After the brief interruption, Austin and I settle back into our routine. He fixes us each a cup of coffee while I get some bagels going, then we sit at the table and eat together. Again, it feels so natural, like I’ve been doing this with him my whole life.
“What’s on your agenda this afternoon?” he asks.
“I’m going out with Janey to get a mani pedi, then I’m going to get my hair and makeup done for the event tonight. You didn’t forget, did you?” Tonight is the night of the party for my work. Truthfully, I’m a little nervous about bringing him with me. Janey normally attends these things with me. This will be the first time I’ve brought a man and will be announcing him to everyone as my husband. Well, if you don’t count the wedding, but this is real life. My life. It isn’t set up by a production team, and will be the first time I’ve really introduced him to my world.
“Of course not.” He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “But I only need thirty minutes or so to get ready. So if you’re going to be gone all day, I’m going to grab lunch with my buddy, Mike. What time do we need to leave?”
“It starts at seven, so I’d say we need to leave about a quarter after six. My boss isn’t exactly a fan of the whole ‘fashionably late’ concept unless she’s the one who’s not on time, so it’s best to play it safe and be punctual.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be ready then.”
An hour later I’m showered, shaved, and ready to meet Janey. Walking to the door, I shout over my shoulder, “I’m heading out. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I open the door and am about to leave when he calls after me, “Hey, you forgot something.”
Looking down at myself, I take a mental inventory of my things. Keys, phone, purse, sunglasses. All accounted for. With my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, I turn around and ask, “What?”
He walks—no, he stalks—over to me, puts his hand around my waist, and pulls me close. “This,” he says against my lips, his warm breath fanning across my face. When his lips touch mine, I nearly melt. It may be the sweetest, gentlest, purest kiss I’ve ever experienced in my life. It’s not hurried or desperate or overly sexual. It’s as if he’s trying to communicate with actions what he can’t with words. He’s tender as he gently cups my face and pours affection into me. When he pulls away, my eyes are still closed, afraid to open them and break the moment.
“Have fun today,” he whispers.
Slowly opening my eyes, I stare into his chocolate orbs. There’s a hint of cockiness in his expression, knowing the effect he has on me. Upon closer inspection though, there’s something that catches me slightly off guard. An emotion I’ve never seen from a man before.
Adoration.
“Thanks,” I barely get out before looking at the ground and walking out of the door. Internally, I’m panicking.
This can’t happen.
I can’t let it.
He doesn’t need to look at me that way.
He can’t.
And he wouldn’t if he knew the truth.
He would be repulsed—disgusted—and would hate me.
But, God, I wonder what it would be like to keep my secret. To let whatever is going on between us happen. It would be so easy to fall for him, that’s obvious. It’s been harder to resist his charming ways and keep him at a distance than it would be to cave. The smallest part of me—the evil, deceitful part that’s in my DNA—wonders if I should be selfish and do this for me. I could make him happy, as long as he never finds out.
“SO, I TOOK him back to my place where we could . . . you know.” Janey goes on telling me about her date as we get our toes done. I love her to death and she’s my best friend, but she has no shame. She’d talk about a blow job she’d given in the middle of Time Square and wouldn’t be embarrassed in the least. I, on the other hand, think certain things should be kept private. Even so, it doesn’t stop me from laughing at all her crazy stories. She certainly has a flair about her.
“Yes, Janey, I know.”
“As soon as we walked through my apartment, all I could think about was licking his abs. I mean you should see this guy, Jill, he’s delicious.” She clutches her hand to her chest and literally swoons. “Eventually, one thing leads to another and we’re going at it on the couch. Everything is fine and we’re both really into it. Then, he wanted me to turn around and ride him backwards, so I did. His legs were spread wide and mine were in between his with my feet on the ground. But, oh my God . . .”
“That hot, huh?”
“No—I mean, yeah, it was hot—but oh my God it was a workout! Have you ever ridden someone like that for a prolonged period of time? It felt like I did a hundred squats! My legs were on fucking fire and all I could think was dear God I hope he’s almost finished.”
