Chapter 23
BEN
Iam not enjoying this.
Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? How could I not?
Watching Maddy play dress-up might be the highlight of my entire year.
This is Maddy, after all. The girl who spent her teenage years in a rotating wardrobe of jeans, oversized hoodies, and sweats.
The girl who had to be bribed by her mom with Joel Plaskett concert tickets to wear a full-length gown to our high school prom.
And now here she is, reluctantly modeling dresses like she’s on Project Runway.
As for my part in this fashion show, the second tuxedo I tried on was the clear winner. I don’t want to sound arrogant, but if I were anyone else, I’d absolutely have sex with me.
Unfortunately for Maddy, Chanda is holding Annika’s wardrobe to a much higher standard.
The first dress was too fancy. The next?
Not fancy enough. Every gown Maddy modeled had some fatal flaw her boss couldn’t overlook, and I’ve been watching her patience erode with every dismissive shake of Chanda’s head.
One obvious issue is that none of these dresses are made for her. They’ve been chosen for Annika’s dancer’s frame, not Maddy’s soft curves. I watch as she tugs at hems and shifts in place under Chanda’s scrutiny, her frustration building.
“I’ve got a good feeling about the next one,” Chanda says brightly, her optimism undeterred.
I hope she’s right. If this doesn’t work, I wouldn’t put it past Maddy to choose violence.
Suddenly, Chandra inhales sharply next to me, her hand flying to her chest. “Ohhh.”
I turn to follow her gaze, and the sight before me slams into my chest like a bullet train.
Maddy floats toward us in a dark green gown.
The fabric is rich, almost shimmering, catching the light as she moves.
The deep shade of emerald compliments her fair skin, while the neckline draws my gaze for longer than it should.
The gown cradles her curves, skimming over her hips and dipping into the hollow of her waist like it was custom-made for her and her alone.
I can’t look away. My breath hitches in my lungs and my pulse pounds in my ears. She looks beautiful. Stunningly beautiful. Her expression is hesitant and all I want to do is pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and take her far away from here.
After the stunt Valentina pulled, I highly doubt she’d come willingly.
God. Why did she have to show up when she did? Or at all? Valentina’s timing could not have been worse and the shock and hurt on Maddy’s face? That’s something I’m not going to forget anytime soon.
After Maddy left, it took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to go after her. But the shitty thing about respecting someone’s boundaries and giving them space is that you have to do it even when you don’t want to. I learned that from the self-help book, but I wish I hadn’t.
Valentina was aloof as always when I confronted her.
She couldn’t understand why I was upset.
It turns out that the guy she’d recently been dating turned out to be involved in some kind of money laundering scandal.
Her management team thought it would be good for her image to reconnect with me.
Apparently, people liked her more when she was dating a popular athlete as opposed to a criminal.
She laid the entire thing out like it was a business transaction.
I made it abundantly clear to her that I had no interest in improving her brand. She’d pouted like a spoiled child, and when that didn’t work, cut her losses and left me to my misery.
But the damage was done.
I finally tear my gaze away from Maddy before my thoughts can run away with me, but it’s too late. The image of her in that gown is burned into my brain for life.
“You are a vision,” Chanda breathes as she approaches her.
“Stunning,” Claus agrees, giving her a look of admiration that I’d like to wipe off his polished face.
“Thank you,” Maddy says quietly, clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention. “I’m sure Annika will look much better in it.”
Not fucking possible.
“Stand next to Ben. Let’s see the outfits together.” Chanda instructs and Maddy softly pads over to me, her bare toes peeking out from under the hem of the dress. She stops roughly two feet away from me.
“Closer,” Chanda says, waving her hands together.
Maddy takes another step towards me and I get an intoxicating whiff of her shampoo.
“Closer,” Chanda repeats. “I want to see you side by side. Shoulder to shoulder.”
I’m frozen to the spot. I couldn’t move if I tried. Maddy takes one more step, standing directly beside me. Our arms brush together and even through the layers of fabric, my hair there stands on end.
“Perfection,” Chanda declares as she gazes at us like we’re the final brushstroke on a masterpiece. “Don’t you think?” she asks Claus, who much to my annoyance hasn’t taken his eyes off Maddy since we stepped into the room.
“They make a very striking pair,” he agrees.
