by Chelle Sloan
“I’m barely a month into my separation. I have no business asking out a woman. Plus, aren’t you the one who told me that if I tried anything with her that you’d do things to my body that I’m pretty sure the CIA only teaches ten people?”
“I did, and I’m glad you listened,” she said, not making eye contact with me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel every word she is saying. “She would be good for you. I’m also proud of you for not jumping into something. This new you… I like him.”
Charlie gives me a playful nudge with her shoulder and I smile, still taking in the sight of Paige, who stands up, letting me take in the dress again in its entirety.
Fuck…
Standing up was definitely not a good idea.
Chapter Twenty-One
Paige
Who is this person? This person has my eyes. My nose. The small birthmark on my neck just under my ear.
As I look at this woman in the mirror, I’m confused. There’s no way it can be me. I’ve been sitting in this chair for hours, getting my makeup and hair done by a girl with a rainbow mohawk and gauged ears. I never went to prom, and I rarely go to a salon, so I figured that I’d look like a clown when she was done with me.
As I look at my reflection, I have to remind myself that this person is me.
I’m… I’m beautiful. Those are two words I’ve never said about myself in all of my thirty years. But right now? I can’t think of any other way to describe myself.
I’ve never thought of myself as ugly, and I’ve never really had problems with self-esteem, but worrying about my looks or making sure I was up on the latest makeup trends was always the furthest thing from my mind. I had too much else to worry about growing up—mainly making sure that my mother wasn’t drunk, high, or dead in a ditch somewhere.
“What do you think?” the stylist asks, giving my hair, which is styled into perfect waves, a final spray. I look closer at the makeup. I felt her applying it, but looking in the mirror right now, you can barely tell it’s there.
“I think you did an amazing job. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“It’s easy when you start with such a beautiful model. Knock ’em dead, hun,” she says as she walks away, giving me a small hug before heading over to the next person, who I’m sure has been peer pressured by Kelly or Boomer to model today.
Or maybe I’m the only one they had to convince. Because who wouldn’t want to put on a beautiful dress, get pampered, and raise money?
Me. That’s who. Because even after my fitting, and the rehearsal on Friday, Kelly still had to bribe me with pastries and wine to do this. I told her I’d be much better suited organizing the models backstage. That idea was shot down when she told me that she ran backstage. I then offered to help serve the champagne. Then she told me that the men did that, dressed in tuxedos.
And that is what Garrett would be doing.
I’ve been thinking about Garrett in a tux since she mentioned that, and as I slip on the dress that I’ll be modeling soon, the image takes over my mind once again. I bet he looks amazing, like a modern, real-life version of James Bond. I hope it’s a tuxedo with the suspenders. There’s something about the image of a man who takes off his jacket, only to reveal suspenders that I drool over.
I shake away the thought, and the urge to go see Garrett in action. The luncheon started about an hour ago and it’s taking all the power I have not to go sneak a peek of him.
I’m with the other models behind a curtain backstage who are getting primped and dressed to show off the dresses that Kelly designs and her store sells. It’s a great fundraiser. We model the dresses to the women who have been drinking their weight in champagne all morning, served by attractive men in tuxedos, which apparently, according to Kelly, only makes them want even more of the bubbly. With their inhibitions slightly skewed, they bid on the dresses with all profits going to a local cancer charity. From what Garrett said, each year the fundraiser not only raises thousands of dollars, but it also gives Kelly’s boutique an added boost of business.
I’d love it even more if I wasn’t worried about falling on my face in front of hundreds of women, most I’m sure I’ve had their children in school. I mean, come on, I teach kindergarten. I don’t wear high heels. Especially ones that are approaching four inches.
“Why do you look like you are about to walk in front of a firing squad?” Charlie asks. I must admit, having her back here helps. A little.
“Because I think I am. Why do I have to wear stilettos? Can’t I wear a sensible pair of flats? I’ve seen pictures of celebrities wearing old school Keds with ballgowns, after all.”
“Absolutely fucking not. You are going to make every woman out there jealous as hell that you look like a fucking model. You are also going to make Garrett’s tongue hang out of his mouth.”
I blush as she says the words. The thought might have popped into my head, Garrett getting to see me like this, but I quickly pushed it away. What’s the point in fantasizing about that? I know for a fact that Garrett doesn’t see me in that way. Plus, we are friends. He needs a friend, and I’m determined to be that person for him.
Even if I’m dying a small death right now not getting to see him in a tuxedo.
“I’m… that’s not the point of today. I’m here for Kelly. And Boomer. I just wish I could do it in shoes a few stories closer to the ground.” I turn away from Charlie, pretending to check my lipstick in a nearby mirror.
“Fine. If that’s how you want it. I’m guessing that if you don’t care if Garrett sees you, then you have no desire to take a peek into the audience and maybe see him in his tuxedo?”
The evil woman begins walking to the curtain, and like she knows I’m powerless, she doesn’t even look back to see if I’m following her.
“You blame Mark for Cullen’s behavior, but I’m pretty sure he gets some of it from you,” I state, catching up with her before we exit backstage.
