by S. H. Kolee
"Sherry highly recommended Ferragamo. Do you like that designer?"
"Sure, when I see it on the runways on television. Isn't it really expensive?"
The corners of Jackson's lips turned down. "Remember, no looking at price tags. Just choose what you like and try it on. Otherwise, I'll do the choosing."
I sighed at Jackson's autocratic manner but didn't comment. Most girls would be flattered that their boyfriend wanted to spare no expense when shopping, but most girls didn't have the world thinking they were money-grubbing opportunists.
I let Jackson guide me into the store and we were instantly transported from the loud crowd of Fifth Avenue into a hushed mecca of fashion. There were a few customers milling around but I noticed the salespeople outnumbered them.
A tall saleswoman with thick blonde hair slicked back into a chignon, dressed in shades of grey and dripping with silver jewelry, sauntered over to us and I couldn't help but notice her gaze sweep over my jeans and white blouse that billowed loosely around my waist. I had thought I looked casually chic when I left the apartment but next to this beautiful Amazon woman, I felt inadequate. At least her gaze was kind, if a little bemused.
"Hello. Can I help you?"
It was almost comical the way her expression changed as her gaze drifted to Jackson. Her eyes widened and her lips slightly parted in recognition. To her credit, she recovered quickly and shifted her gaze back to me, as if she was afraid to be caught gawking at Jackson. I couldn't help but notice her eyes narrow as she studied me, and I saw a flare of recognition in her eyes.
"I'm looking for an evening dress for a party."
"Of course," she replied, and I was impressed by her even tone. "How formal of a dress are you looking for?"
I bit my lip, glancing up at Jackson. I wasn't sure how formal a launch party for a lounge would be, especially one that was bound to be celebrity-studded. Jackson answered for me when he saw me hesitate.
"Pretty formal." Jackson glanced down at me, his gaze softening. "Do you want to just look around first?"
I nodded, smiling pleasantly at the saleswoman. "I'll let you know if I need anything."
She nodded and faded into the background, as proficient salespeople do in high-end stores. Jackson and I wandered over to the women's section and I was amused by how sparse the offerings were. I was used to racks of clothes filled with different sizes and styles but at Ferragamo, each pedestal showed off one piece of clothing.
I immediately gravitated towards a black dress that was much more risqué than anything I had ever worn. It was black and sleeveless with a plunging neckline that was only a few inches above the waistline. A black belt cinched the middle, the rest of the dress draping down and hitting above the knee.
"Do you like it?"
I turned to Jackson, a half-smile on my face. "Well, it's certainly not like anything I've ever worn before."
"Try it on," he urged. "Why don't you grab a few dresses and put on a fashion show for me. It's been a while since I've been able to ogle you while you try on clothes."
I couldn't help laughing at Jackson's lascivious expression, and I was happy to oblige. The only problem was that all the dresses hanging in the store were size zeroes. I turned to look for the blonde salesperson and she was instantly at my side.
"Did you need something?"
I blinked, a little startled at her sudden appearance, but I just nodded towards the black dress. "I wanted to try that on, but it's not my size."
"We keep all the sizes in the back. Just tell me which dresses you want to try on and I'll be happy to get your size for you." Her eyes assessed me as they swept over me. "A four or six?"
"A six," I answered, although I was worried that these designer clothes were made for twigs and I wouldn't be able to fit into my normal size. I decided not to dwell on it. If I had to wear a bigger size, I would wear a bigger size. I was happy with my figure and Jackson didn't seem to have any complaints.
Jackson trailed behind us as I pointed out the dresses I wanted to try on. I noticed furtive glances in our direction from the other salespeople as well as the handful of customers milling in the store. I heard two Japanese women speaking rapidly to each other in their native language and I gulped when I not only heard "Jackson Reynard" in the mix of Japanese, but also "Emma Mills."
After I had chosen my dresses, the saleswoman, who had introduced herself as Corinne, ushered me into a dressing room that was as big as my living room. The fact that it was better furnished than my living room didn't pass my notice.
