by Sharan Daire
“It’s been forever since I flew on an airplane.” She beamed at me like a kid in a candy store. “It wasn’t anything like this.”
“I flew commercial airlines once after leaving the Marines, and I’d rather go down in a Sikorsky again than ever step foot on another fucking airliner.”
“Plus, no endless security lines,” Everett said.
“Or trying to cram into those tiny tin-can seats,” Derek added. “Even the extra legroom seats put my knees under my chin.”
“So what’s next?” She focused on Everett. “Once we land, I mean.”
He pulled up the itinerary on his phone, because of fucking course he had the entire trip planned down to the minute. “We’ll actually land in New Jersey, but it’s just a short drive to Manhattan.”
“Assuming the traffic isn’t a bitch,” I grumbled.
“It’s New York City,” Everett said dryly. “Of course traffic will be a bitch. Which is why I don’t have us getting to the hotel until five.”
“Where’d you end up getting rooms?” Kaleb asked.
Everett’s slow smile told me it was a good one. “The Four Seasons.”
Kaleb whistled. “How’d you manage that? I would have guessed they’d be booked months in advance.”
“They were.” Everett preened like a fucking peacock. “I know some people. We’ll dine there tonight and get to bed as early as possible, because unfortunately we do need to be up and out the door by six.”
“Fucking hell,” I growled. “You know she needs to sleep in.”
She patted my thigh. “I probably won’t sleep much anyway.”
That didn’t make me feel any better.
“We’re not on until eleven,” Everett continued. “But with traffic and how busy it’ll be in the area, we need to allow plenty of time. Paolo will meet us at the Mezzanine and introduce us to his designer friend who’s letting us slip into her show. We’ll have ten minutes in between walks to get you changed into the next gown.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “So the whole thing will be over in a little over thirty minutes. That seems crazy. So much work and it’s not even an hour.”
“A minute on stage in New York City is like a year anywhere else,” Everett replied. “Except Paris.”
“That’ll be next year,” Kaleb quipped.
Her head whipped around to me. “Really?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Everett shot a hard look at me. “It’s in the five-year plan.”
I flipped him off. “I was trying not to stress her out.”
Her head dropped back against the seat, and she stared up at the ceiling, eyes dazed. I unbuckled my seat belt and turned toward her, gently curling my arm around her shoulders to shift her head onto me. “See? That’s exactly why I didn’t want to say anything yet. Fucking idiot.”
“Paris.” Her head rolled toward me, her eyes shining like the fucking moon. “Really? You think someday your gowns will be displayed in a shop in Paris?”
I stroked my thumb down her cheek. “Yeah. I do. We’re going to be shown all over the fucking planet. Because I was lucky enough to have a fucking supermodel walk into my lodge when her piece-of-shit car broke down.”
24
Shelby
I couldn’t have felt more like a princess if Chris had put a tiara on my head and glass slippers on my feet.
The firsts were adding up at an alarming rate. A limousine, a private jet, another limousine—which just happened to be a Rolls Royce. I didn’t have a chance to be stressed out about the rows and rows of cars on either side of us as we made our way through Manhattan, because I was too busy looking up. Way up.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw the hotel. It was a skyscraper too, over fifty stories, and the grandest, most extravagant building I’d ever seen. Marble everywhere. Gorgeous artwork and furniture that made the lodge’s high-end furnishings look like a backwoods cabin.
I breathed a sigh of relief that we hadn’t tried to bring the kids on this trip. I’d have been a nervous wreck about the fingerprints and crumbs and smudges everywhere because this place was pristine. Fuck, I was afraid to touch anything, and I was a grown-ass adult.
I’d felt way too dressed up leaving Branson, but now, I was immensely glad to be in something other than my usual hoodie and leggings. Our suite included two large bedrooms with incredible views of the New York City skyline. All our luggage had already been delivered and unpacked.
Talk about service.
What I loved even more about the trip—and my guys’ consideration—was Carsen, Isa, and Sagarika were just next door. They had equally beautiful rooms and the same top-notch room service. Listening to them ooh and awe about the views made me a little teary eyed. This trip meant as much to them as it did to Chris or me for that matter.
I’d never asked him how much he was paying them for their services but having them travel with us, staying in the same exclusive hotel, I was confident he was paying them just as well as he was paying me and Paolo. Hopefully he’d locked them in with good contracts too because I’d be lost without them.
Carsen swept my hair up in an elegant, classic twist. Sagarika touched up my make-up, and Isa helped me slip into yet another Blakely original that I’d never seen. No wonder Chris hadn’t been sleeping much. I had no idea he’d been working on all these other gowns in addition to the three show pieces.
This dress was deceptively simple. A short black cocktail dress that every rich woman had in her wardrobe. The underskirt hugged my curves like Spandex but moved and stretched easily, so I didn’t feel like a stuffed sausage. The bodice looked like an elegant halter top, looping around my neck with a deep, low cut that somehow still managed to lift and support my breasts, though I was definitely worried about a wardrobe malfunction with my swollen breasts.
