10. Henri
Chapter 10
Henri
“Cade?” I say for the fourth time, calling up the stairs of the rental house. “We’re almost late.”
I check the time on my phone again. We really need to leave within the next five minutes to get everyone where they need to be and only be ‘casually’ late.
Thalia giggles from the bedroom.
Their door is open, so I hope they’re being a little modest. With Cade’s cousins, Ezra and Dinah, here, I would think that’d be a deterrent.
“Time is a social construct. They’ll wait,” Thalia shouts.
Ezra snorts from the couch. “A human social construct. No wolf in their right mind would have ever tied us to a schedule. It’s not like wolves could even wear watches.”
“But what if we could?” Deacon smiles as he ties his hunter-green tie.
The earth-tone suit complements his laid-back nature and matches the New Year’s Eve party I reserved for him of the options from the Aldens’ invite list.
“Besides, if we’re supposed to lean into this ‘I’m the King’ nonsense, then I might as well get to set the time of our arrivals.” Cade smiles with Thalia on his arm as they come down the hallway toward us.
Dinah yawns. “I’m really glad you rented a house in town. Good idea, Henri.”
“It just made the most sense given the forecast.” I smile, taking credit for this, per her advice, from the phone call when she advised me that driving home from New Year’s Eve events in sixteen inches of snow overnight was ‘not the vibe.’ Instead, she thought renting a house best suited the plan.
Snow is already falling, and we’re expecting sixteen inches overnight. I have a feeling this has to do with her gift of future sight, but I’m not in the business of asking. It’s common knowledge, even among non-Ardelean packs, that you do not ask an Ardelean about their gift.
I look around the room at the Ardeleans. “Alright, your drivers all have the addresses of where you’re going, and you were provided a list of who is who in your emails.”
“Yes,” Dinah sighs, standing up from the sofa.
The floor-length red dress with a high slit in the side elongates her legs further and makes her look like a model.
“You’re not dressed though.” Deacon cocks his head at me.
I look down at the pants and sweater I opted to wear. It’s formal and appropriate for the event I’m accompanying him to in the official capacity as pack publicist.
“Yeah, Henri.” Ezra scoffs in a mocking tone. “Holding everyone up.”
“This is what I was going to wear?” I look between Deacon and his counterpart in the Cousins Grimm.
I couldn’t say where or when the title originated, but pretty much every sighting of them posted on social media is accompanied by that hashtag. There’s even a Cousins Grimm group dedicated to them. From my cursory search, it’s because they both mostly wear black, give off bad-boy vibes, and it’s a play on the original dark version of the classic fairytales. I’m not quite sure I get it, but I don’t need to. It’s that sort of attention I’m trying to squash. Making Deacon an upstanding citizen is the first and only goal I’ve truly set for the next six months.
“Mmmm, no.” Dinah shakes her head and offers her hand out to me.
“This is the fanciest clothing I brought,” I argue. “I don’t have time to change, we’re going to be late.”
Dinah sighs. “Social construct, they’ll wait.”
The ‘social construct’ and ‘they’ll wait’ are becoming more and more of a theme. One I’d rather they not all embrace.
“We’ll go. It’ll make you feel better knowing the governor and senators are covered.” Thalia shoos me with her hand toward Dinah.
Apprehensively, I let Dinah take my hand, and she leads me back to the smallest bedroom in the house that I kept for myself. Hanging up in the closet is a garment bag.
After opening it, Dinah pulls the gown out and hands it to me. “It’ll fit.”
“How do you know my measurements?” I ask, holding the velvet material in my hand. It’s so soft.
“Really?” Dinah rolls her eyes. “I know everything, comes with the gift.”
I take the dress and move to step around her to the bathroom in the hallway to change.
“Henri,” Dinah says, “you don’t have to change in the...” She stops herself. “Deacon can help you with the zipper. We’ll go and get the University Gala and media taken care of.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her and then look at the dress. “For everything. I guess.”
Dinah makes her way back down the hallway, and I tuck myself into the bathroom. There isn’t a price tag on this dress, but the velvet damask fabric and designer label in the back say it all. This dress costs more than my monthly salary.