"Would you like anything to drink? A glass of champagne?"
I shook my head, wondering if you were always offered refreshments at expensive stores. I couldn't help but laugh at the image that popped into my head of myself drinking a glass of champagne while trying on jeans in the tiny cubicle of a dressing room at Old Navy.
"What's so funny?" Jackson asked as he stepped inside.
"Jackson! You can't come in here!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's a women's dressing room!" I didn't want to explain that I was horrified at the thought of Jackson watching me struggle into a too-small dress. There needed to be some mystique in our relationship.
"It's not like bathrooms where only one sex is allowed," Jackson said, looking amused.
"But...but, I need my privacy," I sputtered. "I don't want you watching me dress."
Jackson raised a quizzical eyebrow. "I'd say we're beyond modesty at this point. There's not an inch of your body I'm not intimately acquainted with."
"That's different."
Jackson sighed but he pointed to a curtain that was tucked away in a crevice in the wall. I hadn't noticed the curtain and saw that there was a curving rod that would give me complete privacy if pulled across, a sofa on the other side where Jackson could wait. I wondered how Jackson knew that curtain was even there. It would be easy to miss unless you were looking for it. My thoughts drifted to how many women Jackson had waited on while they tried on clothes for him, but I pushed those thoughts away. Jackson was with me now and that's all that mattered.
Corinne came back with the dresses I had chosen in my size. She pointed to a button next to the mirror after she had hung them on a rod. "Just press this if you need me." She discreetly left the dressing room and I wondered if she thought we were going to get hot and heavy in here. It was an intriguing thought, but I had more pressing matters to attend to.
"No peeking," I warned ominously as I pulled the curtain across the room. Jackson sighed dramatically but nodded his head.
I had chosen five dresses, including the black one I had seen first, but I decided to save that one for last. I was relieved when I slipped easily into the first dress I tried on and was able to zip up the back with some finagling. I studied myself in the mirror, a little scandalized that I looked almost naked. The dress was made out of white lace with a nude sheath underneath, giving the illusion that I was showing bare skin through the eyelets of the lace. The neckline plunged down low and wide so that the edges of my areolas were nearly showing. I tried in vain to pull the edges of the neckline up, but the dress fit me snugly and wouldn't budge. I pulled the curtain open a bit and peeked my head out at Jackson.
"I can't wear this dress in public! I look naked!"
Jackson shot up at my description, pulling the curtain aside, his eyes smoldering as he looked down at me. "Christ, I can see your tits." He hooked one finger over the edge of the neckline, pulling it down so that one of my nipples popped out. I felt goose bumps rising as he brushed the back of his finger that was still hooked over my neckline across my tight bud that had hardened beneath his perusal.
"Behave!" I said laughing, slapping his hand away. "I don't think Corinne would appreciate us humping like animals in here. Especially in this dress. They probably have a 'you stain it, you buy it' policy here."
Jackson raised his hands in innocence. "I was just helping you out. You wouldn't want to wear a dress where your nipples popped out for ever
yone to see." His gaze darkened. "Maybe you should get that dress to wear in private. For my enjoyment."
"That means no to this dress," I said lightly, stepping back and closing the curtain. I had looked at the price tag before trying it on, and there was no way I was letting Jackson spend $3,000 on a dress that would never see the light of the day.
I liked the next three dresses I tried on, Jackson weighing in his enthusiastic approval as well, but the minute I slipped on the black dress, I knew it was the one. It fit me like a second skin, the soft black fabric clinging to my hips, the belt emphasizing my narrow waist. But what really made the dress was the neckline. The smooth expanse of my skin between my breasts and halfway down my stomach was provocatively bare, the deep but narrow vee making my neck look even longer and my collarbone more pronounced. I was wearing my diamond pendant and it glittered against my chest, a simple accessory for a deceptively simple yet complex dress. I looked like a different woman in this dress. Dangerous and sensual, a woman who had no problems showing off her sexuality.
