Chapter Thirty-Seven
Zade
As we step into Bergdorf Goodman, the grandeur of the store almost swallows us whole.
The polished marble floors gleam under the warm lights, and the air smells faintly of expensive perfume and polished wood.
Juniper’s eyes widen, her steps faltering as she takes in the opulence surrounding us.
The chandeliers hanging above us cast a golden glow on everything, making it all feel just a bit surreal.
I catch the edge of her hesitation and give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s find you something special,” I say, my voice gentle, yet laced with determination. She deserves this, every bit of it, even if she’s too humble to see it.
We’re approached by a saleswoman, impeccably dressed, her smile professional yet warm. She’s quick to notice Juniper’s uncertainty, the way her eyes dart around like she’s searching for the nearest exit.
“Good afternoon, how can I assist you today?” she asks, her tone smooth, practiced.
I step forward slightly, keeping Juniper close. “We’re looking for a dress for my girlfriend here,” I say. “Something stunning. ”
The saleswoman nods, her eyes appraising Juniper for a brief moment before she gestures towards a section of the store. “Right this way,” she responds, leading us past mannequins draped in couture gowns, each more extravagant than the last.
Juniper’s gaze flits from one dress to another. I can tell she’s overwhelmed, but there’s a spark in her eyes that wasn’t there before—curiosity, maybe even a hint of excitement.
We reach a display of dresses, each one more beautiful than the last. The fabrics shimmer in the light, and I can see Juniper’s fingers twitch, like she’s resisting the urge to touch them. I smile to myself, pleased that I was able to bring her here, to show her this side of life.
As we browse through the racks, my eyes catch on a couple of Mac Duggal dresses that stand out from the rest. One is a deep olive green, the kind of color that would make her eyes stand out even more than they already do. The other is a vibrant raspberry, bold and striking, just like her.
“Try these,” I say, pulling them from the rack and handing them to her. The moment the fabric touches her hands, I see the conflict in her eyes—desire warring with practicality.
She glances at the price tags, her face paling slightly. “Zade, these are really expensive...”
I wave off her concerns, my tone firm but kind. “Don’t worry about the cost. Just try them on. I want you to feel as amazing as you look.”
She hesitates, then nods, accepting the dresses with a small, shy smile. “Okay,” she whispers, as if sp eaking too loudly might shatter the illusion around her.
As she disappears into the fitting room, I find myself pacing, anticipation building with each passing second. I want her to see herself the way I see her—to understand that she deserves every ounce of attention, every bit of admiration.
When the door finally opens and she steps out in that olive green dress, it takes my breath away.
The chiffon fabric drapes over her curves perfectly, the neckline highlighting her neck and shoulders.
The short flutter sleeves give her a soft, sweet look, while the ruched waist pulls everything in, showing off her figure.
The ruffled skirt falls just above her knees, skimming over her hips with a grace that leaves me stunned.
“Juniper,” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away. “You look like a dream I never want to wake up from.”
Her blush deepens, and she looks at herself in the mirror, her fingers trailing along the fabric as if she’s trying to convince herself it’s real. “Really? I feel kind of... exposed,” she admits, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
I walk over to stand beside her, our reflections aligning in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” I urge gently but firmly. “You’re stunning, Juniper. More than stunning.”
She studies her reflection, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the image staring back at her. “I guess it does look nice,” she murmurs, almost to herself, as if she’s still processing what she sees.
I smile, squeezing her hand gently. “See? I told you. Now, try the raspberry one. I have a feeling that one’s going to knock me out.”
She disappears into the fitting room again, and I find myself holding my breath, anticipation thrumming through my veins.
When she steps out in the raspberry dress, it’s like the room lights up around her.
The color contrasts beautifully with her skin tone, making her look radiant.
The deep neckline is daring, but the sheer unlined sleeves and the ruched cummerbund give it an elegant, almost regal touch.
“Careful, Juniper,” I say with a grin, my heart skipping a beat as I take her in. “You might give me a heart attack.”
She laughs, the sound like a melody that fills the space between us. “You’re impossible, Zade,” she says, but there’s a warmth in her eyes that wasn’t there before—a confidence that’s slowly starting to emerge.
