admit, I really, really love it. If he can afford it, well… why not? Anyway, it’s not like I’m wearing it to a party. I’m wearing for a performance at his club. It’s a business expense. It’s deductible. He could probably just… you know, write it off.
Nick
I shouldn’t have mentioned to Jessie that I went out with Georgia.
I knew it was a mistake the second I said it. But she was asking me, and it would be just my dumb luck Georgia would blurt it out and then I’d look like a liar. So it was a choice between being a liar and being a guy who took out the bitchy girl who works at Chanel.
I only took her out once. Maybe twice—I don’t remember. We had dinner somewhere expensive then I took her back to Cleopatra’s and she sat in my lap and we made out a while. We didn’t even go back to my place. I got the sense she liked me for my money and my reputation and not for me. It was one thing when I had Natalie to be my arm candy, but I don’t like to make a habit of it. Anyway, it was before Jessie was around. I have no interest in doing it again, no matter how many times she touches my shoulder and laughs like I’m so goddamn witty.
If there were any chance in hell Georgia’s charm was going to work on me, even for a night, it’s lost when I see Jessie in that blue dress. She looks so good, I almost choke when I see her. It’s the sexiest thing I ever seen aside from if I got to see her naked, which I’m beginning to worry might never happen. And then I get to zip her up. It’s hard to keep myself from touching that soft, white skin on her back as I pull the zipper into place.
Christ, sometimes I think I might get a heart attack from this girl. Or a total eclipse of the heart. Something that might require CPR.
“You better change,” I tell her, trying not to let on how much she’s getting to me. “I’ll take you to an actual restaurant this time. Anywhere you want, since I tricked you into coming here.”
A smile plays on her lips. “Would you take me to McDonald’s?”
“Sweetheart, I’d even take you to Arby’s.”
I wouldn’t really.
Jessie goes to change back into her work clothes and I wheel myself out of the dressing room. Georgia is folding some clothing, but I can tell she was just waiting for me to come out.
“Will your… friend be taking the dress?” she asks me.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll pay for it now.”
“Excellent.” Georgia hurries over to the cash register and I get out my credit card. She’s smiling brightly at me as she runs the card. “We missed you over here, Nick.”
I’ll bet. I’ve dated some real big spenders. Not having a girlfriend for the last nine months has saved me a fortune. “Can’t say the same, unfortunately. This place is expensive.”
Georgia bats her eyelashes at me as she leans over the counter, giving me an eyeful of cleavage. I knew her tits were fake even before I felt them—there’s nothing I hate worse than squeezing silicone. Why don’t I just hook up with a blow-up doll while I’m at it? “Have you missed me at all?”
Before I have to answer that one, I’m saved by the sound of my phone buzzing. I get it out and see Chrissy’s name on the screen. I hold a finger up to an annoyed-looking Georgia and take the call.
“The car belongs to Frank Nucci,” Chrissy says before she even says hello.
Frank Nucci… that sounds really familiar…
“I checked him out,” Chrissy adds. “He’s one of Lombardi’s thugs.”
“Shit,” I mutter. I glance at Georgia, who is clearly trying to listen to my conversation. I lower my voice several notches. “That asshole was following me. I’m sure of it.”
“Why would Lombardi get one of his goons to follow you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to pay him back the courtesy.”
“You want me to call Steve?”
“No, I’ll do it.” I see Jessie emerging from the dressing room, dress in hand. “Later.”
I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. I’ve spent the last nine months trying to convince Jessie I’m not a gangster, so the last thing I want her to know is that I’m getting shadowed by one of the most influential mobsters in the city. I don’t have much time left to get her back. I can’t let her know anything about this.
Chapter 19
Jessie
“Holy crap!”
Seth’s response to my ridiculously expensive Chanel dress is more extreme than expected. Usually when I leave for Cleopatra’s, he gives me a perfunctory kiss before I head out the door. But today he actually lifts his eyes off the television and outright gawks at me. I must have really impressed him if he’s stopped watching The Celebrity Apprentice.
