by Helena Ray
Gillian looked at Robin as if she had just propositioned they make a human sacrifice. “Why on earth would you want to hide behind—” She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper, as if loathe to utter the term in the Church of Coco Chanel. “—ready-to-wear?”
“I can’t afford designer gowns! But I could manage a sensible sundress, maybe.”
“Honey, you have moved way beyond the world of sensible sundresses.”
“What do you mean?” Robin was slightly offended by Gillian’s accusation that there was something wrong with Robin’s fashion sense.
“I am correct in assuming that you’re fucking my brother and Al, right?”
Robin turned a shade of beet red as Gillian’s question echoed in the expanse of the department store. “Not so loud!”
“Oh, honey. This is Male Order. The word fuck is hardly going to offend anyone.” Gillian turned to the only other customers in sight, a woman and her tween daughter. She smiled sweetly in their direction and, in her thick Texas accent, hollered, “Fuck, these are beautiful!”
The mother gave Gillian a dirty look and hurried her daughter to the other end of the section. Robin was fairly sure that had to do with Gillian’s audacious personality and not the remark hurled in their direction.
“Okay, but do we have to bring up my sex life?”
“Honey.” Gillian gave Robin an indulgent smile. “You have dried cum on your neck.”
Robin’s hand shot up to her neck. Damn it! She knew she shouldn’t have let Alexander and Bryant hurry her out of the house like that. They had thrown off her entire morning beauty ritual.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, cutie.” Gillian took on a suddenly businesslike stance. “Now the real stuff. You’re affiliating with—” Gillian looked at Robin for approval and received it. “—one of the richest men under the age of thirty-five on the face of the planet.” She rested her hand on Robin’s shoulder. “There’s no way on the Lord’s green earth he’s going to let you be seen in anything but the finest money can buy. People will think he’s not taking care of his woman.”
What! Such attitudes incensed Robin. First, what made him think she was his woman? When she looked in her heart, she knew she belonged with Alexander and Bryant, but she hadn’t told them that! And second, she did not need a man taking care of her. She was an independent woman of the twenty-first century. Just then, the glimmer of a sequin on a stunning Dolce gown caught her attention. Maybe she should hear Gillian out.
“And that means what?”
“You know the Abrams family started Jacqueline’s, don’t you?”
Was there nothing the Abrams family couldn’t do? “No, I didn’t,” Robin said hesitantly.
“Al’s arranged for you to have anything in the store. He’s taking care of all of it.”
Robin thought her jaw must be only an inch from the floor.
“Shut your mouth, pretty little Miss Robin, this is just how things are done in Male Order.” Gillian captured Robin in another hug. “And you’re one of the chosen ones! Oh, I can’t wait until we’re sisters!”
Robin’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest at those words. Sisters? As in sisters-in-law after she married Bryant? Of course the thought had crossed her mind in daydreams, but hearing it said out loud made it seem so real. Chills danced up her spine. Married! Her mind took a quick turn, though. Could someone get married to two people?
Gillian must have picked up on Robin’s confusion. “Al and Bry’ll duke it out over who gets to legally marry you. Trust me, it’s so much fun to watch that fight,” Gillian said conspiratorially. “But make no mistake, if they’re taking you shopping, they mean to make you their wife.”
Robin’s swoon nearly knocked over a mannequin in a form-fitting Armani cocktail dress.
Gillian reached out to steady Robin. “Now, let’s go shopping!”
She started toward the dressing rooms at one end of the enormous hall of fashion. As she approached the room, another employee greeted them clad in a tight black blazer and black pencil skirt with hair tucked in a neat bun. A secret service-style wire curled from one of her ears, and she clutched a clipboard to her chest, appearing to be holding on to it for dear life.
“Mrs. Clare-Sumner! Always a pleasure. Are you here for that Gaultier you asked us to pull?” She was friendly, but her attitude smacked of the trademark aloofness associated with haute couture.
“Ooh, I had clear forgotten about that!” Gillian hopped from foot to foot like an eager child at the mention of the designer garment. “But I’m not worried about little old me today.” Gillian gestured to where Robin stood nervously beside her. “This is Robin Lawrence.”