Chanda claps her hands once, delighted. “I think we have our winners! Claus, would you set these outfits aside for Ben and Annika?”
“Of course,” he replies. “We’ll bring them in for a final fitting closer to the date.”
“Wonderful.” She turns to Maddy with a warm smile. “Madelyn, I’m off to meet my husband for a late lunch.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you back at the office.” Maddy replies, already backing away from me like she’s trying to escape.
Chanda turns her attention to me, her tone gracious. “Ben, thank you so much for coming.”
“My pleasure,” I manage, though my voice comes out hoarse and thin.
Claus sees Chanda out and Maddy immediately retreats in the opposite direction. With a defeated sigh, I head to my dressing room. The second the door shuts behind me, I sink onto the plush velvet chaise, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.
I’m losing my grip.
Every time I take a step forward—every time I think we might be finding our way back to each other—something knocks me two steps back.
Hope is a dangerous thing. It creeps in quietly, threading itself through the cracks, whispering promises of second chances.
When Maddy left Derek, I let myself believe this might be it—our chance to finally get it right.
But maybe I was wrong. Maybe the universe is just messing with me, dangling her in front of me long enough for me to taste what I’ve been missing before yanking her away again.
What if she doesn’t choose me?
What if she thinks long and hard about what she needs and decides that it’s not me?
I drag myself off the chaise, take my time changing out of the formalwear, and tug my sweater over my head as I step back into the hallway. The soft wool catches on my elbow as I glance down the corridor.
Maddy’s door is still closed.
Should I wait for her? Ask if she needs a lift back to her office? At the very least I have to say goodbye.
As I’m approaching her door, I hear her call, “Claus?”
“No. It’s Ben.” I don’t hide the irritation in my tone at her hoping I was another man.
“Oh. Umm. Could you find Claus?”
“Why?”
“Nevermind, why,” she practically hisses at me. “Just tell him I need him”
Something is up.
“Say please, Madness.”
“Please.” She grits out.
I pause before saying. “Nope. Not until you tell me what you need him for.”
She groans on the other side of the door, and I’m fairly certain if there wasn’t a wall between us, she’d rip out my throat.
She mumbles something that I can’t make out.
“What?”
“The zipper is stuck.” There’s a thud against the door like she’s banging her head against it. “I told him it was too small, but he insisted on forcing it and now I can’t unzip it.”
“Have you tried jiggling it?” I ask, unable to keep the smile off my face.
“I’ve jiggled it, wiggled it—I’ve even tried whispering sweet nothings to it. It. Will. Not. Budge. Please, Ben. Just go find Claus.”
“Let me try.” For a moment, I’m not sure if she heard me. It’s quiet on the other side of the door. And maybe that’s for the best because unzipping Maddy from that dress sounds like a colossally bad idea.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She states plainly.
And she’s right. I know that she’s right, at least on some level. But maybe I’m tired of doing the right thing. Maybe I want to risk making a mistake.
Or maybe I just really don’t want another man helping her get undressed.
“I understand,” I start, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable than she already is. “If you want me to go find Claus,” or maybe a female employee, “I will.”
“I just don’t think it would be appropriate for you to see me in a state of undress.”
A bark of laughter escapes my mouth. “A state of undress? Is that your official statement? Are you testifying for the Senate?”
“Shut up.” I can tell my teasing’s brought a smile to her face by the way she says it.
“What if I keep my eyes closed?”
“You’d keep your eyes closed?”
I place my hand over my heart even though she can’t see the action. “Scout’s honour.”
Another chuckle. I can practically hear her rolling her eyes at me. “You were never a Boy Scout.”
“True. But my sisters were in Girl Guides.”
“So?”
“So…it was great because we always had cookies.”
“Ben,” she giggles loudly. “Stop making me laugh, I’ll rip a seam and this dress definitely costs more than I make in a month.”
“So let me help you.”
Another pause.
“You promise you won’t look?”
I swallow. “I promise.”
The door opens before I have the chance to steel myself against the sight of her.
God, she’s gorgeous. My eyes scan her face like it’s trying to make a core memory.
Her intelligent blue eyes that always seem to be asking a question.
The scattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks.
Those full lips that can alter a man’s brain chemistry when they curve upwards.