Even though the girls doing our nails are giving each other sideways glances, I can’t help laughing until my cheeks hurt. Between her story and the look of exhaustion on her face, I lose it.
“It was awful! I don’t work out enough for this. Thank God he couldn’t see my face.”
“Why’s that?” I ask once I’ve gained a little composure.
“Because I felt like one of those bodybuilders. You know the ones in the gym whose faces are red, veins bulging out of their necks, and they’re screaming ‘One more! Just one more!’ That was my expression. I kept blowing air in and out like I was doing reps at the gym.”
I’m clutching my stomach with tears running down my face at this point. “I can’t breathe,” I wheeze out, trying to calm down enough to bring air into my lungs.
“Call me lazy, but I don’t want to put in that much effort to get my rocks off. You’d think he’d at least help a little. Maybe support my ass to take some of the weight off of my legs, but nope. He just sat there and let me do all the damn work.”
I wipe the remaining tears from under my eyes, finally catching my breath. “Let me guess, you won’t be seeing him again.”
“Eh, I don’t think so.” After a pause, she asks, “Enough about me, how are things with you and Austin?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I’m very aware of the camera crew sitting off to the side. I widen my eyes and give her a pointed look, hoping she catches on that we can’t talk about certain things in front of them. “We’re good actually. He’s really sweet and thoughtful. I don’t know, he makes me feel special,” I say with a shrug, downplaying the importance, but it is a big deal. At least to me. I haven’t felt like I meant anything to anyone my whole life.
“He had flowers delivered to the office on Monday before I got there with a note about friendship. A guy’s never made a gesture like that.” I sound infatuated, even to my own ears. I’m hoping she doesn’t call me out on it.
“Sounds like you’re falling for him.” No such luck. Glancing at her, her expression puzzles me. She’s actually scowling at me.
“I didn’t say that,” I say defensively. Her reaction to her assumption isn’t completely unfounded. She knows I can’t fall for this guy, not with my past.
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face,” she bites back, refusing to meet my gaze. What the hell is her problem? “Don’t get used to it. Sure, he’s all sweet now, but then he’ll be just like every other man. I’m sure your dad was a real charmer at first too.” If she had slapped me, I wouldn’t have been as stunned as I am now.
“Wow, that was real nice,” I say weakly. I will the tears back that sting behind my eyes. No matter how much time passes, my parents are still a sore subject. If I can avoid talking or thinking about them, I do. For her to stoop to that level is beyond hurtful.
She reaches over and puts her hand over mine. “I’m just looking out for you because I care. I’m your best friend and have had your back for eight years. That’s what we do for each other. I don’t want you setting up unrealistic expectations, you know?”
I get what she’s saying, but that doesn’t lessen the pain or disappointment her words inflict on me. “I know.” My lips form a shaky smile, and
I drop it.
After Janey and I part ways at the spa, I head on over to get my hair and makeup done. This is always the part I dread. I usually have no idea how I want to look. Ironic, I know, especially for someone who writes about fashion, but it’s easier to spot the trends and say what works and what doesn’t when it’s not on you.
“Ciao, bella!” my stylist greets me as soon as I walk into the salon, giving me a kiss on each cheek.
“Ciao, Marco. How are you?” I ask as he leads me to his work station, the cameras following close behind and finding a spot to set up. Marco is a short, Italian man with dark features, the kindest eyes, and the most adorable accent I’ve ever heard.
“Oh, you know. Beezy, beezy all day long.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “What all dis? You movie star?” he asks as he gestures toward the cameras.
With a sigh, I say, “Not exactly. They’re filming me for a reality TV show I’ll be on.”
“Ahhh! Brava! Bellissima movie star you gonna make!” His exuberance makes me laugh quietly while I shake my head. “So tell me, what we do for you tonight? Hmm?”
“I don’t know.” I let out a huff. “I’m going to a black-tie event for my work tonight, so I need to look nice.”
“What you dress look like?”
