Chapter 25 Donovan
Donovan
I told her I loved her, and I still can’t believe it.
A slip of the tongue. I’m normally unflappable, in control of my thoughts and my feelings, but being welcomed into her family home for Thanksgiving had my feelings rushing forward.
I do love her. It isn’t a lie. I’ve completely fallen.
But I wanted to tell her in a more romantic setting.
She also didn’t say it back. But given the situation, her parents and the passing nature of the comment, I can’t blame her.
After I kissed her under the plastic mistletoe like I needed every breath she’d give me, her biological parents left.
No hugs. They just got up from the table and said they were leaving and how disappointed they were with her.
They have strong opinions; however, that isn’t really an issue to me, as everyone is entitled to their opinion.
But it was the way they spoke about their daughter, the way they were so blasé about why they had her and what she means to them.
Do they love her in their own way? Maybe. Did they show it? No.
It was unfathomable to me. Who could ever be disappointed in her? She’s brilliant and they’re blind.
Her uncle Bob, who’s fast becoming one of my favorite people, had a few choice words to say about that, and then once they left, the four of us drank the wine, ate cold turkey, and ended up playing a game of cards.
By the end of the night, it was like they didn’t even turn up, even though I could still see sadness in Jessica’s eyes.
Now, a week later, I still see the usual light in her eyes a little dim. Hence why I’m walking down to her office like a man possessed.
I spot her assistant sitting off to the side, and she looks up at me warily.
“She in?”
Katie nods, and I stride past, giving her no time to announce my arrival before I knock on her office door and enter.
“Right, let’s go.” I push through and then pause. Shelley’s here, sitting with her, the two of them glancing up at me in surprise.
“Donovan?” Jessica looks confused, and Shelley sits upright.
We haven’t talked about how we broach the subject of us in the eyes of other people.
Purely because we really don’t care. But I’m moving chess pieces.
I have the media release ready, HR briefed, and I want to take her out and show the world who she is to me.
I’m no fool; there are press articles out every day.
But they haven’t yet gotten a clear photo of the two of us together.
There are photos of me going to her family home for Thanksgiving; there are photos of her leaving my penthouse.
But so far, there are none of us clearly together, as a couple, and that’s the money shot.
That’s what everyone is waiting for. Because it will solidify what everyone already thinks they know but still aren’t sure about.
That’s why I want it to come out tonight. On our terms. Not due to a sly paparazzi getting a shot of us sneaking around. We don’t have any reason to sneak anymore, outside of just wanting our private lives to be private.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in…” I glance between them, catching Shelley’s shit-eating grin like it’s mid-bloom. She’s perched on the edge of Jessica’s desk, clearly enjoying herself. I know they’re close, so I shut the door behind me and cut straight to it.
“I’m taking you out.” My eyes lock on Jessica.
“Out?” Her eyebrows lift, confusion flickering across her face.
“Ohhh, I need popcorn… This is going to be epic.” Shelley is practically bouncing in place. Her grin widens, and I fight the urge to smile back.
“But I’m not…” She looks down at herself, second-guessing her appearance, and I hate that. She’s beautiful.
“Stop, you’re glowing. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you lit up when he walked in.”
Jessica purses her lips at her friend, her cheeks flushed.
“We’re going out. Tonight. The two of us. I want the media to get their shot.”
“You do?” She’s cautious as I nod.
“I do. It’s time. I want the world to know you’re mine and I’m yours.” I swallow, hoping she feels the same.
Jessica smooths her skirt like she needs something to do with her hands. “You really want to do this?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
I step closer, just enough that I can feel the tension between us thrum. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Shelley claps her hands once. “Okay, I’m officially excusing myself before this turns into a rom-com kiss scene. But I expect a full debrief tomorrow.”
Jessica rolls her eyes. “Talk later.”
“We certainly will…” Shelley snorts as she opens the door and walks out.
Jessica smiles, and I catch that look, the one that says she’s scared but she’s in. That she wants this, even if it’s messy.
“I don’t have anything to wear. There’s not enough time to go home.” She starts to become a little flustered, so I give her a moment to process things before I continue.
“I have a team at my penthouse waiting for you. Clothes, hair, makeup, the works.”
Her eyes widen. I put my plan in place earlier today. I want her to feel like the princess she is. Despite what her parents or anyone else thinks.
I offer my hand. “Ready?”
She hesitates for half a breath, then takes it. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” She looks amazing next to me as Gordon drives us to our first stop. Her hair is pinned back, her dress drapes over her curves, and for the first time ever, she’s wearing contacts. I miss the glasses, but she wanted to skip them for tonight.
“In that dress, I’m debating whether I need to take you straight back to the penthouse.”
“Thank you for all this. For the clothes, the hair, makeup, everything. You’ve made me feel really special.”