The back of the dress was nonexistent. I couldn’t have worn anything other than Chris’ handmade thong beneath it that matched the same deep cut of the dress.
Over top of the slim black sheath was another light, lacy transparent layer that floated around me like a soft puff of smoke. Long sleeves buttoned at my wrists, and the full skirt spun around my thighs as I moved.
Rather than the usual black or silver heels, Chris had paired the dress with glittering red stilettos. I was deathly afraid the sparkling jewels on the straps really were rubies.
He sat watching them dress me, sitting in a chair by the bedside, very much like our first intimate moment together. I gave a careful twirl in the heels, watching the filmy skirt flutter about my legs. “What do you think?”
When he didn’t answer immediately, I peeked over my shoulder at him. A muscle ticked in his cheek, a formidable chasm wrinkled his forehead, and his eyes smoldered as if I’d done a naked striptease for him.
I laughed softly. “That good, huh?”
He raised his voice. “D!”
The door immediately opened and Derek strode in, looking deliciously grim. Still dressed in all black, but he’d added a suit coat to elevate his look to billionaire’s bodyguard. In fact, he even carried a slim black case, which he presented to me with a flourish. “Your jewels, my lady.”
Chris pushed up from the chair and came closer to open the case.
I didn’t dare breathe as he flipped the lid open to reveal a stunning ruby collection that matched the shoes. Confirming my fear those jewels around my ankles were probably real. “Oh my god. I’m having a Pretty Woman moment.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Derek gave me a wink as Chris picked up a long sparkling waterfall of jewels and stepped behind me. “Though I promise I won’t snap it closed on your fingers.”
Rubies poured down the front of the dress, and matching teardrop earrings completed the look. There was also a ring with a huge stone surrounded by diamonds in the case, but with the four rings I already wore…
I bit my lip. “I’d rather wear your rings. If that’s okay.”
Derek snapped the case closed. “Whatever you want, s
ugar.”
With his hands on my shoulders, Chris turned me slightly to face a full-length mirror in the corner. “The real question is what do you think, Shel?”
Staring at my reflection in unfamiliar finery, I had a sudden flashback to being a young teenager, playing dress-up with Mom behind stage, while her director boyfriend snapped pictures of us.
We’d dressed in sequined costumes with cheap, flashy jewelry around our throats and feather boas around our shoulders. Mom had picked a Renaissance-style gown in heavy purple velvet. My dress was something from the Roaring Twenties. We’d danced and giggled on the stage, more like sisters than mother and daughter.
Looking back now, I recognized the creepy gleam in her boyfriend’s eyes as he snapped my picture. Mom’s laughter had died at the look on his face. That sweet moment of fun with the mother I loved so very much had been just an illusion as cheap and gaudy as the costume jewelry. She hadn’t been mad at her boyfriend for creeping on her teenaged daughter.
She’d been angry with me. I never went on another outing like that with her and her current flame. Only the parties with a crush of people, where she’d left me to my own devices. A lamb among rich, older men with their icky stares and too-familiar hands. No wonder I’d gravitated to Rob. I’d needed protection, even if I hadn’t known it. Mom certainly wouldn’t have come to my defense.
I looked so much like her.
I’d always been scared that she’d abandon me again, but now, older and so much wiser, I realized she’d abandoned me countless times. After that moment in the theater, she’d seen me as competition. Not her daughter.
I met Chris’ gaze in the mirror, letting him see the dark memories and old hurt that had once shadowed my life. No more. I saw my mother’s beauty in my face and figure, and I no longer feared it. Because I knew exactly who I was. What kind of mother I was. What kind of woman.
“Allie was right,” I whispered, smiling. “I look like a movie star. Maybe you’d better start learning how to write screenplays.”
Chris kissed my throat. “Your wish is my command.”
25
Shelby
Dinner was an absolute dream. At first, I was worried about sitting down to such a fancy table setting, but the guys immediately put me at ease. Maybe Kaleb really didn’t know which fork to use, but I had a feeling he clowned on purpose to cover up any faux pas I might make.
Chris, of course, knew when to use all the fancy silverware and took charge of ordering everyone’s food. Course after course came to our table, and every dish was a culinary experience. I tried everything, though I wasn’t a fan of the lamb.
My only regret was not being able to sample some of the wines. Though I probably would have peed if I saw how much the bottles cost.
“How about dessert?” Chris asked.
I groaned and patted my stomach. “If I eat any more, you won’t be able to zip me into the dresses tomorrow.” Kaleb pouted, making me laugh. “Okay, okay, go ahead and order something. I’ll take a bite, but I need to visit the lady’s room first.”
I started to stand, and immediately all four men leaped to their feet. Derek took my hand, while Chris moved the chair aside for me.
“I believe the restrooms are this way,” Derek said, leading me toward the back of the restaurant.
I was surprised that he accompanied me, but I was grateful to have someone help me find the restroom so I wasn’t wandering around lost. The facilities were so nice that it seemed like a crime to use them. I checked my makeup in the mirror, surprised to see that my lipstick still looked as good as when I’d left the room.
I stepped back outside and found Derek leaning against the wall, a formidable mountain of muscle. I started toward him and someone fell into step with me. A man I didn’t know.
