by Anna Antonia
Frustration sharpened my tongue. “Cut the shit, Lucy. You’re shaking and sweating. All for a bit of shopping? I think not. Just tell the truth.”
“What do you want me to say?”
Lucy’s pleasing became a weapon she wielded deftly. I ignored the blow. Mind tunneling through the last fifteen minutes, I said, “I know what this is about.”
Her lips tightened, but she kept silent.
I got down on one knee before Lucy, taking both her hands in mine. “You’re afraid of Lanita because of what she represents. That you’re not good enough. That you’re ordinary and beneath the value of one of those over-priced dresses. It’s simply not true, Lucy. Those clothes are no different than the lip balm you’re wearing right now or the shoes on your feet.”
“Ones you make fun of every chance you get.”
“Not every chance. I haven’t made fun of them today, have I?” A grudging smile appeared and the heaviness in mine lightened. I kissed her hand, bold as ever. “Listen, let’s send them all away and just go back to the office.”
Lucy’s attention scattered about, bouncing from ceiling to floor and back before settling just where I needed.
On me.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I don’t…I don’t want to go back. I’ve enjoyed today.”
“The ice cream was delicious.”
There. She smiled again. If I could just keep her grinning, everything would turn out. Not the way it should, maybe, but the way I could live with. For today at least.
“I liked being out. With you.”
“Do tell.”
“There’s nothing much to tell. Just that I liked your kindness.”
“My kindness. How…uninspiring.”
Was I fishing for compliments? Never.
“Not in my world. It means something.”
“What? Kindness.”
Lucy freed one of her hands, ignoring the pressure I kept on it. I didn’t mind as much when she brushed her fingertips against my cheek. “It’s one of the things I value most in life. So thank you.”
Her sincerity couldn’t be torn down.
“Not so uninspiring then. All right, Lucy. Tell me what you’d like us to do.”
“Anything I want?”
“Within reason, but yes.” I didn’t realize I could talk to anyone this gently. Not without getting something in return.
“Help me pick out a dress. Make sure it fits right, you know. Then we’ll go out, have dinner, and just be two people, practicing kindness to one another.”
Anyone else and I’d know it was dirty talk. But Lucy meant it at face value.
She gave me her way, wanting to please, but also wanting to forget. Something, I didn’t know what, but my curiosity honed in on its insidious presence.
Two weeks ago, I would’ve made a crass comment. I would’ve pounced on her shock and forced the truth to avalanche, begging for it to level me.
But kindness…something I knew once before I became me…stayed my viperous tongue. Crushed it into submission.
I picked up her abandoned drink and pressed it into her small hand.
“To kindness, Lucy.”
“To kindness.”
She said it, hesitant and looking for me to guide her into new territory, before taking a sip. The water barely passed her lush lips before it passed mine. The faint outline of Lucy’s lip print remained on the glass and therefore, on me.
My truth came through in bits and drabbles. I didn’t want Lucy to go. I didn’t want to push her away, hurt her, make her regret ever knowing my name.
No longer. At least, not tonight.
Just a little more time with her…that’s all I need…then I’ll let her go. Walk away. Forget she ever existed.
Except Lucy chose her fate. I’d given her a way out and she closed the door. There was only one way tonight could end and then it’d all be over.
This wasn’t my fault.
“Shall we begin?”
Lucy drew her shoulders back, stubborn chin up, and armor back in place. Except this time, she didn’t close me out. She let me reside within, a fellow secret keeper.
“All right. Make me beautiful?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Lucy.”
“Why not?”
Vulnerable, eyes blacker than the starless night, Lucy look at me in shades of despair. These were always the moment I struck. Habit formed the words and then disintegrated with one gentle touch on her cheek.
This sweet girl, innocent and sincere, leaned closer, just enough to make me want more.
“Oh Lucy, don’t you understand yet? I can’t make you what you already are.”
Tears. The very thing I was familiar with, but this was different. They didn’t burn with the lash of recrimination. They blessed me.
Lucy reached up and placed her hand over mine. She whispered, “Thank you.”
This woman was a threat to me and the life I’d carved out. I never wanted to get attached to anyone, not after losing Mom, but crouched before her…
I fucking wanted more than what I’d accepted all these years. Now it was my turn to close the door on a different path.
Lucy’s lips beckoned. Plush, a dream to kiss and taste. I could do it right now. I wanted it. She wanted it.
In a flash, I stood up. But not before I pressed my lips against her cool forehead.
She was mine to torment, tease, and praise. For this moment, I would be merciful because tonight...tonight I’d tear right through Lucy and she’d never forgive seeing the real me.
Someone who drove everyone away and still didn’t understand why. Someone who was no better than an angry child.
“Killian?”
Goddamn the ache in her voice echoed the one in my heart. Stupid, useless heart. There was no reason to be this attached to her. She was the instrument of my humiliation and suffering. I’d learned long ago to never give anyone that kind of power.
We are who we are and that never changes. No matter how pretty we make the wrapper.
No turning back now…
“Lanita! We’re ready for you.”
26
LUCY
Lanita breezed back into the living room, all smiles and not giving any indication that she’d heard a single word Killian and I exchanged.