We continue trying on different outfits, each one more stunning than the last. Juniper starts to relax as she moves from one dress to another. I can see her confidence growing, her laughter coming more easily, her smiles more frequent.
Finally, we have around five dresses picked out. She only wants one, but there’s no way I’m letting her put anything back.
“I’m not letting you return a single one,” I say firmly because the topic is not up for discussion. “Consider it a gift. You deserve them all.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off with a firm shake of my head. “No arguments, Juniper. Let me do this for you.”
She gives me a begrudging look but nods, accepting the dresses. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice soft. “Thank you, Zade.”
With the dresses decided, I steer her toward the shoe section.
The moment we get close, I see her stiffen slightly, her comfort zone shrinking as we approach the rows of delicate heels and strappy sandals.
This is far from her usual style, and it’s clear she’s out of her depth.
Juniper's more at home in her trusty combat boots or chunky platform shoes, the kind that give her an edge and make her feel grounded.
The dainty, fragile footwear in front of us might as well be alien to her.
I spot a pair of Stuart Weitzman heels, sleek and elegant, the perfect match for the dresses. I hold them out to her. “Try these. They’ll look amazing with the dresses.”
She takes the shoes, looking uncertain but willing to try.
As she sits down to slip them on, I can’t help but notice how the heels accentuate her legs, even if she’s not fully steady on them.
When she stands, there’s a slight wobble, but there’s also a determination in her eyes—a stubbornness that I’ve come to admire.
“Not bad,” I say, a hint of teasing in my voice. “Let’s see you walk in them.”
She takes a few care ful steps, her movements tentative but purposeful. It’s clear she’s uncomfortable, but she pushes through, refusing to let the shoes get the better of her. That’s something I’ve always admired about Juniper—her unwillingness to back down, even when things get tough.
As she sits back down, I notice one of the straps has come loose. She bends to fix it, fumbling with the buckle. Without thinking, I kneel in front of her, taking her ankle in my hand.
“Let me,” I say, my voice softer now, almost a whisper. As I secure the strap, my fingers brush against her skin, and for a moment, the world around us fades. A sudden charge sparks between us, something neither of us anticipated but both of us can’t ignore.
I catch the way her breath hitches, the way her eyes widen slightly as my thumb grazes her ankle one last time before I lower her foot. The connection between us is undeniable, and it’s in that moment, kneeling before her, that I realize just how much she means to me.
I stand slowly, holding out my hand to help her up. When she takes it, the touch lingers, the connection strengthens. The store, the people around us, it all fades into the background. All I can focus on is her—the way she looks at me, the way her hand fits perfectly in mine.
We end up buying ten pairs of shoes. Juniper protests, saying it’s too much, but I insist. Seeing her in those heels, with that newfound confidence, is irresistible. She tries to push back, but I won’t hear it. I want her to have them all, to feel the way s he deserves to feel.
When we head back to the car, it’s already dark.
The city lights blur past us as we drive through the bustling streets, but all I can think about is the smile on her face, the way she looked at herself in those dresses.
Today was about more than just shopping; it was about showing Juniper how much she means to me, about helping her see herself the way I see her—strong, beautiful, and deserving of every good thing.
We arrive at my penthouse, and I can see Juniper’s eyes widen again as she takes in the luxurious surroundings. The high ceilings, the modern décor, the panoramic view of the city—it’s a far cry from what she’s used to.
“Wow, Zade, this place is... it’s incredible,” she says, her voice filled with awe, but also a hint of something else—uncertainty.
“Come on in,” I say, leading her inside. “Make yourself at home.”
She hesitates, standing just inside the doorway, her eyes taking in every detail of the space. “I don’t know, Zade. This is all so... overwhelming. Why are you doing all this for me?”
I take her hands in mine, drawing her closer so she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “Because you deserve it, Juniper. You deserve to feel special, to know that you’re worth it.”
She blushes, looking down at our joined hands. “It’s just... it scares me a little,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper .
I lift her chin, making her meet my gaze. “Don’t be scared. I’m here with you, every step of the way.”