My eyes don’t leave hers. “You are special. Very special.” I grip her hand. I don’t know how many times I will need to say it before she believes me, but I will continue saying it. Her parents did a real number on her at Thanksgiving. I don’t think I will ever forgive them for it.
“Mabel would love this dress.” It isn’t the first time I’ve heard Mabel's name.
“Who is this Mabel again? I’ve heard you speak about her before.”
“She’s the lady who owns Thrift on Third.”
I frown, the shop not sounding familiar.
“I get all my clothes from her. She’s dressed me for years. Always has something for me each time I go in to see her.” That thought garners a wide smile.
“She has great taste. You always look amazing.”
“She really does, but…”
“But what?”
“Well, I think she’s planning on closing the store.
She mentioned that business isn’t what it used to be.
I can see that. She doesn’t have a digital presence.
She’s old school. Used to work in the ateliers in Paris.
She has a great sense of style, and I love her so much.
I just hate to see the store she’s built up just close, you know… ” She shrugs, and her smile dims.
“Thrift on Third?” I clarify.
“Yeah. It’s amazing. Like a vintage museum. She has such eclectic taste, yet it all just works.”
“Media are everywhere,” Gordon interrupts from the front just as we pull up to Broadway.
“Oh?” She acts like it doesn’t bother her, but I know it does.
There was an article just yesterday pulling apart her life.
Highlighting the sprinkler store and her aunt and uncle.
He was pleased because they did a roaring trade today, but I know if it doesn’t die down soon, then the media will start to become even more intrusive.
“We’re going to a show?” Her expression brightens, and I know I chose the right place.
“You ready?” I watch as she does her lipstick, pouting her ruby-red lips, the action one that now lives rent-free in my mind.
“Yes, I’ve been wanting to see this show for months,” she says dramatically, and I laugh at her enthusiasm.
That’s another thing I love about her. How she seems to love almost everything.
The basics and the luxuries. The first time we were out for dinner, she ordered pasta.
She doesn’t pick at a salad or skip the breadbasket.
She enjoys life and appreciates the things she has.
That’s why when I see the sparkling diamond earrings on her ears tonight, I smile.
Because I like spoiling her and want to do more of it.
“Let’s go.” I open the door, which Gordon pulls wider, and I step out. Cameras flash in an instant, but I take my time doing up my suit jacket, making them wait with anticipation. I hear them all start yelling frantically the minute Jessica’s heels touch the ground.
I reach for her, and as she stands, I lean down, planting a kiss to the side of her neck where it’s exposed, her hair pulled back from her face tonight. As I do, the flashes become almost overwhelming, even for me. She blanches a little.
“You good?” I murmur, watching her carefully.
“I’m fine.” She nods, giving me a small smile, and I beam at her, the look granting a barrage of flashes again.
“I think they got their money shot. Let’s go.
” I tuck her hand in tight, and we walk along together.
She stands tall, letting me lead, watching me or the doorway we’re walking toward, not striking poses, not looking at the cameras and flashing a Hollywood grin.
She looks effortlessly stunning, untouchable, and it further cements to me that I’m a lucky man.
I lead us inside, her hand holding mine firmly, and I don’t let go as we walk slowly through the throngs of people.
I spot a few people I know, and I shake hands as we walk through, although I don't stop.
This night was about people seeing us together.
Confirming all the rumors. Not networking.
Hopefully, the media will calm down a little now that they have their shot.
Give us a little more privacy as we continue on this path together.
The ushers help us to our seats in the VIP area instantly.
All of them briefed, all of them professional.
“You alright?” I look her over as we’re left alone in the privacy of our small section, high above the general ticket holders.
She nods, smiling softly. “It was intense, but I’m fine.”
I lean over, placing my lips on hers in a brief kiss, just to ensure she’s real before we take a seat and get comfortable.
“I thought after this we might go to Fiorella?”
“I’ve been dreaming of their pasta…”
I grin, already knowing that we’ll both be having the pasta tonight, her love for it now stretching across to me. Before I can say anything else, her phone chimes in her bag, and she pulls it out, frowning.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes, sorry, I'll turn it to silent. It’s just my friend Jimmy.” Her frown doesn’t lighten, and something about it makes me take interest.
“Jimmy?” I haven’t heard her mention him before.
“Just a friend I’ve known for a little while. We caught the subway to work together most days before…” She shrugs, and I fill in the blank. Before I arranged Gordon as her driver. A small token that I will not be removing. Jimmy can just ride solo from now on.
“Maybe we should meet up with him sometime?” I offer, wanting her to see her friends.
“Oh no. It’s fine. We’re more acquaintances than friends. It’s… complicated.”
Something about it all doesn’t sound right, but as the lights dim and the music starts, I look to the stage. Jimmy moved to the back of our minds. For now.