9. Chapter Eight Savannah
Chapter Eight: Savannah
Brighton invites me to stay at her house. No one offers a room to Laurent.
I feel bad about that, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
He announces he’s going to stay at the Ritz-Carlton.
I get the feeling he wants me to go with him, because I can’t help but notice the disappointed look that crosses his handsome face when I accept Brighton’s offered guestroom.
Like it bums him out. Or maybe I’m just imagining it.
Brighton’s place is adorable. It’s like I stepped into the pages of a design magazine.
Everything seems to have its place and is artfully arranged.
She’s very girly, but sophisticated and chic, and her house smells amazing.
Every room has either a candle or wax melt burner, delicious smells wafting from them that somehow match each space’s unique vibe.
Vases of flowers—all fresh peonies—adorn nearly every surface.
She says the massive fluffy blooms that smell so intoxicating are her favorite, and she used to buy them from the flower markets in Paris.
We sit on her couch and chat while sharing a large cheese pizza, a little too much wine and a bakery box of fresh macarons—her other favorite.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a girls’ night, and I need it more than I realized.
Now that Harper is married and a new mom, we haven’t been able to spend as much time together.
At least, not just the two of us. And Brighton is a hoot.
Her striking looks might be the first thing a person notices, but her personality has me cracking up.
She doesn’t hold back and tells it like it is, which is both refreshing and slightly intimidating. Especially when she brings up Laurent.
“What’s going on between you two?” she asks, innocently batting her dark-lined eyes. Even though she has bright emerald-green eyes like Laurent, his are a piercing shade that are solely green, while hers are striated with black.
“What?” I force out a laugh. “Nothing. Why?”
“He seems quite fond of you.”
“Me? What makes you say that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me?” I pretend ignorance, studying the box of confectionery goodness before picking out my next treat.
“Like you’re a cream puff and he wants to lick all your cream out before he devours you,” she declares while munching on a macaron.
Her words make me almost choke on my own macaron.
But she’s considerate enough not to call me out on my reaction, so I take a sip of wine and reach for another cookie.
“These are really good. What bakery are they from?” I lean closer to read the lid, clearly attempting to change the subject, and it’s some French name I can’t pronounce.
“Aren’t they divine?” she gushes, nibbling off another bite. “Although if I keep eating them the way I do, I’m bound to gain ten pounds. They’re from my favorite patisserie in Paris.”
“Did you take a trip recently? I can’t imagine they’d ship internationally. They wouldn’t arrive this fresh.”
“Not exactly,” she hedges. “They were a gift…from…an admirer.”
“What?” I squeal, and her cheeks flush pink. “Do you know who it is?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “No idea. But somehow he seems to know all my favorites.” She sweeps a hand over the room. “I didn’t buy all these peonies.”
It had occurred to me that there was an excessive amount. “Wow, I’d say someone has a pretty big crush on you.”
“Right back at you,” she fires, and we both grin.
I’m not exactly convinced Laurent has a crush on me. I’m a useful part of his plan, sure, but I doubt there’s more to it than that. But a secret admirer? That’s the real deal. And, if you ask me, very romantic.
Saturday night arrives far too fast. I spent the last day and a half hanging out with Brighton, and she kept me busy eating too much takeout, devouring an insane amount of macarons and bingeing rom-coms until I almost started believing I, too, might find a happy ending.
As much fun as I had, I thought about Laurent every spare second.
Truth be told, I missed him and his stupid loafers.
Now it’s time to get our plan rolling, and I’m really looking forward to seeing him very soon.
Flipping through the dresses at the costume shop in search of an outfit to wear to the masquerade party, I’m wondering who’s watching Brighton from afar and sending her such expensive gifts. Curiouser and curiouser.
“How about this one?” Addie asks, holding up a red dress.
Brighton, Addie and Delaney are also riffling through the racks. It’s nice to have a group of women to hang out with, and I wish it could be on a more permanent basis.
“Oh, that’s pretty!” Delaney declares.
“I think I found the perfect dress—for Savannah!” Brighton pulls a royal blue gown off the rack and spins around to show us. It’s slim-fitting, and covered in delicate beadwork and blue, green and gold peacock feathers. “It’ll go fabulous with your hair and eyes.”
“A peacock for the peacock,” Delaney says, and they crack up laughing.
“You think Laurent is a peacock?” I reach for the gorgeous dress and run a hand over the exquisite design-work. Wow. It’s spectacular.