Robin extended a hand to the woman, but she just stared at it and turned back to Gillian.
Gillian let out an exasperated sigh. “Robin Lawrence,” she said, stressing each syllable. “You know, the one who’s working at the Abrams mansion.”
“Oh!” The woman straightened, and her eyes widened in realization. Her hand shot to her earpiece, and she turned away from Robin and Gillian. “We have a code six Abrams in women’s formalwear. I repeat, a code six Abrams in women’s formalwear.”
She whipped around, a bright customer service smile plastered across her face.
“Ms. Lawrence, it’s so lovely to meet you. Would you like anything to drink? Champagne, perhaps?” Robin wondered what exactly it was about a “code six Abrams” that made their assistant’s attitude change. And how did they know who she was? She didn’t have time to be upset, though, as a flute of champagne was shoved in her hand by a nearly identical assistant before Robin could respond to their question.
“Right this way, Ms. Lawrence, Mrs. Clare-Sumner.” The assistant threw open a curtain and marched through, and Gillian gestured for them to follow. They arrived at a large room that looked more like something that would belong at New York Fashion Week than something in a department store. A long runway bisected the room with a full set of mirrors at one end and a curtain at the other. Velvet curtains demarcated a changing area in one corner. Gillian sat down on one of the modern, white leather chairs, and Robin followed suit.
The runway curtain fluttered open with a flourish, and Robin was struck dumb by the sight that awaited her. Three assistants pushed a rack of at least twenty of the most beautiful and elaborate dresses Robin had ever seen. They were followed by a short man with fashionably shaggy hair and a moustache. He was dressed in a tight-fitting striped waistcoat and matching pants, and he wore the same sort of richly made Oxfords Alexander always wore. She smiled at the thought of Alexander and dancing with him, making love with him, waking up between him and Bryant.
“Someone just got laid,” the man proclaimed with scandal in his voice. He stepped off the runway and exchanged cheek kisses with Gillian. “Is this her?” he asked Gillian as he turned toward Robin.
“Yes, indeed. Luc Saint-Croix, meet Robin Lawrence, the girl who’s managed to bag my brother and Al.”
Luc gasped and took Robin’s hand in both of his. “Girl, teach me all your ways. I wanna know how to bag two such juicy pieces of man meat!”
Gillian cringed at that description of her brother, and Robin shrugged in response.
“I don’t know,” Robin said shyly. “It just feels right. They’re both so different and—”
“Oh, girl, ain’t that the truth?” Luc said as he took a seat next to Robin. “I can’t wait to hear about how you handle that sex bomb Alexander. He’s a pistol and a half!”
Robin giggled at Luc’s description of Alexander and relaxed into the leather chair.
“Luc is Jacqueline’s resident stylist and designer of their in-house line,” Gillian clarified. “When Bry called me this morning and told me you needed a Cotillion dress, I just knew you had to meet with Luc.” Gillian reached across Robin and took Luc’s hand. “Plus, we’re besties, and I miss him so much when I’m in New York!”
“Oh, sweetie, I miss you, too. Thank the Lord you’re here in the sum
mer!” Luc rose to his feet and stepped back onto the runway. “But enough chitchat. Let’s get the beautiful Miss Robin in the gown she deserves.” Luc snapped his fingers, and one of his fashion automatons pulled a rack forward. Robin shivered in anticipation of the feel of the lush fabric on her skin. While she kept up with fashion, she had never donned a garment anywhere near as luxurious as those that Luc thumbed through.
Luc stopped his perusal of the dresses, squinted at Robin, and snapped his fingers again. “None of these are good enough for this cutie pie,” he scolded his assistant. “Next!” Another black-clad assistant brought another rack of garments for Luc to inspect. A long, deep red gown caught his eye, and he grabbed it from where it hung.
Crossing to the edge of the runway, Luc dangled the dress in front of Robin and Gillian.
Gillian grabbed Robin’s arm in excitement. “Oh, honey, you have to try that one.” She hopped from her seat and reached out to feel the silky fabric, but Luc swatted her away.
