by Lisa Levine
“Yeah, but that’s because I love you,” I said.
She gave me a strange look over the top of her coffee cup again.
“You’re my best friend,” I said.
“I need to get back to work,” she said as she started to get up from the cafe table.
“Wait, before you go, I just had an idea. What about a double date?
“You want to take two women out instead of one?” she asked. “That seems like it would be counterproductive to what you’re trying to achieve.”
“No,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “I meant a double date with you.”
“Huh? No thanks. I think I would rather rub broken glass in my eyes than be set up with one of your cocky, arrogant friends. No offense.”
“Please?” I pleaded. “I’ll pick someone I know isn’t a jerk, I promise. I actually do have a few decent male friends, you know.”
“Why would you even want me to come along on one of your dates?” she asked.
“Because I trust your judgment more than anyone; I think I actually trust it more than I trust my own. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I tend to get distracted by a pretty face.”
Ivy rolled her eyes so far back into her head that I could see the whites of them. “Yeah,” she said. “Trust me, I’ve noticed.”
“It doesn’t make me a bad guy, though, does it?”
“Of course not, it’s just part of your devilish charm,” she said with a smirk.
I laughed. Something about having Ivy call me devilish was superbly amusing to me. “Okay, so it’s settled then; double date tomorrow night at eight o’clock. We’ll come by and pick you up at your apartment.”
“Hang on now,” she said. “I didn’t agree to anything yet.”
I pretended to check the time on my phone. “Oh geez, you’re late for your shift, better get back to work. I’ll text you later. Make sure you wear something cute tomorrow night.”
Ivy started to protest some more, but I got up and quickly walked away before she could refuse again. It was settled. We would be going on a double date tomorrow night, and Ivy would help me find a steady girlfriend. Maybe she would even like the guy that I set her up with. I just need to decide which one of my friends—I used the term lightly—she would relate to the most. None of them were really bibliophiles who would be able to hang with her quirkiness or her intelligence. Most of them were just like me, except I just played the part on the surface, while they all really were the way that they acted.
I might enjoy some of the perks that came with being a billionaire, like the endless stream of expendable money at my fingertips and the lavish socialite parties that were always filled to the brim with beautiful people. But, on the inside, Ivy and I were more alike than I think she knew. I definitely wasn’t as reserved or as well-read as she was, but I wasn’t clueless about half of the authors she would tell me about. And even I enjoyed an evening at home curled up with a good movie instead of being at a party every night of the week. Being a high-profile billionaire could be exhausting, not that I was complaining. I knew my life was easier than most.
“Hey, man,” I said as I called up one of my friends who I knew was still single and wasn’t quite as much of a pompous fool as some of the other guys. “I’ve got this awesome friend and was wondering if you might like to go out on a double date with us tomorrow night?”
“Is she hot?” he asked through the phone.
“Yeah,” I said. “She’s beautiful.”
For a second, I hesitated to say anything else while the words that had just come out of my mouth lingered in my mind. Ivy was beautiful; she was actually one of the most beautiful women I had ever met. It just felt strange to talk about her like that. She wasn’t a glamorous kind of beautiful; she was a raw, natural, and wild kind of beautiful. The kind that didn’t need any makeup or fancy clothes. She was the kind of beautiful that just existed in a way that society didn’t like because it would put the cosmetics industry out of business.
“All right,” he said. “I’m down, but you’re buying drinks.”
“Deal,” I said. “Hey, listen, maybe take it slow with her. I don’t think she’s been on many dates recently, and she’s a friend.
“If you’re worried about me sexing her up at the bar, then sure; I’ll wait a few hours or so before I move in with my irresistible wiles of seduction.”
Yeah, that was exactly what I was worried about. I really hoped this wasn’t a bad idea.
When I got back to my desk at work, I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out my phone. I also tucked in my shirt that was halfway sticking out. I was surprised Ivy hadn’t said anything about that; she usually didn’t miss an opportunity to tell me that something was amiss.
“Hey,” I texted to her.
“Hey.” Her text came through within a second or two.
She was always amazing at responding immediately. That was another thing that I couldn’t seem to find with the women I had been dating. It was like everything was a game to them, instead of just being normal and honest and answering texts when you saw them.
“Look, about the double date; I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” she texted.
“Too late,” I typed. “I already bought you a dress. Now you have to come.” I hesitated before pressing send but did it anyway.
“You did?”
I knew she was feeling guilty now and that she would come even if she really didn’t want to. I felt kind of bad about it, but I wanted her to come more than I cared about feeling a tinge of pressing guilt.
“Okay,” her text said. “I’ll come.”
I still didn’t know if this was a good idea and making Ivy do something that she didn’t want to do made me feel off. But it was too late now; we were doing it. I buzzed my new secretary into my office, the one I had been telling Ivy about this morning. I had several secretaries, but since this one was brand new, she had the easiest tasks to do. I knew that she would be available to help me this afternoon.