It’s not worth arguing about. Dinah won’t ever return it, and I’m sure she probably even had it tailored to fit me. But her reputation online is high fashion and elegance, so it’s not super surprising the floor-length gown is here and waiting.
Changing into the dress feels so foreign. I don’t wear dresses a lot because Nathan doesn’t think they’re modest enough or professional enough looking. If I want to be taken seriously by men, I need to dress like them. This dress with a sweetheart neckline and capped sleeves is feminine and soft. Dressing up like this is kind of fun... and it’s only for a night.
I open the door to the bathroom and jump. Deacon’s standing there, leaning against the wall, hands in his pants pockets.
“I heard you needed a zip up.” He smiles.
“Please.” I turn and show him the open back of the dress.
His fingers skate up the inside as he protects my body from the sliding metal. It’s the smallest touch, and I shiver.
“Mmm,” Deacon says, letting go. “Let me see?”
I turn around for him and note his goofy smile. “Good enough?”
“Almost.” Deacon pulls a jewelry box out of his coat pocket and hands it to me. “Now, don’t go reading too far into it, it’s not asking for an intention on you, I’m trying to respect your ab–” He swallows a growl and then continues. “Relationship with Nathan, but after I picked out the dress, Dinah said the gown would look better worn with a necklace.”
“Oh.” My heart rate picks up. He picked it out? The dress and the necklace?
My wolf perks her ears forward. He bought us jewelry. A collar to show he wants us.
It’s not a collar. He’s not collaring us. This isn’t an engagement. He isn’t asking for an intention. We’re not going on a date. This is a social event for work. I’m not supposed to stand out. I remind her and myself as I open the box. There’s a necklace comprised of a double golden chain of diamonds.
“Whooo.” I draw a short breath. “Please tell me these are fake.”
“I think you and I both know they’re not fake.” He does not do as I ask. “Nor are they zirconia, nor are they lab grown.”
“Deacon, this has to be a few grand of diamonds,” I argue.
He lifts the box from my hand and starts removing the necklace from where it sits. “And?”
“And? I can’t wear a diamond necklace that costs more than my car.” I try to object, but he puts the box in the crook of his arm and tilts his head down, giving me an authoritarian look.
Under his gaze, my wolf takes a step back, bowing down to the subtle air of authority.
I turn for him, and he loops the necklace around my neck. He clasps it, and I feel his breath against the top of my head.
“It costs more than my bike, and before you object and say that it’s too much, consider it part of your new wardrobe for work. If you and I must go to these events, you need appropriate work attire. It’s like a really fancy uniform.”
The evidence that Deacon knows nothing about uniforms is all here in front of me, but I don’t push the issue. He steps away, and I follow him down the hallway to the living room. There’s a mirror by the door, and I get a glimpse of myself.
I do look pretty.
“Which one?” I turn to look at Deacon.
He’s looking at his phone.
“Hmm?” Deacon looks back up at me, pocketing his phone .
“Which of your bikes does this cost more than?” My fingers touch where the necklace rests on my collarbone.
“Does it matter, Henri?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Well, I mean, the one that’s pretty much pieces on your workstation is probably not very expensive.” The more words I speak, the more amusing Deacon seems to think I am because a smile creeps across his face.
“I’m super wrong because apparently, the pieces are more expensive, so let’s go before we’re any later than we already are.” My face heats, and my fingers go absently to the collar— no— the necklace he draped around my neck.
He gets a look in his eye, and then he licks his lips before clearing his throat and offering his arm out to me. “Let’s go. My social media manager will be pissed if I’m late, and the pack publicist will slaughter me if I miss the opportunity to schmooze with the commissioner for the DNR.”
I’m self-conscious. Should I take it off?
With his arm around my shoulder, Deacon leads me outdoors. These little possessive gestures, even if it’s only a few quick steps across the threshold, are screwing with my feelings.
Boyfriend, Henri. Boyfriend. I urge myself to let it go.
But he feels so right. My wolf pushes. Come off the suppressants. Let’s see to be sure.
Those thoughts are much easier for me to quell. My first heat was hell, and never ever again.