Or all that we hadn’t.
I was sure he was going to kiss me. I craved it, feeling I’d die if he didn’t show me that his need for me was as strong as mine for him. But he didn’t. Killian gave me the same affection one would give a child. Or a sister.
Not a lover.
Not that I want to be lovers…right? Right.
Wrong.
“Are you ready to have your mind blown, Lucy?”
Lanita cut through my thoughts. Reluctantly, I settled them on her and my upcoming ordeal versus the one person I wanted to circle back to.
Killian. Always Killian.
From the frying pan, into the fire, and back again. I slicked damp palms against my thighs as I stood up. It was ridiculous really. Like Killian pointed out, it was only a dress. No different than the shoes on my feet or the balm on my mouth.
In fact, this was only an adults’ version of dress-up. Wearing a designer dress didn’t mean I was going to wake up as another person. I was still me, just fancier. At least on the outside.
Besides, Killian understood my feelings well enough to know I wasn’t about to change for the sake of pretty threads. Not really.
“I’m eager to see what you’ve brought, Lanita.”
“Wonderful!”
Lanita instantly linked her arm in mine and led me down the hall. The urge to look back, to see Killian, took hold of my head. He remained where I left him, large body relaxed in its usual elegant lines and my drink still in his hand.
But his gaze pinned mine.
You’re not alone it seemed to tell me.
Or maybe I saw what I wanted to see. Either way, I took comfort. I needed outside stren
gth, especially when I walked into the dressing room Lanita’s team assembled.
This was not what I was used to. Nor was it something I wanted to get used to.
Again.
Dresses of all hues decorated the room like jewels. They set me on edge. It wasn’t always like that. Once I took hedonistic pleasure in wrapping myself in silk and satin, thinking that their very presence on my young body meant I was a grownup.
How incredibly stupid of me.
“What’s your favorite color, Lucy?”
“I don’t have one.”
I spoke sharper than the question warranted. It wasn’t Killian’s or Lanita’s fault that the last time I played dress up, I got a gun shoved into my mouth just two hours later.
“Well, how about red?”
“Ah, that’s not me.” Definitely not. I associated the color with my mom and just no.
Lanita moved onto the next hue, seemingly oblivious to my aversion to yet another reminder of my shameful past.
“Aquamarine.”
“That would be fine.”
Lanita shook her head. “Emerald green.”
“Very pretty.”
“Coral.”
“Ah…”
“Amethyst.”
I perked and Lanita pounced. She held the gown up in the air. “Double-silk organza, full underskirt, black embroidery on the bodice, off the shoulder, sleeves to the wrist. Modest, classic—”
“Beautiful.” I reached out and felt the skirt. Soft yet structured. One initial glance at the room and I knew Lanita Taylor was immensely talented, but I didn’t think I’d get attached to anything she showed. Not until this moment.
“What do you think of when you look at it?”
My answer wasn’t long in coming. “The ballet.”
A toothy grin spread across her lips. “Lucy, this must be fate because that’s exactly what inspired this one. Midnight ballet. I went to a show a couple of months ago and this one ballerina just floored me. Dark, moody, full of mystery and pain…I sketched this in the car and had it finished two days later. I call it ‘Rebecca’.”
“It’s so beautiful.”
“The ones that know suffering always are.”
Inwardly, I startled before dismissing my reaction. She didn’t see anything she wasn’t supposed to see. I was putting too much into it. Lanita was making small talk. Nothing more.
“Do you name all your dresses?”
“Publicly? No. Privately? Only the ones that inspire me which means yes.” Lanita smiled, shifting us back on track. “Now what I love about this particular gown is the corset detailing. Strings to pull things in when needed and to let things out after a fantastic meal. Here, why don’t you go behind that little screen there and slip this on? Call me when you need lacing.”
I took the dress, careful to keep it from dragging. Lanita and her assistants kept their conversation to a soothing murmur—for which my ears were grateful. I would’ve hated how overly loud getting undressed would’ve been otherwise.
So far, so good.
Quickly, I took everything essential off and plunged into the gown. No use in letting my rising discomfort get the best of me. I called for Lanita in thirty seconds flat.
She joined me, all smiles and grace. Her gaze sparkled as it swept me from head to toe. “This right here is the perfect choice for you, Lucy. Hands down.”
Her praise made the tips of my ears grow hot. From pleasure and embarrassment. I didn’t like being the center of attention, even in the privacy of this room. But it did feel nice to get…approval? That was different. Great even.
“Thank you.”
Lanita stood behind me. “I just need to lace you and then you’ll tell me how it fits. Deal?”
“Ah, sure.”
I stood there, twitching from rising discomfort and wondering what I’d say next to sound normal when Lanita asked, “Which part of the south are you from?”
I was surprised considering I’d stamped out every trace of a Dixie accent. Or so I thought.
“How did you know?”
Lanita finished with my laces and patted my upper back. “I’m a transplant too.”
How unexpected. “Virginia.” A part of me recoiled in the telling, remembering how much I was made fun of and insulted. Redneck and inbred hillbilly were the top two. Lanita’s smile grew wider, but not with malice.