“Whimsical, ethereal, light, and flowy.” I’m in love with my dress. Out of the several I’ve had to wear to events, this is my favorite so far. Other than my wedding dress. The thought crosses my mind uninvited, causing me to pause. It startles me at first and is unsettling. Austin is starting to embed himself into my every thought. How am I going to walk away from him at the end of this when I think about him so often?
“We do bello soft curls, pull over here one shoulder?”
My nose scrunches up as I think about it. “Eh, no. The neckline and bodice are killer. I don’t want to hide it by draping my hair over it.”
“Okay, okay, no problem.” He tussles my hair around a little more. “How ‘bout we do nice, loose, elegant. No sleek and edgy. We do loose, messy bun. We make nice braid or twist you long bangs and pin everyting nice and loose. Elegant!” he exclaims with a wave of his hand.
“It’s simple. I like it,” I respond with a smile. It’s going to look perfect with the gown.
“Brava. Good. So . . . tell me . . . is new man? Hmm? Tell me, tell me.” He’s always so friendly and happy. It makes me want to tell him everything, but I know I can’t.
“Maybe,” I reply vaguely. I’m not exactly allowed to discuss the show to a bunch of people while it’s filming.
Suddenly, he stops working. “Maybe? Just Maybe? You no tell me more? Come on, bella. You tell me everyting!” He waves his arm with comb in hand for me to continue.
I glance at his reflection in the mirror, making me laugh. He’s wagging his finger at me when I don’t fess up to all the gritty details he’s hoping for. My hands go up in defense. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re still getting to know each other, but he’s really nice and sweet. It’s going well.”
He lets out a disappointed huff. “Hmph, okay. Si, si. You no want to tell Marco. Is okay.” I suppress a chuckle to keep from further antagonizing him.
It’s almost time for us to leave, but I haven’t come out of the bedroom yet. I take one final look in the mirror before walking out to meet Austin in the living room. The anticipation of seeing him in a tux makes me antsy and excited. Visions of our wedding dance through my head. He’s every suit designer’s fantasy with his broad shoulders and trim waist. When they design suits, they do it with his body in mind.
My dress is stunning. Since I was on vacation, the racks at work were pretty well picked over. Most people opt to wear the bigger named designers, and for that I’m grateful because they missed this masterpiece. I love finding the hidden gems—the underdogs of the fashion world—the designers that make exquisite items but no one has heard of. If anyone had paid more attention to the quality of the gown versus the tag on the inside, they would have seen the beauty in it. The lines, the way it flows, its ability to make you feel sexy and elegant—it’s all flawless. You put this exact dress on a celebrity at a red carpet event, and soon everyone will be wearing this designer.
The bodice is made of a very thin, nude mesh. From a slight distance, it gives the appearance I’m naked except for the delicate branches that crawl up the waist and thin out as they reach the bust. Flowers are sewn sporadically onto the branches, giving the gown depth and texture. A thin, black ribbon circles my waist with a few flowers trailing down below it. The dress transitions from the nude color on top to a grey at the bottom, the silk organza flowing out, giving it lots of volume and movement. The sexiness of the dress comes from the slit up the front of my right leg that goes up to almost my hip. I’ve paired it with a simple pair of strappy silver shoes.
Before I head out to see Austin, I decide to take a picture of myself in the full-length mirror and send it to Janey.
Me: What do you think?
Her reply comes a few moments later.
Janey: Who did your makeup? It’s not blended very well.
I look in the mirror again. I was a little worried about all the eye makeup. I’m more of a minimalist, preferring to go easy on the eyes and have a pop of color on the lips. It’s outside my comfort zone and now I’m afraid I look like a clown.
Me: The same people that always do it . . .
Janey: Maybe they were having a bad day or something. Blend out the corners of your eyeshadow better. You look like a drag queen.
A knock on the bedroom door stops my reply. Shit, I don’t have time for this.
“Jillian, you okay in there? It’s about time for us to go,” Austin says from outside the door.