“I’m surprised it took you this long to figure it out,” she says, slipping through the two pieces of black fabric acting as walls to our dressing room. “It’s just really easy to blame it on Twilight.”
“Twilight?”
“That was his call name in the SEALs.”
“Oh my, is that why Cullen…?”
The realization dies on my tongue as I take in the scene before us. And like the universe wanted to torture me, Garrett is serving a table of women right in front of us.
I’ve seen him in a suit. I’ve seen him casual during our volunteer outings. Once, I saw him in scrubs when I had to drop something off at his office. Each time I didn’t think he could get any more attractive.
I was wrong. I was so very, very wrong.
Garrett Dixon wearing a tuxedo, without a doubt, is the sexiest man I will ever see in my life.
“Holy shit,” Charlie says. “I might be married to one of the Dixon boys, so I might be a little biased, but damn, they do have some good genes.”
She’s absolutely right. It’s like his tuxedo was made for him. The jacket is tailored perfectly for his broad shoulders. The pants leave nothing to the imagination while not being overly tight.
And I’m not the only one who is taking notice.
Garrett is chatting with the table he is serving, his tray empty after having given all the glasses of champagne out. I know he has to be nice to them, that’s his role today as one of the waiters, so it’s completely ridiculous that a pang of jealousy hits me when I see him give a kiss on the cheek to a woman at the table. It’s even more ludicrous that my face turns hot when a woman twice his age reaches around and pinches his ass.
“Yup. Just friends. Because friends always want to claw an old lady’s eyes out because of roaming hands,” Charlie says, grabbing my elbow. “Let’s go, killer. I have a feeling you’re about to throw a shoe.”
Charlie starts to guide me away, but I can’t help it. I take one more look over my shoulder.
I wish I hadn’t. A gorgeous woman with sleek black hair
is putting her arm through his and is giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek.
“Who is that?” I ask.
Charlie stops, looks, then lets out a sound that can only be described as annoyance.
“That would be Annika. The almost ex. Come on. We have to go. And you aren’t going to want to see anything involving her.”
She’s right. I don’t. But I do.
I’m so screwed.
Garrett
I need a shower.
I feel… violated. Dirty. Used.
Who knew drunk socialites could make you feel like such a piece of meat?
The fashion show has started, which means my duties are done. Apparently, one year a woman was so drunk she offered up a million dollars for a dress. The husband accused Boomer and Kelly of getting her too drunk to make sound decisions. So now, booze stops when the wallets come out. That is fine with me. It gives me an open invitation to watch Paige once the show starts.
I didn’t hesitate to say yes when Boomer asked me if I could be one of the servers at the champagne lunch. However, my newfound friend neglected to tell me that I’d be pawed at like I’m a stripper in a Magic Mike show. Or that my soon-to-be ex-wife would be there.
Not that he would have known. But I should have. I was no stranger to the crowd I was serving, and this event screamed Annika Dixon.
When I first started making my rounds, I realized that I recognized most of the women or knew their husbands. I was so shocked when I felt the first pinch of my ass that I almost dropped my full tray of champagne. That shock went away when I turned around to find out that Evelyn Robinson, the wife of one of my most influential donors, was the one who gave my ass the squeeze.
I made sure to avoid her table for the rest of the afternoon. I was pretty sure if I went back she’d ask me to re-examine her hip.
It was easy to avoid her because she was sharing a table with Annika. When I approached the table, before the ass squeeze, Annika was not seated, or I would have stayed far away. Once she put her hand through my arm, I instantly knew who it was. I wanted to recoil at her touch, but I didn’t for appearance’s sake. Old habits die hard, I guess. Still putting on the appearance of being happy.
I don’t know what she told the other women about our marriage, and I’m sure someone realized I wasn’t wearing my ring. I honestly don’t care. All that mattered to me was not causing a scene at Boomer and Kelly’s event. I was barely able to hold back my gag when she kissed me on the cheek. At least I was able to quickly remove myself and get back to the business of serving champagne. Or so I thought.
“So, which one is catching your eye? Maybe I can figure out which one you’re replacing me with?”
Annika’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard as she stands next to me in the back, away from the view of any prying eyes.
“Is it so hard to believe that I’m actually not cheating on you?”
“Actually, it is. By my calculations, that means you haven’t had sex in more than six months. The Garrett I know can’t last that long. And as long as I can prove it was before you asked me for the separation, I get my money.”
“Who’s been keeping your bed warm, Annika? If memory serves me correctly, you were always ready for a roll in the hay. So tell me, whose paycheck are you after now?”
Even a pissing match with Annika can’t take my attention away from the moment Paige comes out from behind the curtain. She looks like virtue and sin wrapped in a gold and silver dress. Seeing her try the dress on the other day did not prepare me for the sight in front of me. In Kelly’s store she wasn’t wearing heels that I want to feel dig into my ass. Her hair wasn’t done in soft waves that I want to run my fingers through. Her lips weren’t painted like the ripest apple I’ve ever eaten.
There are no words to describe the beauty that is Paige Blackstone in this moment.