“Oh, I love Virginia. It’s so green. I’m from South Carolina.”
“Really?” I relaxed into my memories. “I went to Myrtle Beach once.”
My mom and dad were still happy then. They each held my hand, swinging me back and forth as my giggles split the air.
Wow. I hadn’t thought of that summer in a long time. Pain muddied the waters and I slammed the door on my feelings.
Change the channel. That was almost twenty years ago. A lifetime. It has nothing to do with now. Don’t let it hurt.
“I lived about an hour away from there.” She adjusted the sleeves and neckline until they framed my shoulders perfectly. “I moved up north as a teen. Brutal time to switch geography, but in the end, it was all worth it.”
“Yes, you have your own business.”
“I do. Thanks in large part to a dear friend. Now I’ve been able to open up a store in New York as well.” Lanita smoothed the fabric at my waist. “Do you know why I love fashion, Lucy?”
I shook my head.
Lanita fussed at my sleeve. “Because it’s magic. Every outfit is a chance to become someone new. Power suits, summer dresses, wedding gowns…”
Was it my imagination or did Lanita give me a pointed look at that word? Almost against my will, Killian’s likeness became the wedding topper on a towering white cake.
I swung my attention from the impossible back onto Lanita as she continued.
“Every day you get a chance to be someone new. That’s why I love my job and that’s why this dress is perfect on you, Lucy. Ready for shoes, accessories, hair, and makeup?”
Say what?
Lanita read the surprise on my face correctly. “Don’t worry. We’ll be done faster than you expect. No more than an hour-and-a-half. Tops.” She sat me down at a chair and table. Two of her assistants took over. I barely had time to pay attention when a third brought an array of shoes for me to try on.
Strange considering they didn’t have me check the fit of how they walked. Guess they assumed I’d be willing to sacrifice my feet on the altar of beauty. Nope. I vetoed anything too high, too strappy, and too tight. Finally, I settled on a pair of velvet pumps, interrupting the woman curling my hair in order to walk in them.
They’d do.
After that, I pretended to be like a doll. I felt more than saw my hair getting pinned on the side, leaving the rest to cascade down. I obeyed every command to hold still, close my eyes, open my mouth, look up, look down, and even held back a sneeze or two when powder got in my nose.
“Done!”
I was about to exclaim “Finally!” when Lanita’s cheery voice chided, “Now, now, Killian. You’re supposed to wait until our belle came to you.”
“I didn’t want to wait anymore. It’s already pushing two hours as it is.”
Killian sauntered over. Each step towards us filled me with longing and fear. This beautiful angel broke me down, stealing my breath as I awaited his judgment. One word of criticism and I’d shatter.
Suddenly, I missed my old clothes. Better yet—being at the shop with my braid hanging down my back and worn sneakers on my feet.
I was exactly what I presented. An ordinary, hardworking girl. Beneath undue notice or attention. I blended in and that was exactly how I liked it.
But then Killian King came along and now I was anything but ordinary.
He stopped, devilish smile and eyes bluer than blue. “Exquisite.”
I opened my mouth, trying to find something clever to say for the benefit of our interested audience.
“She really is beautiful, isn’t she?” Lanita filled in with a fr
iendly grin.
Killian moved to stand behind me, hands on my shoulders. They caressed gently. “Lucy’s always been beautiful. Now everyone else will know and feel it too.” He leaned down and whispered, “Look.”
I’d avoided the mirror just in case I didn’t like what I saw. Now I couldn’t look away.
Blinking in growing wonder, I tilted my head one direction and then the other. The woman staring back at me looked like a lovelier version of the same face I’d seen for years. Maybe a distant, wealthier version.
Better.
This woman didn’t have a past.
This woman didn’t balance on a blade of truth.
This woman looked like she fit next to Killian King.
Pump your brakes, Lucy. No. Slam them.
Killian wanted to play. I indulged him. But thinking that any of this was going to last past dinner? Thinking that this was really the start of something more, something past work? Something to carry us both through to the end of time?
Está loca.
I was crazy.
Yes, but it’s only dinner. Nothing else.
True.
It was only dinner with Mr. King’s grandson. My charge. My responsibility. We’d talk, eat, and then go home.
Separately.
Right? Right.
“You do the brand justice, Lucy. Especially the Paulina Pink. One more thing…or two.”
Killian tucked my hair behind my ears. His fingers were gentle as they carefully clipped earrings onto my lobes. The teardrop diamonds sparkled like mad, infecting me with a desire for this to all be real.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
His rakish grin made my tummy leap.
“I never have to do anything, Lucy.” He caressed my neck. “Now hold still.”
The heavy weight of stones encircled my neck. My fingertips fluttered over the exquisite diamonds. “I couldn’t.”
“Relax, Lucy. I’m not giving them to you. You’re just borrowing them. Feel better?”
His warm hands took the sting out of his snap. He stroked my shoulders, looking as if he’d never seen anyone quite like me. At least, I hoped that was it.
Killian seemed to reach into my mind and pluck my thoughts clean.
“Do you finally see what I’ve seen from the first moment I saw you?” he murmured, so soft I had to strain to hear.
