Chapter 36
Serena
“Wow.”
“Really?”
“I mean, wow.”
Blushing, I tug on the black silk fingerless gloves that cover my arms from the top of my hand to my elbow.
“I’m so envious of your rack,” Rue says. “Look at those girls.”
Giggling, I look down. I do look hot in this black strapless dress that sweeps the floor, with a tight bodice, and shows off my cleavage nicely with excellent support for my larger breasts.
Logan is going to freak out. In a good way, I hope.
He has begged and pleaded over our many phone calls and texts over the last two days to see my dress, but I have refused, wanting him to see me for the first time in person.
Rue had to lend me the money to buy it, but I’ll totally pay her back when I can.
We tried to stuff my curves into one of her dresses, but yeah, nope.
That wasn’t happening. I looked like a strung-up joint of beef ready for the oven.
Not attractive.
“You look amazing,” I compliment her, dressed in her signature white, a slinky designer halter neck dress that barely covers her tits or the top of her ass at the back.
It’s long but has no back in it at all. She’s held in with tit-tape, which wouldn’t hold even one of my breasts for a microsecond before creaking with the strain and then giving up, exhausted and spent.
“Logan is going to lose his mind when he sees you,” Rue says, handing me a black lacy mask that partially covers my face.
My hair is coiled up in a tight bun on top of my head.
I wanted to leave it loose, but it’s too recognizable should Quentin be lurking.
I mean, I’m no fool. If he looks at me, he will know who I am, but the slight anonymity the mask gives me settles my raging nerves a little bit.
A knock at the door distracts Rue. She crosses to open it while I fuss with the top of my dress, paranoid it's going to slip down too far and show a nipple or two to the world. But it’s secure and not going anywhere.
“Rue, darling!”
Looking up at the female voice with the slight accent that sounds like honey dripping slowly onto melted chocolate, I blink at the woman descending on Rue in a tight hug before she releases her and steps aside for her husband to do the same.
It doesn’t take a genius to know these are Rue’s parents. Rue looks exactly like her mother.
After embracing her father, she turns to me with a smile. “This is Serena. Serena, these are my parents, Francesca and Viktor.”
“Ah, yes! Serena!” Francesca exclaims, sweeping over to me in an unsurprisingly white couture dress that probably cost more than my entire year’s rent. “You are magnificent. Look at you!”
Grinning, despite my nerves, I decide I love Francesca.
She gathers me to her in a tight hug like she did with Rue, and I nearly weep at the sudden emotion that goes over me.
My mother-slash-aunt has never hugged me in quite such an emotive way before.
A quick squeeze or shoulder hug is her go-to.
This is a proper embrace. Knowing I have to speak to my mother-aunt-whatever soon, I step back, feeling a bit dejected that the thought ruined my moment with Francesca.
“Beautiful,” Francesca says, her dark hair bouncing in waves around her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Di’Castello. You are a vision.”
“Oh!” she cries. “Call me Frrrancesca!” She holds her arm up dramatically, sending a waft of expensive perfume in my direction as she rolls her R, making me giggle.
“Francesca.”
She smiles and turns to her husband. “Viktor, don’t just stand there; say hello to our daughter’s wonderful new friend.”
Shyly giving the devastatingly handsome man a small, awkward wave, he steps forward to give me a hug as well, surprising me into making a muffled ‘oof’ sound as he crushes me.
“As pretty as Rue said,” he croons, his voice making me want him to sing to me or even just keep talking.
Catching Rue’s eye, she’s giggling, clearly at home with her parent's ostentatious behavior. I’m in awe. They’re magnificent.
“We shall all ride together,” Francesca says, sweeping back over to Rue to brush a stray lock of hair away from her eyes.
“No, that’s okay, Mom. We’ve got a car coming.”
“Cancel it.”
I feel like it’s an order I wouldn’t argue with, even on my most ornery day. The confidence I thought I had when I first yelled at Rue has vanished over the last few days, having been battered and swept off my feet by events. I wonder if that bit of mean girl even still exists in my soul anymore.
“Okay,” Rue mutters and pulls out her phone.
“Come,” Francesca says, looping her arm through Viktor’s and leading us out.
Exchanging an impressed look with Rue, who just rolls her eyes, we head out. I have no idea who they are to Logan’s company, but I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this ride a lot more than when I thought it was going to be Rue and me and my nerves.