Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
“I know, I am sorry…” I fake a cough, “… I can come in, though, since it really does not work without me,” I tell Donny over the phone while heading upstairs to my guest room at Sophia’s.
“As if I’d let you cough into the patrons’ drinks. Stay away, Costa,” he warns, hanging up.
I have never called in sick before. I’ve even worked with a fever. But Donny would never let me take a Sunday off just because I have plans. And since the internship pays so well, it is not the end of the world to miss a night’s worth of tips.
Fuck, life must be so easy if you don’t have to fight for every damn penny.
I open the door to my room and walk in, needing to get ready for the exhibition. I hope there is no dress code because I don’t think they’ll let me in wearing jeans and a hoodie if they do.
When I look down at my bed, I am left in disbelief. There it lies, the absolute dream dress I tried on while shopping with Xander and Sophia.
It is beautiful, Bordeaux-red, sparkling, soft, and way too expensive for me.
I pull my phone out and text Xander.
This is too much.
Xander
It was made for you.
It’s still too much.
Just say thank you.
Doesn’t have the same effect over text.
While I wait for his answer, I stand there, stroking the fabric and contemplating if I can be a little bit selfish this one time because, fuck, the dress is so damn pretty, when my door opens, and Xander walks in.
He is dressed in a black suit, his hair on top of his head in a man bun, looking sleek and bitable.
“Hey, ever heard of knock—” I start, but he stands in front of me and grips my chin, effectively cutting me off.
“Get that beautiful ass of yours in the dress so I can flaunt and spoil you tonight,” he orders, his voice deep.
That went straight to my pussy, which throbbed in response.
“Xander—” I begin again, but he pulls my bottom lip down with his thumb.
“For me?” he asks, his eyes fixed on my lips.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Good girl,” he praises, stroking his thumb over my bottom lip again, hard, before quickly stepping back. “Half an hour enough for you? We have to drive over to Brooklyn.”
My eyes go wide. “Oh, okay, sure. Half an hour works.”
He nods and closes the door behind him when he leaves.
I look back at the dress and see two boxes sitting on the bed beside it.
I open one to reveal a pair of black high heels.
I have never worn anything with a heel, but they fit perfectly when my feet slide in.
Thankfully, they aren’t too high, and walking in them is manageable.
In the other box is the beautiful lingerie set Xander bought me.
The man is crazy.
I take a super quick shower before getting into the underwear, looking at myself in the mirror, and feeling sexy for the very first time in my life.
But when I slip on the dress, the bra shows and there’s a very noticeable panty line.
I do my hair and makeup, thinking about what I should do, but ultimately decide, screw it.
I take the lingerie off, leaving me in the dress and shoes, nothing else.
There is a knock on the door before it opens a slit. “You ready?” Xander asks.
“Coming,” I holler, looking at my reflection in the mirror one last time, not believing I can look like this.
I open the door fully, and Xander stands in the doorway, a forearm leaning on the top of the doorframe, looking down at me. His eyes roam me from head to toe. He stands straight, reaching out for a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers.
“There are no words to describe how beautiful you are,” he whispers softly, and I huff, but he reaches out and pulls me into a hug, kissing the top of my head. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”
His words send a shiver down my back as he takes my hand, leading me down the stairs. I grab my backpack off the floor next to the entry and slip my wallet out of it when I notice I have nowhere to put it or my phone. I can’t bring the backpack.
“Leave it here, you don’t need them. I am going to take you to dinner after the exhibition, and next time we do this, I’ll make sure to get you a purse that matches the shoes.” Xander smirks at me, looking down at my feet.
I roll my eyes. “There will not be a next time if you don’t stop buying me stuff.”
“Oh, there will. I need to see you in that dress at least ten more times,” he mutters when I put my wallet back.
“I am going to put my phone in the living room real quick,” I declare, walking over there to find Clay and Joshua sitting around, talking.
“Holy shit,” Clay breathes out, standing from the couch as he sees Xander and me coming in.
“I bet you regret telling him you don’t want to go to any more exhibitions now.” Joshua chuckles and greets me with a peck on the lips.