“Well, he is rather showy…” Addie states.
“And arrogant…” Delaney adds.
“And he does strut around you,” Brighton finishes. More laughter erupts, and I’m not sure how I feel about their observations. I mean, he might come off a little…well, a tad snobbish. But that’s only because he likes nice things. And who doesn’t?
“That’s not exactly true.” The urge to stick up for my peacock turns me into a protective mother hen. He did save my life, so he deserves my respect.
“Oh, c’mon,” Delaney scoffs. “Have you ever met a more self-centered man than Laurent? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“He saved my life.” Although I say the words low and soft, the reaction I get from the women couldn’t be louder.
“You said he pulled you out of the burning restaurant.” Addie’s eyes narrow. “Playing the hero isn’t typical of Laurent.”
Funny, he said the same thing to me.
“Luckily, I had just stepped outside,” I tell them, “but I ran back in and grabbed the fire extinguisher. It was stupid of me, but I thought I could put the flames out. But it was much bigger than I realized. Before I knew what was happening, Laurent had run inside. He ran right toward the flames, scooped me up and carried me out. If he hadn’t…
” A shudder runs through me. “Suffice it to say, I’m not sure I’d be here. ”
“Mon dieu,” Brighton gasps, clapping a hand over her heart.
“Oh, Savannah, I’m so sorry.” Addie gives me a hug. “Ryland told me how much Charlie’s Place means to you. But your life is so much more important.”
“You can rebuild,” Brighton states optimistically, patting my arm.
Delaney nods, offering me a thoughtful look. “Maybe I misjudged our peacock and there actually is a heart buried beneath his designer suit.”
“I definitely saw a glimpse of it,” I assure them.
“Have you glimpsed anything else?” Brighton asks, turning cagey and batting her lashes at me.
My eyes go wide. “What? No!” I shift from one foot to the other. “I mean, I might’ve seen him shirtless. And then washed his arms and back—”
“You what?” Addie bursts out.
“He couldn’t reach,” I shoot back defensively as they all exchange knowing looks. “Don’t forget, he got stabbed. I was just…helping.”
“Oh, I’m sure. Sounds like you helped yourself to an eyeful.” Delaney chuckles.
“Did you see anything you liked?” Brighton asks suggestively.
“Oh, my God!” My cheeks heat up. “You guys are terrible.”
“Hmmm.” Addie is studying me so closely, I can’t help but squirm like a bug under a microscope. “You might be exactly what the infamous Laurent needs.”
I’m not exactly sure what she means, but I’m done with this conversation. If they discover the truth—how truly attracted to him I actually am—I’ll never hear the end of it.
“I’m going to try this on,” I announce and spin away to head toward the dressing rooms. Because I have a feeling my preening peacock will approve of the royal blue gown.
Approve is definitely an understatement. We all meet at the A-Squared office, and the moment Laurent sees me, there’s no missing the fire licking at his irises. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he wants to strip me of my feathered gown and skip the party.
“You look ravishing, chérie.” His lips brush the shell of my ear as he whispers the compliment, taking hold of my elbow and leading me away from the others.
“Thank you.” My pulse speeds up and a shiver runs through me at his touch. “You look quite handsome. For a thief. Did you steal your tux?” I tease.
“It’s bespoke. Bought and paid for so it fits me to perfection.”
It definitely fits him divinely. And he looks more than merely handsome, but I don’t want to inflate his ego too much. On a scale of one to ten, the man wears his bespoke tux like a true millionaire. Billionaire maybe? I have no idea what he’s worth, and I honestly don’t care.
He guides me to a corner, turning and blocking me from prying eyes with his much larger frame.
The room seems to have quieted down, and I have a feeling everyone is watching us.
When he trails a finger lightly down my arm and toys with a feather at my hip, I bite my lip and my thighs quiver.
I can’t ignore the Slip ‘N Slide going on between my legs.
The more I think about it, the more I want him to launch himself down my wet track.
After all, they are engineered for maximum splash and enjoyment, right?
“I must admit,” he practically purrs, “I’m positively spellbound by you.”
“You’re so full of it,” I sputter, but it comes out all husky and sexy-sounding.
“I’m infatuated,” he counters, voice raspy as he leans closer.
“Ahem.” A feminine throat clears behind us.
“To be continued,” he promises, removing his hand from my hip then stepping back and turning around.