“Yes, Mr. Wilder?” she said when she appeared in my doorway.
“It’s Janet, right?” I asked as politely as I could. There were too many employees to remember all of their names.
“Yes, sir.”
“You don’t need to call me sir,” I laughed. “Unless you want a spanking on my lap.”
She looked at me in horror.
“Oh, God,” I said as soon as I realized that she thought I was serious. “Janet, I was just joking. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” she laughed with a huge sigh of relief. “No problem, I thought I might have gotten in over my head here for a minute.”
See? That was what I was talking about. I couldn’t relate to women, except for Ivy.
“Janet, I need you to run an errand for me this afternoon, please,” I said as I quickly changed the subject before I got slapped with a sexual harassment charge. “I need you to go buy me the most beautiful dress you can find—size four, something sexy but not too sexy.”
She stared at me in an uneasy confusion again.
“It’s for my friend, Ivy. We have a double date tomorrow night, and she needs a dress.”
Again, she sighed with relief and held out her hand as I gave her my credit card. Being the CEO of your own company meant that sending secretaries on personal errands was all part of the job.
“Any particular color or style?” she asked.
“Just whatever you think is the prettiest,” I said.
I didn’t think she was impressed with my answer. I guessed I should have given her some sort of guidance since the dress was for my friend and I should have known something about what my friend would like. It didn’t matter, at least there would be a dress. Janet seemed to look nice all of the time, so I was sure that her taste in clothing was fine. After she left, I tackled the pile of work on my desk.
I had completely lost track of time when Janet arrived back at my office with a garment bag in her hand. It was already early evening, and I still had a ton of
work to get done.
“Here you go, sir—I mean, Mr. Wilder,” she caught herself and blushed.
“Thanks,” I said without really looking up since I was buried in work still. “You can leave it on the chair.”
She set down the dress and started to walk away.
“Oh, Janet,” I called as I remembered one more thing that I needed her to do. “Make a call for me please, just flip through my contacts and pick any name that has a pink heart by it. Call one of them up and tell them that I asked you to call them to schedule a date with me for tomorrow night at eight.” I looked up when she didn’t respond. This poor girl was just completely shocked by me, it seemed.
“Any of them?” she asked.
“Yeah, doesn’t matter, just pick one and then text me who it is.”
“What if the one I pick declines the invitation? Should I just pick another one?” she asked.
“They won’t decline,” I said.
I continued with my work after Janet had left to make the call for me. After a few minutes, she texted a name to my phone—Heather. I couldn’t remember off the top of my head which girl that was, but I was sure I’d remember her once I saw her face tomorrow night. I glanced over at the garment bag and got up to look inside it out of pure curiosity. When I unzipped the bag and pulled the dress out, I was immediately disappointed. This dress didn’t look like something Ivy would wear at all. She wouldn’t be caught dead in anything pink.
I looked at the stack of work on my desk and decided to sacrifice it in lieu of running to the store myself. If I were going to twist Ivy’s arm into going on this date with me, the least I could do was not try to make her wear a hideous dress that looked like something that fell off one of those plastic dolls that kids play with. I grabbed the dress and my keys and headed out for the night.
“Did you get my text?” Janet called as I walked past her desk.
“Yep, perfect, thanks! I’m heading out for the evening. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Wilder.”
I tossed the dress into the backseat of my Audi and drove toward the stretch of street that I knew had a bunch of cool clothing shops on. I didn’t bother to return the other one—another perk of being a billionaire was that returning stuff never mattered. I’d drop it off at a homeless shelter and make some woman’s day with it.
“Good evening,” the saleslady at the first boutique that I walked into said as soon as I had stepped foot inside the door.
I hated pushy salespeople, and I could already tell that she was going to hover. I took a quick look and turned around and walked right back out.
I peered into the windows of several shops that I walked past, but nothing was catching my attention. Until I saw a hip-looking bohemian shop and decided to duck inside and give it a try, it looked a bit like a music festival had thrown up inside of the place, but there were some really beautiful dresses hanging on the back wall that I immediately headed toward.
The woman behind the counter gave me a smile and a subdued “hey” as I walked in—a much better vibe than the last store.
I didn’t even have to look around because as soon as I saw it, I knew it was the one. I reached up and pulled down the dress off the wall. It was short and thin, and it looked like it was held together by lace and sparkly things more than actual fabric, but it was perfect. It was enchanting and sexy, like something a wood nymph would wear. Even the dark jade-green color of it would go perfectly with Ivy’s dark-brown hair. I could actually envision it on her, and for a minute, I found myself thinking about it for a bit too long.
“It’s a beauty,” the woman from the counter said as she walked up beside me in order to help me take it off the hanger displaying it. “I can already tell that you want it.”
“Oh?” I said. “How so?” I was really hoping that this chick didn’t turn out to be pushy, too. I was having too good a feeling about this place to have the mood of it ruined.
