“Mmm.” She ran the tip of her tongue across her lip. “I look forward to exploring that idea further.”
“Just wait until all this wedding nonsense is over and we’re back to doing only one job at a time. We’ll have plenty of opportunity then.”
Some of the humor in her eyes dimmed. The hairs on the back of his neck raised the way they did when he was in meetings and knew he was missing something.
“Excellent plan,” she said, turning away before he could study her face further.
Even after she was gone, he sat at his desk, trying to decipher what it was he was missing about Allison.
And what he’d do if he didn’t uncover it.
…
She’d nearly caved.
Ever since the night at his house, she’d wanted to tell Darian. But how did you tell the man you were in love with that you were leaving him? Because in Darian King’s mind, that was exactly what she was doing.
“Damn, damn, damn,” she said.
A passing worker arched a brow at her, reminding her she had an office she could privately freak out in.
Or better yet…
Turning, she headed for Gillian’s office and shut the door behind her.
“Honey, as much as I’d like to hear more tales of illicit sex, I have a thousand things to do today,” Gillian said in greeting.
“I need to ask you a favor.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place. What can I do for you? Sub in for a date with your hunky man?”
She shook her head. “I need you to cover me on Wednesday morning.”
“Boring,” Gillian replied. “But easily doable. You two playing hookie?”
“Not everything is about Darian.”
The redhead frowned. “Then what are you doing?”
“I’ve got an interview.” It was the first time she’d said the words aloud, and the reality of them knocked some of the wind from her. She was taking her first concrete step away from Darian. And she knew he wouldn’t forgive her for it.
“Good for you,” Gillian congratulated her. “I didn’t even know you’d started sending out résumés.”
“For a while now,” she replied. “This was the first place I was excited about meeting.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s a non-profit in the education sector. The money doesn’t compare to here, but I’d be working for a great cause at a much smaller company. I’d have normal hours. I might be able to take the odd half day off here and there.”
“Sounds perfect for you.”
“Which is why I need Wednesday morning off.”
“Good thing you make the schedule then.”
“You know what I mean. I never thought I’d be interviewing while still at this job. I was hoping for some down time before I jumped back into work. At the very least a month off to recharge.”
“Maybe you can work that into your hiring agreement,” Gillian pointed out. “I say take the morning and see if this company is somewhere you’d really want to work. If it is, maybe it’s worth moving quickly to secure it.”
“You’ll cover me then?”
“Whatever you need. Are you going to tell Darian?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “Not yet at least. Not until there’s something concrete to tell him.”
“Maybe he’ll understand,” Gillian offered.
It was a nice thought, but she knew wishful thinking when she heard it. Darian cared for a very select few people, and she liked to think she was among their number even if he denied it. He wouldn’t take losing her lightly.
And if she waited too long to tell him, it would make everything worse.
“Well, good luck on Wednesday. They’d be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Gil.”
Task accomplished, she headed back to her office and dropped into her desk chair. Turning to her computer, she pulled up a new tab. In seconds she was staring at the website of the non-profit. She’d be working to improve access to education, something her family would be all for. And as a bonus it was a far cry from the corporate rat race she’d spent the last few years in. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for.
And it was terrifying.
Drawing in a deep breath, she admitted she wasn’t just afraid of telling Darian. She was afraid such a drastic jump could be a decision she regretted forever. The past four years might have been hectic, but she’d built a life here. She had job security, friends, a routine. Leaving seemed disloyal at best. Insane at worst. What if she was giving up the best job she’d ever have?
“Interview first,” she whispered to herself. There was no use borrowing trouble before she even knew if she’d be a good fit for this organization.
Because if she was, then her decision to leave would no longer be a hypothetical she could put off indefinitely.
She’d have to jump.
And lose Darian in the process.
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re sure I have to do this?”
“Only if you don’t want my sister wearing a paper bag on her wedding day,” Darian replied.
“That would be bad.”
“It wouldn’t be my preference, no.”
She sighed, staring up at the display window before her. Happy bridal mannequins smiled out at the world beyond the glass, each corseted into a poufy white dress Allison would see in her nightmares.
“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he whispered in her ear, his hands curving over her shoulders in a touch that sent a shiver down her spine. “We go in, try on the dress, and leave. Then I’ll treat you to the best steak in the city.”
“That part sounds appealing.”
“I’ll even throw in dessert.”
“Then back to your place?”
She felt him smile against her neck. “Then back to my place.”
Good things lie in my future, she thought. All she had to do was survive an hour of tulle and she was home free.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
Together they entered the bridal boutique. White satin and gauzy lace veils filled the store. Mannequins boasted the latest gowns while real brides shopped through the wide selection of dress choices.
Marching straight for the receptionist, Allison said, “We’ve got a fitting appointment for King.”