It’s not just how she looks. I knew Paige was nervous. She had never done anything like this. I know the heels freaked her out. I overheard her tell Kelly that the last time she wore heels, they were half the height and were worn to a funeral. I doubt anyone could tell. She is walking down the runway like she owns it. Her smile is lighting up the room brighter than the spotlight shining on her.
At that moment, I could picture us together, me in this tuxedo and her in that dress, attending any social function the state of Virginia had to offer. Annika used to go work the room, and I would let her. That’s not how it would be with Paige. She wouldn’t leave my side. I wouldn’t let her. I’d need to touch her. To make sure every man knew that she was mine.
“So that’s her, huh?” Annika says. “She’s pretty, I guess.”
It takes a Herculean effort to not tear into her right now, but I don’t. “Listen to me and listen good. You leave her out of this. We are not seeing each other. She has nothing to do with me leaving you. You leave your poison away from her. Or else.”
She turns and gives me a defying glare. “Or else what?”
“Or else I’ll try harder to prove you’ve been fucking around on me for months. Don’t test me, Annika. You won’t win.”
Realizing that I’m right and she likely doesn’t have a leg to stand on, she stomps away, leaving me alone in the back of the event room.
“What was that all about?” Mark asks, sliding next to me.
“I hope nothing,” I say as the lights come on as the fashion show ends.
The women scatter, or maybe stumble, to the auction tables and Mark and I head to the back to wait for Paige and Charlie.
“She’s not causing problems for you, is she?”
I shake my head. “No. The only reason she even bothered to try today is because we were in the same room. She doesn’t like to put a lot of effort into things. Unless it’s spending my money.”
Before Mark can reply, Charlie and Paige come from behind the curtain. And… fuck me. My jaw drops more now than it did when she was wearing the dress that made me want to bow at her feet.
She’s now in a simple flannel, leggings, and boots. Her hair is still in the soft waves and she’s still wearing the makeup she had on, including the lipstick that I’d love to see stained on different parts of me. It’s like the two sides of Paige have come together to make the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on.
She’s off-limits. She’s off-limits…
“So, what are you two up to?” Mark asks, oblivious to the fact that I haven’t blinked since my gaze landed on Paige. “Charlie and I are going to go get a bite without children. Want to come?”
No. I don’t want to come along, Mark. I want to take Paige somewhere where I can kiss the rest of her lipstick off.
Charlie steps up next to him, and I can tell immediately she realizes I’m not exactly on board with the idea my brother proposed.
“Or we could take these last few kid-free hours and find a place to get naked?”
Mark doesn’t even say goodbye. He just grabs Charlie’s hand and pulls her toward the exit. Charlie turns her head back to me and gives me a wink as I mouth the words “thank you” to my sister-in-law.
I really do love that woman.
“Do you want to go get a bite to eat?” I ask, putting my hand on her back to lead us out of the venue.
“As much as I would like lunch, I have a lot to do today. I didn’t think this would be an all-day affair.”
Her answer is a little short, which is very much not like Paige.
“Is everything OK?”
She nods. “Fine. It’s fine. I’m just tired is all.”
I might be shit in the marriage department, but even I know the word “fine” never means fine.
We are now standing at her car, and for the first time with this woman, I don’t know what to do or say. I can’t lay down a cheesy line. As I look down at her blue eyes, all I want to do is watch them lightly shut as I go in for a kiss that I know would change everything.
“You looked absolutely beautiful today.”
It’s the truth, and at that
moment I realized I didn’t get a chance to tell her that she took my breath away.
“Thanks. You didn’t look so bad yourself,” she says, even though she won’t look at me.
I take her chin in my fingers and tilt her eyes up to me. “What’s the matter?”
She tries to look away, but I won’t let her. “I saw you with… your ex today. And it… I didn’t like how…”
Holy shit. Is she feeling this too?
For one second, I forget everything. I forget that she’s my nephew’s teacher and that I’m more than ten years older than her. I forget that I’m technically still married and that she’s off-limits. I forget that my life is a fucking train wreck and that she’s the most genuine soul to walk this Earth.
In that one second, I start to lean down because her cherry-red lips are calling to me like a siren’s song. In that one second, I see her raise up just the slightest, ready to meet my lips with hers.
That second isn’t long enough. Too quickly I remember every reason why I can’t kiss her. So instead of taking her mouth like I want to, I place my lips on her forehead, kissing her sweet skin in hopes that she can feel everything that I’m feeling.
As I back away, I see her slowly open her eyes. My hands have slid down her arms and I take both of her hands in mine. It might not be a traditional first kiss, but this might be the most emotionally intimate moment I’ve ever shared with someone.
“The way you make me feel is like nothing I’ve ever experienced with any woman. Not Annika. Not Michelle. No one.”
I bring her hands up to my lips, placing a kiss on top of each one before I help her into her car.
“Because I can’t tell you enough, you looked absolutely stunning today. And I’m so proud of you. And thank you. For everything.”
And with that, I shut her door and watch her drive away.
Yup. I’m going to need a shower. Only now I think I’ll make it a cold one.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Paige