I slid the curtain open, turning around in the dress for Jackson. "Is it too much?"
Jackson gazed at me from the sofa, his bland expression turning intense. "Yes, in every good way possible. Too beautiful. Too sexy. Too damned irresistible. You're lucky we're in public, otherwise I'd be peeling that dress off you right now."
I felt pleasure flooding through me at Jackson's open approval, but I frowned when I lifted the price tag hanging off the belt. I had been too excited to try on the dress to look at the price tag beforehand, but now I was dismayed at the price.
"What's wrong?"
"This dress is over $5,000! I mean, as much as I like this dress, how can they charge that much! Was it handmade by a group of monks in a monastery in the Netherlands? Even that wouldn't justify the price. It's highway robbery!"
Jackson grinned at my outraged expression. He walked over to me, kissing me lightly on the forehead. His gaze became tender as he touched the diamond pendant against my chest. "It's well worth the price if it makes you happy. Actually, it's well worth the price because it makes me happy."
"Are you sure?" I asked uncertainly. "Even though it's not my money, it doesn't feel right spending so much on one dress."
"You have no choice in the matter," Jackson said simply. "I know you like the dress so I'm going to buy it. The only thing worse than buying a $5,000 dress is buying a $5,000 dress and not wearing it."
I told myself I would wear this dress every chance I got to justify the expense. I had the ridiculous image of myself going grocery shopping in this dress.
Jackson pressed the button to summon Corinne and she appeared in a matter of seconds. I couldn't help wondering if she had been standing outside the door with her ear pressed up against it. She beamed when she saw me in the dress.
"You look amazing in that dress. It looks like it was made for you."
"We'll take it," Jackson said.
"How about shoes?"
Jackson turned to me at Corinne's question. "Do you have shoes to wear with the dress?"
I nodded vigorously, not wanting Jackson to spend even more money. I was still recovering from the $5,000 dress. Jackson gazed at me speculatively and then turned back to Corinne. "Can you bring in some shoes that you think would go with the dress?"
Corinne nodded eagerly and I saw the dollar signs of a fat commission floating above her head. "How about a clutch? And jewelry?"
"Is a clutch one of those little purses?" Corinne nodded enthusiastically at Jackson's question. "Bring a couple of those too. But no jewelry." Jackson glanced at the diamond pendant.
"Wait!" I sputtered, but Corinne was already gone to do Jackson's bidding. "I'm the one wearing this stuff. Shouldn't I be making the decisions? I don't need shoes or a clutch."
Jackson turned his gaze towards me, looking enigmatic. "Emma, why are you fighting me about spending money on you? It's just sitting around collecting dust."
"It just isn't me," I implored. "I like beautiful things, but I'm not used to spending so much money. It seems almost indecent."
Jackson came close, tipping my chin up to look me in the eyes. "Sweetheart, you need to get used to it. I'm going to spend the rest of my life spoiling you. One of the perks of being an actor is that they pay you an obscene amount of money, just for pretending to be someone else. I'm finally really enjoying spending it. Because it's on you."
It was hard to refuse Jackson's generosity so I decided to stop protesting. When Corinne came back with several pairs of shoes and clutches, I didn't look at the price tags, instead choosing which ones I wanted purely on aesthetic value. I was hesitant about the five-inch platform heels, even though I loved them.
"Do you think I'll break my neck in these?" I asked Jackson as I wobbled across the dressing room.
"Don't worry. If you fall, I'll be there to catch you."
Despite Jackson's reassurances, I settled on nude heels that were just shy of four inches with a bit of a platform. The color made me legs look longer than normal and a silver clutch completed the ensemble. I gulped when Corinne rang up the purchases and the total was well over $8,000, but Jackson just nonchalantly handed over his credit card.
Corinne handed me a business card as Jackson lifted the bag off the counter. "Here's my business card. Feel free to call me personally if you need anything else."
I smiled and nodded my thanks. Now that I had bitten the bullet and let Jackson buy my expensive outfit, I was giddy at the prospect of wearing it tonight. Craig reached for the bag when we stepped out of the store, turning to stow it in the trunk of the SUV.