The receptionist smiled. “We’re all ready for you. You can head back to our fitting area. There’s a couch for your fiancé to wait on.”
“Thank you,” she said, not bothering to correct the woman. It wasn’t worth the trouble, she reasoned. It had nothing to do with the way her heart leaped at the words.
The fitting area was far more spacious than she’d expected. Private rooms were arranged around a raised dais set before three way mirrors. Couches lined the wall, which Darian was quick to take advantage of.
“The King dress,” he said to the seamstress who came out to assist them.
“Right this way,” the woman said, ushering her toward one stall.
She turned back to Darian to see him salute her with the glass of champagne an assistant had brought him.
He got to drink while she was cinched into a torture device masquerading as a dress.
Figures.
“I understand you are the stand-in for this fitting, correct?” the seamstress said, carrying an armful of dress into the changing room.
“Yes, the bride will be arriving next week. I’m just here to help with the original fitting. Our measurements are similar, but she’s taller.”
“We can put you in heels and finish the hem later,” she said. “For now, let’s get you in the dress.”
“Did she choose something with a dozen petticoats? Or, don’t tell me, it lights up, doesn’t it?”
“I think you’ll be pleased.”
Unlikely. She’d never been one to watch those wedding dress shows on TV or moon after the prefect bride in the magazines.
But when the seamstress unzipped Jenny’s dress she caught her bre
ath.
It was a strapless, with a sweetheart neckline she knew would show off cleavage. The bodice would be tight, but the full skirt burst from the waist, raining down in prefect folds. And best, the entire creation was covered with a delicate, minimalist lace overlay that elevated the dress into something magical.
“A lovely selection,” the seamstress said.
“Gorgeous,” she agreed, allowing the other woman to help her strip off her suit. Who would have thought wild-child Jenny had such sophisticated taste in clothes?
Reverently, she stepped into the white gown. She felt like a doll as the seamstress tugged the dress into place. With deft fingers, she did up the hook-and-eye closures down the back then declared her done.
Allison turned to view her reflection in the full-length mirror and sucked in a breath.
She’d never thought to wear a dress like this, even temporarily. For one thing, something this fine would be forever out of her budget. For another, this dress didn’t fit in her fantasy of a simple wedding.
No, this was a dress one wore to walk down the aisle, surrounded by high society at a beautiful vineyard setting. Jenny had chosen well.
Almost afraid to touch the delicate fabric, she smoothed a hand down the bodice.
“Beautiful,” the seamstress said.
“It really is,” she agreed.
While she stared at her reflection, enraptured, the seamstress went to work, noting where the gown needed to be taken in and any other alterations they’d need to make. Though it was slightly tight at the bust, Allison thought it already fit perfectly. Then again, the seamstress had Jenny’s measurements to compare to.
After all this wasn’t her dress. Or her wedding.
And for the first time since she’d moved to the city, she mourned the decisions she’d made that had led to that truth. Had she stayed home, her family would have seen to it that she’d met the perfect man. She’d probably be married and living in a house of her own by now.
Though she’d never been the sort of woman to daydream about a husband, she had to admit she rather liked the idea of having one person who would always be in her corner. One man she could love for the rest of her life.
Staring at her reflection, she knew exactly who she wanted that man to be.
What a hopeless wish.
“I think we’ve gotten all the measurements we can in here,” the seamstress said. “Let’s get you up on the dais outside and we’ll take a look at the hem. Here are your shoes.”
Obediently, Allison stepped into the towering heels that would make her Jenny’s height. Giving in to a ridiculous urge, she reached up to restyle her hair, leaving a few curls to gently frame her face while the rest were swept back.
“Would you like to put on the veil for the full effect?” the seamstress asked, holding the long, trailing piece of gossamer material.
“Sure,” she said. She’d been dreading playing dress-up all day, but now that she was here, the sight of herself in the mirror captivated her.
Bending down, she allowed the seamstress to clip the veil to the back of her head, over her hair clip. It floated around her like an ethereal cloud, trailing over the ground as she walked.
“Lovely. I think you are ready to go show your man.”
Her stomach summersaulted for a moment before she scolded herself. Darian was not the marrying type. Seeing her in this dress wouldn’t have the impact on him that it had on her.
Lifting her chin, she opened the door and glided forward.
Darian was saying something to the assistant at his side as Allison walked toward him. But she knew the minute he became aware of her presence.
Blue eyes grew wide as they raked her from head to toe. He rose to his feet as if pulled against his will.
The teasing words she’d expected were absent as he stared at her in the dress. Not knowing what to say, she stood quiet and waited.
They might have stood there forever had the seamstress not interrupted.
“Up you go,” she said, herding her toward the dais. “We’ve got work to do.”
With a last glance at Darian, she obediently stepped up on the small platform and faced her reflection in the three-sided mirror. Assistants raced around her with measuring tapes, but she didn’t pay them any attention.