“What?” I say casually.
“That dress.” He grins at me. “It’s sexy.”
He bounds off the couch and meets me by the door. He’s still got that grin on his face as he runs his hand along the curve of my ass. For some reason, I feel myself tensing up.
“It’s new, right?” he asks me.
I can’t tell him Nick Moretti sprung for the dress. “It wasn’t very expensive.”
Seth shrugs. I’ve noticed the last couple of months, he’s been less anxious about money. He even took me to the movies twice in the last month, which has got to be some sort of record. He hasn’t found a new job, but it looks like things have picked up in his law practice—finally. Maybe we could move out of the ghetto soon to a place where we don’t have to have five deadbolts on our door.
Seth leans in and kisses me on the neck. He whispers in my ear, “Maybe I should come watch you perform tonight.”
“You don’t really want to do that, do you?”
He frowns at me. “You don’t want me to come?”
I hesitate. Do I want him to come?
When I perform every night, Nick sits at the front table. I look straight at him when I sing, and it almost feels like I’m giving him a private show. Every lyric I sing, I’m singing it to him. Alex compliments me on the passion in my voice, but I know that it’s all because of Nick. And then when it’s over, we have a drink together and sometimes stick around for several hours. It’s the best part of my day.
Seth’s presence would ruin it.
“I’m just doing a lot of songs in my set tonight that I know you don’t like,” I explain carefully.
He narrows his eyes. “Like what?”
“Well, I’m opening with ‘Bad Name,’” I say. I got the idea in my head that Bon Jovi’s “Bad Name” would be really sexy if I slowed it down. I spent a week singing it around the house until Seth complained that I was giving him a Bad Headache. I tried it out for Nick, who nixed it, and the song never went live. But Seth doesn’t know that—he only knows he hates the song. “And of course, I’ll be singing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’…”
“Ugh.” Seth winces. “How come you always do that dumb song?”
Beca
use I love it?
“Also,” I say, “there’s this Mariah Carey song that I haven’t done before that I’ll be—”
“Okay, okay,” he grumbles. “I’m out.” He leans in and kisses my nose. “Have fun singing Bon Jovi and Mariah Carey. Don’t come home too late.”
I know Seth so well.
I wear a trench coat on the subway, because I’m worried that I could get attacked in this slinky number. But the second I walk into Cleopatra’s, I strip off my coat so I can show off the sexiness of my new dress. The bouncer gives me an appreciative once-over and then I run into Alex by the stage, who seems even more impressed than the bouncer.
“Wow,” Alex says. “Nice dress. A step up from your usual.”
Alex is the master of the backhanded compliment. Despite my loyal audience, I know he’d fire me in a second if Nick wasn’t pulling the strings. He still doesn’t think I’m a Cleopatra girl.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Nice tits,” he adds.
I roll my eyes, but I’m not entirely upset. I know Alex likes his women to be stick figures, so getting a compliment on my appearance from him is a rare treat. And it’s all because of this beautiful albeit ridiculously expensive dress Nick bought me.
Nick
I’m not sure why, but tonight feels different from all the other nights.
As I sit at my usual table, nursing my beer, I feel a sense of anticipation in the pit of my stomach more intense than anything I’ve felt in a long time. I loosen my tie and undo the top button on my shirt in an effort to relax. Jessie’s gonna come onstage any minute. I want to enjoy it.
When she finally comes out, she’s wearing that dress I bought her—the one she didn’t want to buy because it was too expensive. I’m glad she caved—it looks so goddamn sexy, I want to rush the stage, which I obviously wouldn’t do even if it were physically possible. She looks that good though. Her golden hair is glowing in the light of the stage.
She takes the microphone in her hand and comes to the edge of the stage. I look up at her, my heart beating fast in my chest. It always feels like she’s singing directly to me. She must be really talented to make guys feel like that. I mean, the girl makes Lionel Richie sound sexy.
The Girl I Didn't Kill For (Jessie & Nick Book 2) Page 11