26. Ivy
26
IVY
T he wooden armchair situated next to the window was more uncomfortable than the bed where I'd started my scrolling in search of the perfect dress, but I had to force myself out of bed. If not, I'd have stayed there for hours, and that just seemed too depressing.
My thumb swiped upward, tugging the images on the page to move higher. The dress selection was fancy, but I'd never in my life been able to afford something like this. I just knew after James's other events and the dress he bought for me via Genevieve for going out to dinner, I had to look spectacular for this Valentine's gala in three weeks. Still, just seeing the price tag on some of these dresses felt like too much.
It was a business write off, for sure, but how could I justify twenty grand on a gown I'd wear once? The resale value wouldn't be nearly that much, and it wasn't like I catered to wealthy clientele who would require me to be in attendance at their events. But I couldn't very well just show up in one of my off-label business suits either, at least not if I intended to keep my promise to James and dance with him.
Anxiety over the whole thing niggled at my conscience. I wasn't going to tell him about the baby that night and ruin his evening, but I had decided to tell him the next morning as my things were being carried out to the new delivery van I bought with his money. Just the thought of telling him made me feel nauseous again, which was something I was getting used to feeling now. I swallowed down the bile and kept scrolling.
My heart just wasn't in this. Mom's warnings to keep James at arm's length and Mimi's jokes about milking this situation for as much money as possible made me worry about so many things. The James I'd gotten to know was a kind and warmhearted man. Using this baby to weasel my way into his fortune didn't sit right in my heart because it wasn't who I was as a person. Besides, I cared about him too, and I didn't want to hurt him at all.
My thumb kept scrolling, but now I wasn't even looking at the dresses. All I could think about was how bad it was going to hurt to move out of this place and how James would react to learning I was pregnant with his baby and I hadn’t told him right away. It had to be obvious to him that I was avoiding him, though he'd have had no idea why. I didn't trust my own emotions to be stable, and if I broke down crying from guilt or shame, he'd ask why. Then I'd end up telling him and I'd have to live with that over my head for three more weeks.
My eyes fluttered up from the phone screen in my hand and toward the dresser where the fancy dress he bought me was lying. I could just wear that one to the gala, but it hadn't been cleaned. It would save me a bit of money, though the thought of what happened the night I wore it would plague me.
It already plagued me… But wearing that dress again and then dancing with him… I'd have a mental breakdown. I was in love with a man who was so far out of my league, he wouldn't ever look at me as an equal or as a partner. And his support of my new venture was strictly business too, so I couldn’t even look at that and think he'd done it for personal reasons. I had to force my heart not to let my affection for him grow any more intense because in the end, it would be torn away anyway.
A knock on the door startled me and I stood up quickly. "Ms. Hart?" I heard, and I knew it was James. I jammed my phone into my jeans pocket and pushed the hair out of my eyes, then I walked over to the door and opened it.
"Hey," I said, standing in the doorway. I leaned on the partly open door and swallowed the anxiety I'd been feeling that all of a sudden felt like it was going to choke me.
"Hello," he said softly. The deep rumble of his baritone warmed me, though it shouldn't have. I scolded myself for feeling drawn to him, but I wanted comfort. "I thought we could discuss the party…" His eyes peered through the crack in the door over my head and then dropped back to my face. "Am I interrupting?"
"Uh…" I glanced over my shoulder at my messy room and felt embarrassed. Marna had come and helped me clean up a little, promising she'd do it all and I could just sit down, but I shooed her out and ended up leaving the rest there. It was messier now than it had ever been, and I was embarrassed. I turned back to him and sighed. "I was just looking for dresses online—for the gala."
His eyes sparkled as he smiled and said, "I could send Genevieve. She's really quite good."
"Uh, no, thank you. She's a horrible tart of a woman." My chest constricted as I remembered the way she treated me so roughly, but James's warm laughter relaxed me and I joined him with a chuckle.
"She is quite severe sometimes." He held out his elbow. "Come with me…"
I glanced into my room one more time, wishing I could climb back in bed and pretend I was sick or something. Then I sighed and followed him into the hall, taking his arm. "Where are we going?" I asked as I stared down at my feet with only socks.
"Well, Barbra had hundreds of thousands of dollars of dresses and suits. She just left and took almost nothing. You're a little shorter than her, but something in there has to fit. You can have your pick." James's hand wrapped around mine on his bicep. It was just the warmth I needed to reassure my heart—the very same heart I was actively lecturing to shut down and not feel.
"Are you sure she won't mind?" I tiptoed next to him as we approached his door, and he chuckled again.
"I paid for every single one of them, and she's gone. They're yours for the taking, Ms. Hart." He pushed open his bedroom door, and I let go of him as we walked into the cavernous room.
This time, with him here, it felt different. When Genevieve was with me, it felt like I was intruding, like I was seeing James secretly. But this time, I felt awkward and girlish, like a boy just invited me to his bedroom with naughty intentions. My cheeks flushed as he walked right to his walk-in closet and flung the doors open.
It was like a whole other room. I stood in the entrance and saw how large it was and gawked at it. On one side, rows of suits hung on hangers, at least twenty feet deep, and on the other side were gowns, dresses, and suits, color coordinated by the type of garment. Down the center was an island of sorts, a long white dresser with a glass top displaying the shoes organized within it. And at the far end was a vanity with a large oval mirror and lights, and on either side of it stood towering glass displays of every sort of jewelry imaginable. I felt overwhelmed.
"Here…" he said, turning toward the gowns. His hands tugged and sorted, sliding hangers back and forth until his eyebrows went up. "This one is the one I'm thinking of. Try it first and we'll see. If it doesn't work, we'll try any others you like."