She pointed down at my pants, and I looked down, thinking that I had accidentally left my zipper open or spilled my coffee on them. But no, instead I was looking at the answer to the question I had just asked her. She could tell that I wanted to get the dress because my body had a visceral reaction that resulted in a very visible bulge at my crotch.
She grinned and walked over to the counter to wrap up the dress while I stood there in complete embarrassment and shock. The only thing was that I wasn’t as shocked about the reaction as I was about the fact that it had happened while I was thinking about Ivy.
4
Chapter Three (Ivy)
“Why did I agree to this?” I asked Bridget as I was getting ready for the double date tonight.
Easton had dropped off the dress for me at the bookstore earlier in the day, and I hadn’t even taken it out of the bag to look at yet.
“I wouldn’t say that you necessarily agreed, per se. I think it was more like you got coaxed into it,” Bridget said as she lifted the dress out of the bag. “Wow, though. This is stunning.”
She turned around and held the dress up in her hands. I stared at it in disbelief. It was perfect. I couldn’t have chosen anything more beautiful and more me if I had picked it out myself. She checked the tag on the inside.
“It’s even the right size,” she said, visibly impressed. “Every once in a while, Easton impresses me.”
I laughed as I reached for the dress. “You need to ease up on him a bit, I think. He’s a really good guy,” I said.
“I’m sure he is,” Bridget said as she gave me some side-eye. “When he’s not busy being an arrogant, billionaire playboy.”
“I don’t think he’s arrogant.” I frowned.
“That’s because you’re in love with him.”
I stopped putting on the dress and stood there in my bra and panties, looking at Bridget’s reflection in the mirror in front of me. No one had actually ever said that out loud before, not even me. I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know what to think about it.
“Don’t try to deny it,” she said as she motioned her hand at me to keep getting ready. “Just put on the damn dress.”
I slid the dress over my head and pulled it down over my hips. It was sheer nearly to the point of being see-through, but all of the patterns on the lace and sequins made it a bit less revealing. Still, though, it was ultra-sexy. I was surprised that Easton had chosen this dress. I was sure he knew that I would love it, but it was oozing with sensuality, which made me wonder if he were trying to provoke a reaction from his friend tonight or whether there was another reason for wanting to see me in it. The dress reached the top of my thighs, but if I bent over, it would show everything.
“You should skip panties for tonight,” Bridget said mischievously.
“What? No!” I said in shock.
“Oh please, don’t act so damn virginal all of the time,” she teased.
If only she knew how virginal I really was.
I started to tie my hair up into a twist at the back of my head, but Bridget batted it down with her hands.
“Leave it down, it makes you look way hotter when your hair is down,” she said.
As soon as she had turned around to go grab my shoes up from off of my bedroom floor, I twisted it back up again. I didn’t need Easton’s friend to have any more encouragement than this dress. Even if his friend was hot, I wasn’t interested.
Bridget sighed and made a derisive face when she came back out and saw that I had put my hair back up. But before she could say anything else, the doorbell rang, and she ran to open it. I slid on my heels, which I couldn’t even remember having worn in ages, and tried to gracefully balance on them as I grabbed my wristlet and walked out to meet Easton.
When I got to the door, it felt like one of those moments that I had read about it my books; time seemed to stop. I stared and Easton, and he stared back at me. Neither of us said a word for what felt like much too long to be a minute.
“Well, okay,” Bridget said in an overly dramat
ic tone. “So, this is the part where you guys say hi.”
I suddenly felt ridiculously embarrassed and forced myself to snap out of it. Easton still seemed to be stuck in some sort of stasis, though.
“Hi,” I said to him as casually as I could.
It was difficult not to sound frantically excited as I looked at him, though. He had on a pair of tight, black skinny jeans that hugged his crotch in a way that made it impossible not to glance at the impressive package that rested beneath the fabric. And a black T-shirt that highlighted his muscular arms and was again slightly untucked as if he were taunting me to touch him.
Bridget made a sound like she was clearing her throat as she stared at him.
“Yeah, hi,” Easton finally said without taking his eyes off me.
It was the dress; it had to have been the dress. He was probably imagining what it would look like on his date and was likely wishing that he had gotten it for her instead of me. I walked up to him and went to tuck in his shirt. It was, after all, the reason that he was bringing me along—to help him impress a future girlfriend. I figured that I might as well try to live up to his expectation of my role as a best friend. At the very least, it would give me something to focus on besides how badly I wanted him. That was definitely not going to be helpful on his double date.
But when I went to grab the bottom of his shirt and tuck it just inside the waistband of his jeans, his hand reflexively grabbed my wrist, not in a way to stop me from doing it, but more in a way to keep me there. I looked up at him, and I could tell by the shocked expression on his face that his reaction had surprised us both. I tucked in his shirt and then waited for him to let go of my wrist as it brushed up against his pants.
“Sorry,” I said quietly. “I didn’t mean to do that without asking. I just figured you’d want it like that.”
“Want what?” Easton asked. His breathing sounded heavy, and he still hadn’t let go of my wrist yet.