He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a burnt orange colored tie. His long blond hair was tied back from his face with a matching orange scrunchie. Even his fingernails were painted the same orange. “Are you here for Fashion Week?”
“Yes,” I replied.
Derek pushed away from the wall and reached me in two gigantic steps. For such a large man, he moved quickly and lightly, sliding in between me and this stranger, using his body to shield me.
“Excuse me,” the man said with a huff. “I only wanted to give her my card. Honey, if you’re looking for work—”
“Fuck off,” Derek growled, knocking the man’s hand aside.
“Don’t you know who I am? I could make this girl’s dreams come true.”
I curled my arm around Derek’s big biceps. “My dreams already came true.”
We headed to our table, but the man continued to trail in our wake. “Who are you working for? I’m sure we can beat their rate.”
Chris saw us coming and started to stand. Then he saw the man behind us. His eyes narrowed to slits and he growled something low that I didn’t hear. But Ev and Kaleb immediately leaped to their feet, and the three of them moved toward me in perfect unison.
I didn’t want a physical altercation to spoil our trip, let alone cause any kind of bad blood in the fashion industry. Chris had to work with these people on some level. They’d be competing for buyers, spots in shows, advertising, even space in stores.
Turning toward the man, I raised my voice so Chris would hear. “I work for Christopher Blakely, and I guarantee that you cannot beat his rate.”
“Can I give you my card? Do you have an agent?”
Everett coolly held out a business card. “Mr. Blakely’s contact information is on the card.”
The man exchanged cards with Everett, though he didn’t bother to look at the man’s information. “And what is your name, miss?”
I hesitated, not sure how to answer. Chris was the mastermind behind the line. My name wasn’t important. I was only here because of him. Even more importantly, I didn’t want to use my old married name. That Shelby was long gone. I couldn’t be broke-down Shelby Kent with my four men surrounding me in this magnificent hotel in the greatest city in America, wearing a beautiful, exclusive dress and jewels that cost more than I could even fathom.
“I’m Shelby Anderson Harris Blakely.”
The man didn’t find it weird that my name was so long. He didn’t grasp the significance. “I’m Ve Treharne, and you’re absolutely exquisite. Have your agent call me if your circumstances change.” He bowed to me and nodded his head briefly at each of my men before leaving us in peace.
“Fucking hell,” Chris growled. “Your fucking bodyguard can’t even keep you from being harassed on the way to the restroom.”
“I would have broken the guy’s arm if he tried to touch her,” Derek replied.
“You can’t go breaking everyone’s arm because they want to talk to me. Besides, I couldn’t be rude to someone we have to work with at some point. Do you know who he was?”
Derek helped me back into my chair and everyone sat back down. A huge piece of chocolate cake sat before me. It looked incredible, a veritable mountain of different fudgy, creamy layers that normally would have made my mouth water. But the smell of chocolate and mocha made my stomach give a queasy pitch. I pushed the plate over to Kaleb and his eyes lit up as he dove right in.
“She’s right,” Everett said. “Treharne’s designs were featured in Vogue last month. He’s definitely someone we may need to work with someday.”
Chris grunted. “Over my dead body.”
“Paolo warned you about this,” Everett said.
That made my eyes flare with surprise. “About what?”
“Once other designers see you, they’ll want to hire you out from under us.”
Did they think I would even consider such a thing? Trying to keep a straight face, I replied, “Oh. I see. How interesting.”
Chris’ eyebrows scrunched down into a formidable glare. “If you want out of the contract, say the word. It’s done.”
“Hmmm.” I pretended to think a moment, playing with the elegant crystal glass before me. I wante
d to draw out the tension and tease him as long as possible, but from his mumbled curses, I couldn’t put him through a single moment’s doubt. “I guess we’d better get married as soon as possible so I’m not giving out a fake name to all these eager designers when I turn them down.”
His fingers locked around mine on the glass. “Give me a date.”
Angela’s due date was in April. I didn’t want to be too big, certainly not in the heat of summer. “May.”
“What day?”
“I’ve always liked the number twenty-one.”
“Done.”
Everett pulled out a little notebook and made a note. No doubt he already had a list of people to start calling as soon as we got home.
“This year, right?” Kaleb asked around a mouthful of cake.
The other three men groaned and growled in unison.
“I’d smack you if I was sitting beside you,” Derek retorted. “Do you really want to wait another year?”
“Just checking.” Kaleb winked at me, licking frosting off his delectable lips. “Anyone else want some cake?”
Heat pooled in my groin as I dragged my gaze away. Chris still gripped my fingers like I was dangling off a cliff and the only thing saving me from falling to my death was him. He leaned closer, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders so he could whisper in my ear.
“Cinderella needs her beauty sleep.”
As soon as I started to uncurl my fingers from the glass stem, he loosened his grip on my hand. I pulled my arm back and slipped my hand under the table to find his rock-hard thigh. Higher. To the equally impressive erection straining against the zipper of his pants.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
He let out a heavy breath, hot and warm against my ear. “We’ll see about that, babe.”
