25. Maddie
25
MADDIE
The boutique door chimed softly as Ian held it open for me, his hand brushing lightly against the small of my back as I stepped inside. The air was scented with leather and something floral—luxury bottled and diffused into every corner of the store. Soft jazz music played overhead and racks of dresses stood like works of art.
“Let’s find you something unforgettable,” Ian murmured, his voice low, his hand lingering on my back, steady and warm.
I glanced up at him, catching the faint curve of his lips, the way his dark eyes glimmered with something playful and intent.
“Unforgettable might be a little ambitious,” I teased lightly, trying to keep things casual even as the tension between us seemed to thrum like a live wire.
“Not for you,” he said without hesitation, his hand guiding me toward the nearest rack of dresses.
I swallowed, glancing down at the racks, but my thoughts stayed with him. What was going on between us? This whole fake engagement had started as a ruse—a way to fend off Margot and her meddling. But standing here with Ian, his attention solely on me, his touches lingering just a little too long… It didn’t feel fake.
“Can I help you find something specific?” A bubbly brunette in a sleek black dress approached us, a bright smile lighting her face. “Are we shopping for a special occasion?”
“Kind of.” Ian turned to her; his smile effortlessly charming. “We just got engaged, and I want to show her off at a business summit tonight.”
The clerk’s eyes widened slightly, her gaze flicking between Ian and me.
For a moment, I wondered if she recognized him. Ian wasn’t a huge celebrity or anything, but with his billionaire status and a history of dating a few high-profile starlets, it wasn’t impossible for someone to connect the dots.
But if she did recognize him, she didn’t say anything.
“Oh, congratulations!” the clerk said, her tone genuinely enthusiastic. “That’s so exciting! How did you two meet?”
Ian glanced at me, his smile softening into something that felt intimate, almost tender. “We got stuck in an elevator together,” he began, his voice effortlessly sliding into the familiar story we’d crafted. But this time, he expanded on the details, adding small flourishes and moments that made it feel more vivid and real.
I watched, half in awe, as he charmed her completely, spinning the tale we’d told Drake the night before into something even more captivating.
By the time he finished, the clerk was pressing a hand over her heart, her expression soft. “That’s such a sweet love story,” she gushed. “You fell in love, and now you work together?”
“That’s right.” His gaze flicked to mine, warm and unguarded. “And now that she’s mine, I want to make sure everyone knows it.”
“Well then…” Her gaze shifted to me. “How about we find you something perfect?”
As she led us toward a rack of gowns, Ian stayed close, his hand brushing against mine. My pulse skittered at the light contact, and I couldn’t help but glance up at him, wondering what he was thinking. His expression was unreadable, but every now and then, I would catch him sneaking glances at me—quick, almost shy. Like he couldn’t help himself.
The clerk pulled a gown from the rack, a shimmering navy piece with a plunging neckline and an elegant, flowing skirt. “How about this one?” she asked, her eyes lighting up as she held it out for us to see.
Ian took the dress from her, his expression thoughtful as he held it up in front of me, tilting his head slightly as he studied it. “What do you think?”
I glanced at the dress, the luxurious fabric catching the light like ripples on water. “It’s beautiful,” I admitted.
His gaze shifted to mine, and something in his eyes softened further. “Try it on,” he said gently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I think it’ll look amazing on you.”
Unable to argue when he asked like that, I took the dress and stepped into the fitting room, closing the door behind me. My fingers trembled slightly as I slipped out of my clothes and into the gown, the cool silk sliding over my skin like a whisper.
When I turned to face the mirror, I stilled, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me. The deep navy color made my skin glow and brought out the brightness of my eyes, and the way the fabric hugged my figure was nothing short of magical. I’d never worn anything so expensive, so refined in my life, but for some strange reason, I felt like I belonged in it.
A quiet knock on the door broke my thoughts, and Ian’s voice drifted through. “How’s it going in there?”
“It’s…good,” I managed to say, my cheeks heating as I smoothed my hands over the fabric.
“Can I see?” he asked, his tone curious.
I hesitated for a moment, butterflies stirring in my stomach, but then I took a deep breath and opened the door. “Okay,” I said, stepping out slowly.
Ian’s reaction was immediate, his gaze sweeping over me with an intensity that made me feel rooted to the spot. His eyes darkened slightly as they traveled from the plunging neckline to the flowing skirt, and his breath seemed to hitch for just a fraction of a second.
“You…” He stopped, his voice thick, before he cleared his throat and tried again. “You look stunning.”
“You think so?” My cheeks burned under his unwavering stare. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“No,” he said, stepping closer, his hand brushing my arm. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
My heart stuttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone making it impossible to dismiss them as part of our act.
Was he pretending? Or was this something more?
Before I could figure it out, though, the clerk reappeared with another dress, a sleek black piece with a dramatic slit up one side. Ian didn’t even wait for her to suggest it before nodding toward the fitting room. “That one too.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Dress after dress, Ian’s reactions left me breathless. Each time I stepped out of the dressing room, his gaze would sweep over me, slow and deliberate, as if he was raking in every detail—taking in every single inch there was to see, like he couldn’t get enough.