“Don’t you dare! This is only one of three Valentino made. I won’t have your grubby palms on something that our guest might wear.” Luc snapped his fingers again, and the assistant he earlier shunned grabbed the dress from his hand and spirited it away. “Next!”
The third rack met with more approval from Luc, and he pulled a purple Badgley Mischka, a one-shouldered Carolina Herrera, and a sleeveless black Chanel gown with gold accents that had Robin salivating. She couldn’t wait to try these gowns on, but had a guilty feeling gnawing in her stomach. Even though she knew Alexander could afford anything she wanted, she still felt uneasy accepting any one of these dresses that she knew, from her window-shopping trips to designer boutiques in Dallas, cost several thousand dollars each.
After Luc and Gillian had inspected the selections, one of the assistants led Robin to a large, mirrored room with a different dress hanging on each wall. She was instructed to try on each dress and, no matter her opinion, model it on the runway. Parading herself in front of others was never Robin’s favorite endeavor, and the idea made her a bit uncomfortable.
Her discomfort vanished as soon as she donned the red Valentino. The feel of the smooth fabric against her skin reminded her of the sweet caresses she had received just hours ago. She turned, and the sensation of the dress against her ass forced her to remember Bryant’s hand there and the reverence with which he brushed against her forbidden hole.
When Robin inspected herself in the mirror, her smiling lips were the same deep red of the dress, reflecting her admiration for the flush all this arousal gave her. She pulled up the hem of the too-long dress and proceeded to the runway. She strutted down the catwalk, newly confident from the adoration she had just received from Gillian and Luc.
They, however, were not impressed. They both tilted their heads back and forth as they examined Robin. Finally, Luc sighed and stepped onto the runway, placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder.
“It’s beautiful, and god knows you’re just as pretty as they come, but girl, this just isn’t it.”
“I agree,” Gillian said as she attempted to mount the runway but was once more halted by Luc. “You need something with even more wow to it.”
Slightly defeated, Robin walked back to the dressing room and moved on to the Badgley Mischka. That dress met with the same tepid reaction from her shopping companions, as did the Carolina Herrera and, much to Robin’s chagrin, the Chanel.
Returning to the runway in her denim skirt and plain T-shirt, Robin sat on the edge of the catwalk as Gillian and Luc conspired on how best to find the appropriate gown. Their expressions did nothing to bolster Robin’s spirits. Suddenly, Luc hopped to his feet and clapped his hands quickly.
“The Dior!” he exclaimed, and Robin’s heart did a backflip. It had always been her dream to wear a real couture gown from Dior, even if just for a few moments. “Well, well,” Luc said as he eyed Robin’s reaction. “It looks like little Miss Sex Bomb here likes Dior.” He leaned over and embraced her. “It’s a one-of-a-kind vintage gown, honey. You’re gonna just die, positively die.”
“Don’t do that! My brother’ll have my neck.” Gillian smirked as Luc groaned at her attempt at humor.
Luc ducked back through the entrance, and Robin and Gillian waited in nervous anticipation. They could not have imagined, though, the spectacle of a gown that Luc himself wheeled out. It was a champagne-colored, strapless, princess cut dress with a molded bodice and a skirt composed of blue-edged petals that made it look like the dress was emerging from mystical depths. Crystals covered the entire garment, glistening and accentuating every ripple of the fabric.
Whereas Robin had to be ushered into the dressing room for the first few dresses, she raced there this time, beating the assistants with the dress. When she wiggled herself into the gown and took the catwalk, she felt like Cinderella. Gillian and Luc audibly gasped as Robin slowly, deliberately made her way down the runway.
“Oh my god,” Luc whispered. “That thing was made for you.”
Tears welled up in Gillian’s eyes, and Robin’s eyes responded in kind. Gillian successfully sidestepped Luc and leapt onto the runway. Robin instinctively hugged Gillian, for the first time certain this person would be in her life for the long term. “Oh, Robin, baby, I’m so glad you’re gonna be in our family.”