James pulled a beautiful dark blue mermaid gown with gemstones sewn into the bodice. They looked like diamonds, but there was no way they could be. I felt my mouth drop as he smiled and held it up. The halter neck had more of the precious gems, and a long, deep cutout between the breasts would leave nothing to the imagination.
"James," I whispered, feeling so overwhelmed there was no way I could even put that on, let alone wear it for his party. Barbra had to have looked amazing in it. I'd just be a poser, pretending to be wealthy when I was just a struggling party planner.
"Put it on, Ms. Hart." He held it out to me, and I took it, and the weight of it made me even more shocked.
"But this had to cost a fortune. It's silk Mikado." I knew it without even reading the tag. The material was used for couture dresses and wedding gowns, of which I'd seen dozens made. I looked up at him, and he winked at me.
"Only the best for you," he said, and he stepped out of the closet. "I'll wait here. Show me when you have it on."
I swallowed the lump in my throat as he shut the door and stared down at the dress. It said size four, which was my size, though the dress did seem long. With heels, it could possibly work, but what the hell was I thinking being in his walk-in closet, putting on his ex-wife's gown? Mom would kill me. Mimi would snicker like a fool, and Kevin would never speak to me again, if he ever wanted to, anyway.
But I stared at that gown a little longer and realized I actually wanted to. There was a part of me that just wanted to feel pampered and spoiled, and while I would never be the gold digger Mom feared James would think me, I did want to put this dress on for a moment and just pretend. Pretend that James loved me, that he knew I was having his baby, and that we were going to his gala together as a couple.
So I tugged my clothes off and put the gown on and stood in front of the mirror to examine myself. I was right. It was a bit on the long side, but it fit me perfectly. The dark blue only accented the warm tones in my hair, and I felt like a princess again, just like I had when Genevieve styled me.
"I'm waiting," I heard him call, and I felt my cheeks flushing with warmth as I thought of him sitting on his bed waiting for me. I almost started to cry too, because as much as my little fantasy made my heart feel hopeful, I knew it was a fool's dream.
I walked toward the door with the skirt dragging and opened both double doors at the same time. James really was seated on the foot of his bed. His eyes widened as I came into view, and then they darkened, flushed with desire. He was composed, though, trying to mask his real reaction, but I could see his pupils dilate.
"Well?" I said, stepping into his room.
"Turn," he said, and his voice was gravelly and choked.
I swallowed hard and turned slowly. The open back of this dress was lower than the one I'd worn before, and this time when I tried the fancy dress on, I hadn't kept my bra on. I felt exposed and chilly, and when he said, "Stop," I stopped. My back was toward him, and I heard the bed springs squeak as he stood.
His hands came around my arms, and I felt his hot breath down my back. I looked down at his right hand on my right arm and felt heat pooling low in my belly with his nearness.
"You look ravishing in that gown, Ms. Hart."
"Better than Barbra?" I asked, and I bit my lip, feeling stupid for saying that. Just the idea of comparing me to her felt wrong. She was a horrible woman for what she did to him, and I shouldn't have brought her up.
"Barbra never wore this gown…" His words vibrated across my skin. It felt like his lips were millimeters from touching my shoulder. "And I doubt she'd have looked as good as you, anyway. You make these diamonds look worthless." His lips pressed on my skin, and I shuddered.
"They're real?" I said, catching the glimmer of light that reflected off one of them. It made the dress seem that much more irrational. I couldn't wear this. I didn't belong in this world.
"And nothing compared to you…" He paused for a second, and his hand slid down my arm and cupped my hip. "Now, since you've got me all worked up, may I take this off you?" James pulled my body backward against his, and I felt his hard dick press into my ass cheek.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would beat out of my chest. He didn't wait for my answer, and I was glad. My groin instantly ached for his touch. His teeth sank into my skin as his other hand slid up to cup one of my breasts. I let out a breath of pleasure and arched my head back to rest on his shoulder.
"I'm beginning to think you brought me here just to fuck me," I told him, and while that niggling fear did weigh on me, I also didn't mind. He was incredible at fucking me, at making my body feel the heights of pleasure.
"And if I did, would that be so bad?" he asked, and I felt his teeth nip at the material of the dress. The snap at the back of my neck sprang loose, then the second one, and he pulled the front of the dress down.
It slid to the floor in a pool of fabric at my feet. I stepped out of the material, leaving me in nothing but my panties and socks.
"No," I breathed out, "it wouldn't be so bad at all." Before I could turn to face him, his hands were on me again, this time pulling me until he had me in his arms. He scooped me up and carried me to bed, and as we walked, I brought my lips to his. He kissed me eagerly, hungrily devouring me, and his stubble scraped across my skin.
James laid me down on the bed, his body hovering over mine. His tie draped over my breasts as he pulled his suit coat off. "Tell me you want this," he growled, and I knew what he meant. He meant was this wild sex okay, and was it okay if that was all it was? Part of me was okay with that because the arousal between my legs was demanding attention. But part of me wanted more. Part of me wanted this house and this life, and his love forever, and that was the part of me that answered him.
"I want this," I said. "All of it." Tears tried to well up, but he claimed my mouth again and I pulled him down hard for the kiss, crushing his lips against mine.
James worked to undress himself between kisses and touching. He had my panties and socks off in record time and was working on his trousers when I reached up and stopped him.
"Let me," I said, and he let out a shaky breath.
I unbuttoned his trousers, taking my time with each button until finally, they slid past his hips. His cock was already hard, ready for me. I grabbed it in my hand and started to stroke him. "You're so big," I said, marveling at the size of him. It would never get old.
"You're so tight," he groaned, and his head arched back when I licked him and drank in his precum. He tasted good, and I was ready for anything he was willing to do for me. I just hoped my heart would remember that this was just sex. Nothing more. Just sex.