Of Blood and Smoke

Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

Della

“This is so amazing! If anyone had told me we’d be doing this six months ago, I would have laughed them right into New York Harbor,” Ashley exclaimed, dropping her dress bag over the back of my couch. “Bruh, how cool is this?”

“Stop watching so much Tik Tok.” Ashley’s vocabulary had expanded considerably since she worked in social media marketing and her slang was ridiculously overused.

Ashley giggled. “I have to understand the language to be effective.”

“I doubt that. All you have to do is optimize public messaging.”

“Yes,” she grinned, “I bring the rizz?—”

“No,” I interrupted her. “You’re thirty years old now, lady. Stop that.”

My friend laughed. “Fine, whatever. I just want to be good at my job. Where’s your dress?” She headed for my room, snatching her bag back up.

I followed her. “In the closet; I don’t know what I think of it.”

Josiah had bought me a dress and had it delivered when he knew full well I could’ve bought my own. It made him happy to buy me stuff though, so I’d let him have his moment. There was a party tonight celebrating his company’s latest release, Onychinus, at The Mezzanine. It was unusual for a pharmaceutical company to have a release party, but I’d been reassured it was more for publicity’s sake than anything else.

The Mezzanine was an ultra-luxurious hotel in downtown Manhattan and Ipomoea had rented the entire restaurant for the occasion. There would be an open bar and dinner provided. Afterward, Josiah was going to take me to what he called his “manor” in upstate New York.

He’d wanted to bring me to his home sooner, but I wouldn’t let him. Between work and my father, I hadn’t wanted to be that far away. An hour’s drive was too much if something went wrong with my dad’s condition but since Josiah had worked his magic with him, I felt better about leaving.

Dropping my dress bag across my bed, I unzipped it. “This is it, you gotta tell me what you think.” The wine-red dress was strapless and had a flowy skirt. I had a pair of low-heeled gold satin shoes that I’d wear with it, and a silky scarf of the same color to wear around my neck.

“That is gorgeous,” Ashley said breathlessly, running a finger along the material. “Up. You have to wear your hair up with this.” She tugged her own bag open. “Let’s get ready.”

I arranged my hair into an up-do, with what felt like a million bobby pins holding my hair in place. Josiah had offered to send a hair and makeup team, but I wanted to get ready on my own. No one knew my hair like me. It was sometimes the bane of my existence due to its thickness, but I liked to think I’d mastered it.

Ashley would’ve killed me if she’d known I’d turned down the offer of professionals, so I kept that to myself and let her stab me in the head with the last few pins.

“Jesus,” she muttered, pushing the back of my head forward. “Your man has all the money in the world, he could’ve hired someone to do this for us.”

Yep, I wasn’t gonna say a word. “It looks great, thank you.” I smiled at her in the mirror.

“You look so pretty, Della.” Ashley smiled back. “Now, help me. I can’t get this zipped up. I’m walking around in danger of my boobs falling out.”

I laughed and turned her by the shoulders, closing the last few inches of the back of her dress. “There you go.” Her black dress fitted snugly all the way to the bottom, where it flared out stylishly. Her abundant chest was tastefully enhanced by the bustier top. “You look stunning yourself.”

“You’re so creepy sometimes,” Ashley muttered. “Especially your eyes.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “What?”

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side, and then I followed her gaze. Josiah stood in the doorway, watching us. I had no idea how long he’d been there.

His heated scrutiny dragged up and down my body before he met my eyes. “It's time to go, beauties."

Ashley fake-swooned, the back of her hand to her forehead and her knees bent after he winked at her and walked away. He’d relaxed a bit and started leaving his glasses off around her, outside of work, and so far, she’d accepted the unusual tone as normal. I knew better than to ask.