And dang, I’d thought the man was sexy before. But the way his eyes lingered… The look of hunger and approval in them… Well, I didn’t think I’d ever had anyone look at me like that before.
“Turn around,” he murmured after I tried on an elegant red dress with a low back. His voice was soft but firm, and when I hesitated, his lips quirked into a reassuring smile. “I just want to see the full effect.”
I turned slowly, feeling the silky fabric glide against my skin. His silence stretched, his gaze practically a touch of its own, and when I peeked over my shoulder, I caught him rubbing his jaw, like he was trying to keep his thoughts in check.
“You’re going to break hearts in that,” Ian mumbled, his voice rough, lower than usual.
The words hit me like a ripple of warmth, spreading through my chest and down to my toes. I felt my cheeks heat, and I clutched the soft fabric of the dress, trying to ground myself.
“We’re just trying to break Margot’s heart, remember?” I tried to joke, but my voice wavered, betraying the unsteadiness I felt.
Ian didn’t laugh right away. His gaze held mine, steady and searching, and something unspoken flickered in the dark depths of his eyes. The kind of thing that made my chest tighten and my heart pound in a way I couldn’t control.
When he finally spoke, his voice was softer. “Honestly, Maddie,” he murmured, the vulnerability in his tone cutting straight through me, “I’m starting to worry you’ll end up breaking my heart before we’re done with all of this.”
What? His words hit me like a lightning bolt, leaving me momentarily stunned. Did I hear him right?
Did Ian Hastings—the man who had the world at his feet—really think I could break his heart?
It didn’t seem possible. The idea that I could matter to him, that he could care enough about me for his heart to even be at risk—it didn’t compute. Not when he was so far out of my league.
Not when I was just…me.
“I…” My voice faltered, my throat tightening. “I wouldn’t want to do that.” The words were barely more than a whisper, but the moment they left my lips, I realized how deeply I meant them.
The thought of hurting Ian in any way sent a dull ache through my chest. He’d been nothing but kind to me—thoughtful, patient, even protective. And the way he looked at me sometimes, the way he’d been looking at me this afternoon…felt like he saw something in me I wasn’t sure I even believed in myself.
I glanced up at him, and the intensity in his gaze stole the air from my lungs. But then his lips curved into a small, almost hesitant smile as he said, “You say that now, but…what happens when Theo texts you again? I mean, how am I supposed to compete with a hot, single dad?”
I blinked at him, caught off guard by the comment. Was he actually worried about Theo?
Because as awesome as Theo seemed to be, there was literally no competition there. Not when I was already falling so hard for my boss.
But when I tried to tell him that, no words would come out.
And I wasn’t sure if he could sense the words lingering on the tip of my tongue, the ones I was too afraid to say, but he sent me a carefree smile, stepping back as if to ease the tension and said, “Let’s get the matching shoes and a clutch for that one, shall we?”
I blinked, my heart still racing, struggling to catch up with whatever had just passed between us. His shift back to practicality was almost disorienting.
Glancing at the growing pile of items Ian and the store clerk had already gathered, I swallowed hard. It was so much.
“I don’t need all of this,” I said softly, my voice tinged with uncertainty. “Really. It’s…it’s too much.”
He tilted his head, his playful smirk back in place. “Maddie, I’m not just your fiancé—I’m your billionaire fiancé. Spoiling you is part of the job description.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He winked, cutting me off. “Besides, it sells the act. Margot would never believe I’d let you get away with just one dress.”
Oh. His words brought me back to reality—the reality where this wasn’t real.
I’d been letting myself get too caught up in the moment, in the way Ian made me feel, and had started to forget this was all an elaborate show. An act. For Margot. For everyone watching.
Probably even for the store clerk.
Was that why he’d said that thing about me breaking his heart? Because he knew she was nearby?
My stomach sank as the realization settled in. He was playing his part perfectly, but I was starting to forget that I was supposed to be playing mine, too.
I forced a smile and nodded toward the fitting room. “I’m going to change out of this, okay?”
“Okay.” Ian nodded, stepping back to give me space. “But before you do, there’s one more dress I’d like you to try on.”
He held out another gown—a deep purple, floor-length piece that sparkled like a thousand tiny stars under the boutique’s lighting. My breath caught when I glanced at the price tag.
Twelve thousand dollars.
“I can’t wear this.” I stared at it, my face draining of blood. “It’s too much.”
“Just humor me. Please.” He shrugged, his gaze steady, unaffected. “I promise this is the last one. I just…” He trailed off, his voice softer now. “I just think it’ll look really good on you.”
There was something in his tone, something earnest, that made me pause. His eyes held mine, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.
So, confused but unable to resist, I said, “Okay.”
I took the gown and returned to the fitting room, my heart thudding unevenly as I slipped out of the previous dress and into the new one. The fabric was heavier, but the cut was exquisite, the shimmering material molding to me in a way that made me feel like I’d just stepped out of a fairytale.
Once it was on, I glanced at my reflection, stunned. This dress didn’t just look expensive—it looked like it was made for royalty.