Her eyes were on the man who still hadn’t said a word.
…
She looked like a bride.
He’d known she would, of course, that was why they were here. But he hadn’t been prepared for the sight of her in such a beautiful dress.
With the veil in her hair and the tips of the white shoes peeking out from under her skirt, she was ready to walk down the aisle.
Which she would one day. She’d told him that, hadn’t she? One day she’d have her small wedding and marry her simple, easygoing man.
She’d smile, just as she was now, while looking at someone who wasn’t him. Walk toward someone who wasn’t him, ready to spend her life with the man at the end of the aisle.
And worse, some other man would put his hands on her and seal their promise with a kiss.
A promise made to his Ali.
“You’re very quiet.”
The soft sound broke him out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d clenched his fists.
“Do I look ridiculous?” Her words were said with an edge of humor, but he could hear the uncertainty under them.
“No,” he said, moving forward. “You are absolutely perfect.”
Her eyes met his in the mirror. “Really?”
“Flawless.” He moved between her and the mirror.
She gazed down at him while the seamstresses fluttered around them. “Jenny is going to love this dress.”
Yes, his sister would no doubt be thrilled to wear it on her wedding day. But he had a sneaking suspicion that even when he saw her in it, he’d be picturing Allison.
“Does it fit well?” he asked, seeking to say something normal.
“I don’t think they’ll have much work to do, assuming we really are the same size.” She ran a hand over the lace. “I’ve got her in for a final fitting the day after she lands. Everything should be taken care of by then.”
“Excellent.” There was no reason for his mouth to be dry, when he’d just had a flute of champagne.
“Do you think Matt will like it?”
“Any man would be lucky to see his future wife walking toward him looking like this.”
Her swift inhale was so soft he nearly missed it.
“Any man?”
He glanced up, his gaze clashing with her chocolate one. Did she have to look at him that way? All he wanted to do was haul her into his arms and kiss her. Remind her she was his. For the time being, at least.
“Any man who would want to marry,” he amended.
Something shifted in her eyes, dampening the joy that had been there. The sight made him itch to take back the words, even though he wasn’t sure why they had caused the light to dim in her gaze.
Wasn’t he? his mind mocked.
“Of course,” she said, turning back to her reflection. “It really is lovely. I guess I should enjoy it while I can. It’ll probably be my only time in a gown like this one.”
“You don’t know that.”
A small smile curved her lips. “I want a simple wedding, remember? This is not a simple dress. Besides, I’d rather save up for a down payment on a house than blow my savings on a big white wedding.”
He doubted Jenny had even given that option a second thought. He knew he hadn’t. Watching Allison, he felt humbled by her simple dreams. It’d been a long time since he had to think about a savings account.
“You could always marry rich,” he quipped.
She laughed at the suggestion, the sound rolling over him. He loved to hear it.
“If I ever get married, Mr. King, you can be assured it will be for love, not a checkbook.”
He didn’t doubt it. Allison was a woman who never did things halfway. When she loved
, it would be forever. Nothing as common as money would get in her way.
Whereas he had never tried to cultivate such relationships. He thought back to the women who had preceded her. Women like Sasha who had been perfectly happy to accept his gifts as their due. It wasn’t ego that he knew any of them would have leaped at the chance to marry him. But they would have been at his side for his money, and before Ali, he wouldn’t have minded.
Those relationships were an easy equation to solve. A few trinkets or expensive dinners translated into emotionless sex whenever he needed it. An easy life filled with pleasure, without responsibility. They were there when he wanted and gone when he didn’t.
The woman in front of him was another creature entirely. He could just imagine her outrage should he offer such an arrangement to her. The thought brought a grin to his face. No, he never needed to worry about such mercenary reasons with Allison.
She was with him because she liked the man behind the empire.
“What?” she asked. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
He stepped away, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Got lost in my thoughts.”
“Okay.” She sounded less than convinced. Luckily, her next words were suitably benign. “Are you sure Jenny will be happy with this dress when she sees it? Maybe we should take pictures.”
“Good idea. Pose like a happy bride,” he said while fishing his phone from his pocket.
“How exactly?” she asked. “Should I throw my bouquet at you and give you a saccharine sweet smile?”
“You don’t have a bouquet, but I’ll take the sweet part.”
The look in her eyes said she’d easily throw something at him if she had any ammunition. Still, when he turned the camera on his phone toward her, she smiled obligingly.
He snapped a few more shots and sent them off to Jenny.
“All set,” he said.
“Us, too,” the seamstress added. “You can change out of the dress.”
Allison ran a hand over the dress one more time. “All right,” she said.
Before she stepped down, another worker appeared at his side.
“Mr. King,” she said. “We held the dress based on your sister’s credit card, but she asked us not to charge anything until you got here. We will need proof of purchase before we do any alternations.”
Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires) Page 16
