25. Cloak and Dagger
TWENTY-FIVE
CLOAK AND DAGGER
ISABELLA
Have I ever mentioned how useful it is to have a Hollywood actress for a best friend?
Because it really feels like something I’ve neglected to mention.
Typically, I’d be a chaotic ball of stress trying to get myself glam enough for a big-time Hollywood charity gala.
Having to do my hair and makeup? Pick out the right dress and accessories?
No. Absolutely not. I’d rather stay at home in my pjs eating ice cream on my couch avoiding that kind of stress.
But having Liz in my back pocket has made this the most stress-free experience of my life.
A few simple calls from her and I had the whole wardrobe sorted, hair and makeup who showed up to the apartment first thing this morning to work their magic.
I didn’t have to lift a finger. Ryan even sent over coffee, so I didn’t have to worry about that either.
I never try to take advantage of Liz for her fame and the perks it has to offer, but times like these have me reconsidering if maybe I should let her spoil me every now and then.
My phone buzzes on the table beside me as I finish slipping on my heels, letting me know Ryan’s downstairs with the car. Right on time.
“Jordan! I’m leaving!” I call to her as I walk through the living room toward the front door.
“Have a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she shouts back through her closed bedroom door, most likely locked in on her latest reality show guilty pleasure.
I roll my eyes as I grab my clutch on the way out the door.
When I get downstairs, Ryan is standing outside of the limo, waiting with the door open.
The look on his face almost makes me wish I could turn around and do it again but record his reaction.
His eyes are nearly bugging out of his head, jaw slack.
He looks like every woman’s wet dream in his suit.
He’s shaved down his stubble so it’s the lightest dusting over his jaw, hair tousled in that imperfectly perfect way.
He’s picked out a classic black suit that looks like it was specially tailored to fit his muscular body.
My mouth waters at the thought of stripping him out of it.
“Isa. Holy, wow. You look incredible,” he stumbles out.
I chuckle and give a quick little turn. “Really? You think it’s alright?”
I’ve got to hand it to them, Liz’s contacts really pulled through on the dress.
The satin fabric is one of the softest things I’ve ever felt.
It’s a crimson red that works wonders with my dark hair and olive complexion.
The bodice is fitted, and the square neckline accentuates my breasts to give the illusion of cleavage, where truthfully, there’s not much.
But it’s the skirt that really sold me. It’s floor length with enough material to make it look like a full skirt, but there’s secretly a thigh high slit in the side so I can show off my legs.
The stylist finished the look off with an assortment of gold accessories and a pair of gold strappy heels.
It makes me wish I had more places I could wear something this fancy so I could wear this dress forever.
Once I finish my spin and face Ryan again, I shoot him a wide smile when I see his dumbstruck look.
“Yeah, I’d say it’s more than alright.” He lifts a hand and scrubs it across his jaw.
“Fuck. I haven’t seen you in a week and a half and we’re about to head to a gala surrounded by our colleagues where no one’s allowed to know what’s happening between us.
Now I’m worried they’ll figure it out the second you walk through those doors, and I can’t take my eyes off you.
Because let me tell you right now, I don’t see a world where my eyes won’t be on you all night.
Especially not when you look like that.”
I shove at his shoulder playfully as my cheeks heat. “Alright Shakespeare. We’ve gotta go before we’re late.”
Once we’re both settled into the limo, Ryan turns to me, his hand in mine. “You do look absolutely incredible. Breathtaking. I can’t believe you’re mine.” He shakes his head with a disbelieving laugh and traces his thumb over the back of my hand.
“Who said I was yours?” I ask with a smirk.
“Oh, so you want to play that game tonight, do you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know.” I lean back in my seat, crossing one leg over the other, flashing tan skin. “I figured mine would entail labels and such. We’re still seeing how things go, right?”
In a flash, he crowds me up against the door.
“You want a label, firecracker? I’ll give you any label you want.
Just say the word. Girlfriend? It’s been yours.
Wife? That can be yours too.” He leans in close to brush his lips against my ear.
“They’re all yours.” I suddenly can’t remember how to breathe and it’s entirely too warm in this car.
He pulls back enough to allow some cool air to rush in and bring my soaring body temperature back down.