But as I reached for the zipper, it caught halfway up.
I twisted awkwardly, panic blooming in my chest as I tried to see what had happened.
But the zipper wouldn’t budge.
Crap! Have I just ruined a twelve-thousand-dollar dress?
“Maddie?” Ian’s voice came from outside just as I was trying to figure out how many months of salary I’d need to pay for this. “Everything okay in there?”
“Uh…I—” I hesitated, not knowing what to do. But since I literally couldn’t get out of this dress without ruining it further, I said, “I think the zipper’s stuck.”
“Come out. I’ll see if I can fix it.”
I checked my reflection to make sure I was decent before stepping out.
Ian’s gaze swept over me the moment I appeared, his eyes sharpening as they took in the dress. But he didn’t say anything about that. Instead, he stepped forward, his expression shifting to concern as he examined the back of the gown.
I turned slightly, giving him a better view of my back, acutely aware of the gown’s zipper caught halfway up, probably revealing too much of my lacy maroon bra.
I hardly ever wore sexy underwear. But of course, on the one day I had, my boss had to see it.
Hopefully, he didn’t think I’d worn it with the intent to seduce him later.
The silence between us stretched, charged, as I felt his gaze settle on me. The heat of his nearness radiated like a quiet hum.
“It looks like it got stuck on this,” he murmured as his fingers tugged gently on my bra, his voice soft, almost intimate.
“Yeah?” I managed to say, my throat suddenly dry.
“Yeah…” And when he moved closer, my breath hitched—the air around us seeming to thicken.
His fingers grazed my back lightly, warm and deliberate against the fabric of the gown. I could feel every point of contact. As if his touch carried a quiet electricity, surging through the thin barrier between his skin and mine.
“Hold still,” he said, his tone low and intimate, a quiet command that made my pulse race.
His knuckles brushed the curve of my spine as he gently tugged at the zipper, and I couldn’t stop the shiver that raced through me.
Why did this feel so good? So intimate—every second stretching as his careful movements drew out a tension I couldn’t ignore.
My heart raced, thundering loud in my ears, and I was sure he could hear it. I stared straight ahead, forcing myself to breathe as the delicate pull of the zipper eased higher.
“Got it,” he said, the words barely louder than a whisper. His voice was deeper now, softer, and instead of stepping back, he stayed close. His hand lingered at the base of my back, warm and steady, as if he wasn’t quite ready to break the contact.
I turned slowly to face him, clutching the fabric at my waist to keep my hands from trembling. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like the fitting room melted away. The world narrowed to just us.
“That dress,” he said, his voice reverent, his gaze sweeping over me like a caress. “It’s perfect. Like it was made for you.”
The sincerity in his tone made my chest tighten, and I struggled to find words. “Y-you really think so?”
His brow furrowed slightly, as though my question didn’t make sense to him. “Maddie,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, “how could I not?”
The words hit me harder than I expected, striking something deep and vulnerable inside me. After years of feeling like I wasn’t enough, of being overlooked or left behind, hearing Ian say those words—seeing the way he looked at me—unraveled something tightly wound in my chest. It was as though he was trying to tell me that I was someone worth noticing. Someone worth more than I’d ever believed.
Before I could respond, he gently turned me toward the mirror, his hands steady on my shoulders. My reflection stared back at me, draped in the shimmering gown that hugged every curve. His hand drifted higher, brushing a stray curl from my shoulder, the light graze of his fingers sending a quiet hum through me.
“What do you think?” he asked, his voice soft but weighted with something I couldn’t quite name. “Do you like it?”
I swallowed hard, staring at the woman in the mirror who didn’t quite feel like me but who, for the first time, looked like someone who could be…enough.
“I love it,” I admitted, the words quiet but honest.
“Good.” His gaze met mine in the mirror, his expression warm, almost proud. “Because you look incredible.”
“You don’t think I look…like an imposter?” I turned my head slightly, catching his eye. “Like someone who doesn’t belong in a dress like this?”
His expression softened, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. “No, Maddie,” he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. “You don’t look like an imposter. You look beautiful. Like you’re much too good for the likes of me.”
The words hit me with a force I wasn’t prepared for. After years of feeling like I was never enough, like I was always second-best, it was hard to accept that someone like Ian could see me like this.
Not as someone forgettable or disposable, like my mom and Jaxon had made me feel when they left me behind, but as someone who mattered.
And that terrified me. Because with every lingering look, every gentle touch, Ian Hastings was making it harder for me to believe that this wasn’t real.
By the end of our shopping spree, I wasn’t just walking away with two dresses—I had shoes, jewelry, and even a designer clutch to complete the look. I tried to argue that it was too much, but Ian just waved me off, grinning as he picked out a tie to match my red dress in less than a minute.
“You’re surprisingly decisive,” I said, watching him pay with the effortless swipe of his black Amex.
He shrugged, his eyes meeting mine. “I know what I want.”
And from the way he said it, the way his gaze lingered…it was impossible not to wonder if he was also referring to me.
Was it possible that I could be something he wanted?