“Could you please watch my phone while we’re gone? Chiara is with Leo tonight. Maybe she’ll text or call,” I ask him.
“Don’t worry, I got you. You go and just enjoy.” Joshua smiles, showing his dimples.
“Babe, give me your phone. I left mine next door, but I need a picture of you guys. That’s so going to be my new background.
” Clay grins, making me shoot him a look.
“Don’t scrunch up that pretty face, kitten.
Stand next to Xander, please.” I do as he says, and Xander puts an arm around me.
Then he pulls me into his side and leans down to kiss my temple, making me smile.
“Oh my God, this is perfect. You guys are adorable,” Clay admires, taking what seems like a hundred pictures.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I cut him off, stepping away from Xander.
Joshua takes my hand, tugging me to the side.
“I need one for my phone too.” He smiles, “You look absolutely stunning. I am so proud to call you mine.” My heart melts, and he takes out his phone to snap some pictures of just me before he leans in to get a couple of selfies with me, kissing my cheek.
“Have fun, my Carolina. I love you,” he whispers in my ear.
I kiss him, whispering back, “I love you too.”
“Come on.” Xander stretches his hand out for me. “Let’s go.”
It’s a good thing the entry to the exhibition is just a few feet away because on the way here, it started snowing, and I hadn’t thought to buy her something to put on over the dress.
I am an idiot.
I round the truck to open the door for her, lifting her out of it.
It took us about half an hour to get there, and the drive was pleasant.
As I told her about the artist, an old friend from art school, she listened intently, and I found that I liked talking to her about the subject.
I already knew she was smart, but when talking with her about different art styles and epochs, I discovered this girl is interesting and educated.
I had no idea I could fall for her even more.
We enter the gallery, and I grab her a glass of champagne from the server offering them. Since I’m driving, I select a glass of water.
“You don’t drink?” she asks, taking the glass from me.
“Not when I drive and have precious cargo.” I shrug, watching how her full lips form around the glass to take a sip before she scrunches up her pretty nose and purses her lips. “What?” I can’t help but smile at her in amusement.
“I don’t know what I’d expected, but not that.” She shudders. “Why do people drink that? It’s bitter.”
I take the glass from her and hand it to the next server with empty glasses on his tray. “Let’s have a look around,” I propose, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her farther into the exhibition.
It is centered around dark canvases with white and gray portraits on them. The people in the portraits are screaming, and the upper half of their faces are smudged. They’re only recognizable from the nose down.
“Oh my God, those are stunning,” Carolina admires, walking over to one where the man on the canvas looks especially pained.
“I knew you would be into that,” I remark with a smile, loving that she seems to like them.
“Hayes, long time no see,” a voice greets from behind me, and I have to rein in a huff before I turn.
“Bishop,” I greet, looking over at the blond, conceited snob I haven’t seen in a few years. He still looks exactly the same as he did in art school.
“What a surprise to see you here. I thought you gave up canvases for human skin,” he comments with a sly smirk.
I’m just about to answer when he turns to Carolina, stretching out his hand for her to shake.
“Since Hayes seems to have forgotten his manners, I will introduce myself. Daniel Bishop, I recently bought this art museum.”
Well, shit, we sure as fuck wouldn’t have come here if I had known that.
Bishop’s hand is still outstretched to Carolina, who shoots me a quick glance. She seems to sense that I don’t like this guy because she slips her bored face on and only looks him up and down without taking his hand.
God, how I love this woman.
Bishop awkwardly takes his hand back, turning to me. “Well, Phillips outdid himself with this exhibition, don’t you think? People really like the anger and despair in his work.”
Carolina turns and walks farther into the room, looking at the paintings, so I do too, walking behind her while Bishop trails us from canvas to canvas, making me hate him even more.
I wanted to spend time with Carolina, not being chased by the ghosts of my past.
She comes to stand before a painting that is completely black, other than a mix of gray, with a hand outstretched to the viewer. If you look closely, you can make out a face in the shadows, eyes crying. The painting is titled Save Me.
Carolina tilts her head, examining it closely. As I take her in, I watch many emotions cross her face. If we were alone, I would ask her what the painting is moving inside her.