Relief filled Robin’s chest. For the first time since she left her family home in Waxahachie eight years ago, Robin would have a family of her own choosing. She hugged Gillian tighter until Luc cleared his throat emphatically.
“Okay, you two. Time to get that dress off. Don’t want it getting too mussed before the workout I’m sure Bryant and Alexander are gonna give it at the Cotillion.”
Robin reluctantly returned to the dressing room and removed her gown. Against her better judgment, she stopped one of the assistants and asked how much the gown cost. Maybe she could pay for half of it and ease her uncertainty.
The assistant put her hand to her earpiece, turned away, and muttered in some sort of vogue language. She turned back to Robin and said without expression, “Twenty-six.” A high-pitched choking sound escaped from Robin’s chest. “Will there be anything else, Ms. Lawrence?” Robin shook her head, still speechless.
She changed back into her normal clothes, her body crying out for the feel of the decadent garment she had just worn. She loved the dress, but taking that much money from Alexander didn’t seem right.
She didn’t have much time to ponder her dilemma, though, as the sounds of a scuffle out by the runway filled the dressing room.
“No, you don’t!” Luc exclaimed just as a loud crash sounded.
“This is girl territory!” Gillian’s high-pitched whine traveled to Robin’s ears. “Well, and Luc territory! But not your ass!”
Then the curtain to the dressing area whipped open, revealing Bryant standing with his arms open. Robin rushed forward, and Bryant picked her up off the floor and spun her around a few times before setting her back on the ground. Apparently heedless of their audience, Bryant hugged Robin against his body and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. Robin’s body fired to life at the sudden action.
Bryant scooped Robin into his arms, and although public displays of affection usually unnerved her, Robin had no problem clinging to his chest and planting kisses on his muscular neck. He carried her out onto the runway, and the shrieking protests Robin had overheard grew louder.
“Bry, what in the Lord’s name do you think you’re doing here?” Gillian stood with her hands on her hips, glowering at her younger brother. “You know seeing your woman’s Cotillion dress is second only in bad juju to seeing her in her wedding dress! Now, out!”
Bryant only smiled at his sister and pulled Robin tighter against him.
“Now, Gilly, you know I don’t care one bit about your bad juju. I just care about getting the most beautiful girl in the world ready for tonight.” He leaned his face down to Robin’s and kissed her. She returned his kiss eagerly, the heat coursing through her veins overridi
ng any concerns she might have about propriety.
“Ahem.” Luc cleared his throat, causing Bryant and Robin to separate their lips, and Bryant placed Robin back on solid ground. Bryant wore a sheepish look, and Robin was certain her expression matched. Luc crossed to Robin and placed a light kiss on her cheek. “You ready for a little break from shopping, honey?”
Bryant reached an arm around her waist, convincing Robin that a break was most definitely in order.
“Yeah, I apparently have something to get ready for.” She felt a grin spread across her face as she thought about how pleasant surprises were in this town.
“Okay, gorgeous. Well, you found your dress, and we’ll send it on over to you as soon as the alterations are done.” Luc’s eyes darted to where Bryant’s hand kneaded Robin’s hip. “Or should we send that on over to the Abrams compound?”
“No, no, my apartment is fine.” Heat crept up Robin’s neck and face. She turned her face up to Bryant. “I don’t want to be too much of an inconvenience.”
Bryant leaned down and brushed his nose against her ear. “You keep doing what you did last night, and you’ll never be an inconvenience, darlin’.” Robin felt her blush intensify, as she was sure everyone could hear Bryant’s whisper.
Luc grabbed Robin’s upper arm in an affectionate gesture. “We’ll figure it all out, honey. You go with that decadent piece of—”
“Don’t you dare,” Gillian said with a look of admonition.
“Fine.” Luc sighed and released Robin. “I’ll see you again soon, cutie.”
Robin turned to say her good-byes as Bryant pulled her toward the exit. “It was really nice meeting you, Luc, and of course, you, Gillian!” She barely had time to finish her sentence before Bryant pulled her out onto the main floor of Jacqueline’s and placed another kiss on her lips.