A hand lifts and he lightly brushes one of the stray waves behind my ear with a smile that says a million things I don’t want to read into yet.
“But take all the time you need. They’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.
” Without another word, he plants a soft kiss onto the corner of my lips, avoiding the matching crimson lipstick and returning to his side of the backseat.
By the time we pull up outside of the hotel that’s acting as the backdrop for tonight’s event, I’ve only barely gotten myself back under control.
“I’ll get out first and the car will do a loop and then you’ll hop out after, okay?” Ryan explains as he straightens out the lapels on his jacket. I lean forward and straighten out his tie for him and give him one more once over before I’m satisfied he looks presentable.
“Yep, all part of the plan. See you on the flip side,” I say with a mock salute as I wedge myself into my corner as much as possible to avoid being spotted by the paparazzi on the red carpet as he exits the car. Because of course there’s a whole red carpet photo op.
Once the car door slams shut behind him and we begin to roll forward for our loop, I let myself relax back into the seat.
Liz and Jackson had offered to let me ride with them in their limo which would’ve meant Ryan and I could’ve avoided this whole cloak-and-dagger affair we’re playing with the car, but Ryan wanted the opportunity to see me before we were at an event surrounded by our colleagues and unable to act on the fact that we’re in a relationship.
And to be honest, so did I. Getting the chance to see his full unfiltered reaction to my dress was worth the extra hoops we’re jumping through now.
It’s not long before we’ve completed our loop and I’m exiting the car, making my own walk down the carpet. I’m stopped far less times than I expect Ryan was, yet I don’t see him anywhere near the entrance. Who I do spot, however, is my best friend and her boyfriend.
Even in her heels, Jackson still towers over Liz, looking at each other with overflowing affection.
Liz has her blonde hair slicked back into a low bun, highlighting the strapless baby blue gown she picked out for the evening, which just so happens to match the tie around Jackson’s neck.
He has her hugged close to his side as he leans over to whisper in her ear, her cheeks turning pink at words I’m not so sure I want to know.
Where Liz is soft and petite, Jackson is her tall, dark, and handsome opposite.
A giant with rough edges. Hidden beneath his suit are the defined muscles from his last superhero flick that put Ryan’s to shame.
With bronze skin and deep black hair, he’s a perfect contrast for Liz’s lighter features.
His dark hair has been meticulously styled, only one stray strand that falls over his forehead like he’s trying to emanate Superman.
The thought has me stifling a laugh in the same moment that Liz catches my eye at the end of the carpet.
“Isa! You made it,” Liz cheers, trying to untangle herself from Jackson’s grip to get to me.
“Yes, yes I made it.” I laugh as I embrace her. “Hi Jackson,” I say over her shoulder to the now grumpy looking movie star.
“Hey Isa,” he grumbles with faint traces of his accent. “He’s inside.”
“Thanks.” I give him a warm smile as I pull out of Liz’s arms. “Did he make a fool out of himself to say hello?”
This seems to cheer Jackson up somewhat. “Not yet. He didn’t see us.”
“Hard to believe that, but okay. Well, I apologize in advance for his behavior. I truly have no idea what to expect. This man has been playing in LA for years now and yet I don’t think he’ll be able to keep his cool around you.”
Jackson’s chest puffs a bit at the comment, and he brushes off an invisible piece of lint from the front of his jacket. “Good to know he’s a man of taste.”
Liz smacks his shoulder. “God, Jacks. Shut up!” His macho man fa?ade drops in an instant and he looks adequately scolded while his features soften under her attention.
“Sorry, Lizzie baby,” he purrs.
I roll my eyes. “Right, well I should go…” I trail off, throwing my thumb over my shoulder, hoping I can escape being the third wheel in whatever this is about to turn into.
“Wait!” Liz screeches, halting my escape. “We need photographic evidence first! It’s not every night I get my little baby Isa out on the town in Hollywood glam.” She grips my wrist and tugs me behind her back in the direction of the carpet and the dozens of flashing lights from the photographers.
“Nooooo. Liz, I’m going to look like a potato next to you,” I argue, attempting to dig my feet in to avoid it.
“Too bad. You’re doing it.” She gives one firm yank, and I stumble into her side where she’s stopped on a photo marker. “And you don’t look like a potato. You look like a damn bombshell. Now, chin up and smile.”