"Now what?" I asked after we had climbed back into the vehicle. "I didn't think shopping would be over so quick. We have the rest of the day free."
"I can think of some things we can do to pass the time," Jackson said suggestively.
"You have a one track mind!"
Jackson didn't respond because his cell phone started ringing. He routinely turned it off when we were together because he said he didn't want to be constantly interrupted, but he had turned it back on at Ferragamo because he was anticipating a call from Marcie. I stilled when he answered the phone and I heard his greeting.
"Hi, Mom. What's up?"
I had met Jackson's mother a few times and we had gotten along well. His mother had an easy grace and was much more laid back than Jackson was, but I didn't know how she would react to us being back together.
Jackson ran his thumb over the back of my hand absentmindedly as he spoke.
"Yes, we are." Jackson paused, listening to his mother. "She's here with me now."
I tensed at Jackson's words but he just glanced at me and smiled. "Yes, I know, Mom." Jackson sounded a little exasperated and I was desperately curious as to what his mother was saying. "We'll try to make it out there soon, I promise. Okay, I'll tell her. I love you too. Bye, Mom."
I looked at Jackson expectantly as he disconnected the call. "Well?" I said impatiently when he didn't say anything. "What were you two talking about? Was it about me?"
Jackson nodded, looking a little rueful. "She asked me if we were back together, and when I told her yes, she instructed me not to mess it up again. Despite not knowing the details of our relationship five years ago, she's convinced I did something to drive you away." Jackson smirked. "So much for being on her son's side."
I bit my tongue, wanting to blurt out that he did drive me away by cheating with Claire, but technically that wasn't true. I had pushed him away before I found out about his unfaithfulness.
"What did you mean, 'we'll try to make it out there soon?'"
"She wants us to come visit. We'll have to make it out to Westchester one weekend. She wanted me to tell you that she's looking forward to seeing you again." Jackson smiled at me. "She also told me that my brother Ryan made her promise to let him know when we would be visiting so that he could come too."
I was pleased that Jackson's mother approved of the rekindling of our relationship. It was
one less thing I had to worry about. I had never met Jackson's father but I hoped he shared his wife's sentiment. I was also eager to meet Jackson's brother since he had never visited from Miami while we had been together before.
We went back to my apartment and ordered in Thai food. I had enjoyed shopping with Jackson, but I had been acutely aware of the stares in the store and even on the sidewalk and was happy to have some privacy. It was a relief that there had been no one trailing behind us, taking pictures. Maybe Marcie's solution was actually working.
She called later that night to discuss the joint interview she wanted Jackson and me to do. I asked if it was still necessary since the fervor had already died down, but she informed us that she had gotten wind of Candace's camp preparing a counter statement that would be released soon. Marcie advised that it was smart to strike while the iron was hot. The interview would be with Vanity Fair and Marcie promised that the questions would be prescreened and all elements controlled. Marcie seemed to know what she was doing so I agreed and she promised to call with the date of the interview.
Jackson and I watched The Way We Were for the millionth time, and it was a bit surreal to be cuddled next to Jackson again, watching Hubbell and Katie drive their relationship into a ditch.
"Second chances," Jackson whispered against my hair at the closing scene where they painfully parted. I nodded, understanding what he meant. I was grateful that we had been given another chance to become more than a memory of the way we were.
Chapter Twenty
I was feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement when we pulled up to Hydra, Marc Bradley's new lounge. I glanced at Jackson, who looked perfectly calm and collected. I couldn't get over how gorgeous he looked in his dark elegant suit that fit him like a glove. His grey shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and paired with his dark single-breasted jacket, Jackson looked effortlessly sophisticated and urbane. His eyes had lit with approval when he had seen me in my dress, commenting that it was going to be a long night because he was going to be constantly undressing me in his mind. I had flushed with pleasure at his words, but now I was flushed for a different reason. I could see a million flashes going off in a sea of cameras.