“Uh, yeah.” Tentatively, I walk to the door and open it slowly. Despite new worries about my makeup, the corners of my mouth tilt up into a smile as my eyes take him in. His hair is styled, something I’ve noticed he hardly ever does. He’s gelled it to one side, giving him a more polished look. As I predicted, his tuxedo looks amazing, making me want to pounce on him like a dog in heat.
“Wow,” he says, breaking the silence. “That dress—you look incredible.”
“You haven’t even seen the best part,” I say with a grin.
“What’s that?” He takes a step back and trails his eyes up and down my body.
“This.” I pull my leg forward, exposing it through the slit. With the volume of the dress, the slit is hidden unless I’m walking or standing with one leg in front.
His focus stays glued to my leg for several seconds before I clear my throat to get his attention. “Are you sure we have to go?” he asks in a raw voice. His tone alone begins to heat my body. There’s been this sexual tension, an underlying current between us for a while, but I’ve done my best to squash and dismiss it. With the heated look he’s throwing my way, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to resist. I desperately want him.
Let your guard down. Trust him. He could be the one, my heart pleads.
What happens when he finds out, my mind reminds me.
I’m dying here. Please, let him touch you. You know he’ll make you feel good, my body begs.
I’m spinning and being pulled in different directions. Even though I know what I should do, I can’t seem to back away.
“Jillian?” he says barely above a whisper. I’m unable to speak; my brain is fried and unable to form words, so I raise my eyebrows in a wordless acknowledgment. “I’m gonna need you to stop me.”
My head tilts to the side slightly. “What ar—” I’m cut off as his lips crush against mine. One hand wraps around the back of my neck while the other one snakes behind my back, pulling me close to him. Austin’s lips ravage mine, taking from me everything he can and then some. And I give it.
Willingly.
My hands grip the lapels of his jacket tightly like a lifeline. Before my mind registers what I’m doing, I pull him back toward the bed. My body reacts to what it wants, even if my head is sc
reaming for me to stop. There’s a carnal need forming within me, and the Jaws of Life couldn’t peel me off of him now.
We’re frenzied, our tongues diving into the other’s mouth with such urgency that coming up for air isn’t a thought. Breathing is secondary to fulfilling the ache in my core. The backs of my knees hit the bed. I’m about to lay down when he pulls away, breaking the connection. The lust surrounding my brain doesn’t register what he says the first time. I stare up at him, dazed and disoriented. And a little disappointed he stopped us. Well, a lot frustrated too. His deep chuckle pulls me out of the fog and brings me to the present.
“What?” I ask with a little more attitude than necessary.
“That was the intercom. Our ride is waiting.”
Ride? Where are we . . .”Oh, shit! The party! We’re gonna be late!” I run as fast as I can in my current attire, pick up my clutch off the bed, grab Austin’s hand, and drag him to the elevator. I’m sure my makeup is a mess, but I’ll have to worry about that later.
Same goes for my feelings for Austin. I’ll stow it away and pretend like that just didn’t happen.
Yeah, easier said than done.
SITTING IN THE back of the limo, I pull out my compact from my clutch and attempt to fix my makeup. After I’ve corrected the smudged lipstick, reapplied, and tried to blend the corners of my eyeshadow, I throw it back in my bag and zip it with a huff.
“What’s wrong?” Austin asks, sensing my stressed state.
I let you maul me before an important work function. What’s worse is I encouraged you! I don’t say that though. Instead, I reply, “I just don’t want to be late, and my makeup doesn’t look right.”
“Look at me,” he demands gently. When I do, he continues, “There’s nothing wrong with your makeup. I mean, your lipstick was a little wrecked, but it’s good now.” One corner of his mouth pulls up in a cocky grin.
“Think that’s funny, do ya?” His only answer is to shrug, his smile growing wider. I nudge his shoulder, but it’s no use. He has every right to feel smug right now. I’m like a tornado spinning out of control, the destruction left in its wake is my life if I let this go any further. With each caress of his lips and swipe of his tongue, all rational thinking flies out the window. In that moment, I was lost in him with no hope of finding my way out. But I didn’t want to be found, and that’s perhaps the scariest part of the whole interaction.
Hopeless Vows Page 8
