Chapter 11
“Iapologize for the dress issue,” Dimitri announced, walking over to lift the second cup of coffee she’d poured.
Giselle lifted an eyebrow, surprised at the shift in his tone. Dimitri De Luca did not seem like the type who apologized often, or ever. In fact, he looked mildly uncomfortable, like he’d rather be doing anything else than this.
She watched as he exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders back before taking another sip of his coffee. His jaw tensed for a moment before he continued.
“I wasn’t saying you needed new clothes,” he muttered, staring into the cup of coffee in his hands rather than at her. “You seemed self-conscious in your outfit yesterday and I have a good friend who designs clothes. I suspect that they will help you feel more comfortable in your new role.”
Giselle blinked, not expecting that answer.
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not used to explaining himself. “And I might have… presented it poorly.” He finally glanced at her, his expression guarded, like he wasn’t sure how this was going to go.
She stared back at him, letting the silence stretch.
This was a man who made decisions without hesitation. He gave orders, and people jumped to follow them. He wasn’t used to having to justify his actions or, heaven forbid, acknowledge that he had offended someone.
And yet, here he was, struggling to say the words. It was almost amusing. Almost.
Giselle shifted her weight, her fingers tightening around the coffee cup as she considered his words. “So, let me get this straight,” she began, keeping her voice even. “You weren’t trying to insult me?”
“No.” His answer was immediate, sharp, as if the idea genuinely annoyed him.
“But you think my clothes are hideous?”
Dimitri sighed, his head tilting back slightly before leveling her with a look. “That blue skirt is an atrocity, Giselle.”
Her lips twitched.
“I wasn’t trying to replace your wardrobe,” he went on, still looking slightly uncomfortable.
“I just thought you might appreciate something new.” His fingers drummed against his mug, and then, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he added, “And because you’re beautiful, and the way you dress doesn’t do you justice. ”
Giselle froze. He said that so matter-of-factly, as if it wasn’t a compliment, just a statement of fact. Heat crept up her neck, and she looked down at her coffee, unsure of how to respond.
“However, I could have handled it better,” he admitted, shifting his stance, as if he was ready to be done with this whole awkward moment.
“I don’t ever ask for permission, and I don’t explain myself.
But I can see how you might have—” He stopped, frowning slightly as if he didn’t quite know the right words.
Finally, he settled on, “Misunderstood my intentions.”
Giselle let out a slow breath, shaking her head. “That wasn’t exactly an apology.”
Dimitri scowled, then glanced away. “I don’t do apologies.”
Her lips twitched again as she fought to keep her expression neutral. “I noticed.”
He sighed, rubbing his beard, his irritation building as he stared off into the distance. A moment later, he turned, his eyes fixing on hers. “Fine. I’m sorry I threw the dress at you like a command.”
Giselle bit her lip, barely suppressing a smile. For a man who didn’t apologize, that was a very pretty apology.
“Well,” she said, tilting her head, “when you put it that way, how could I possibly stay mad?”
Dimitri smiled faintly, the tension easing slightly. “Good. Now, drink your coffee.”
She rolled her eyes but took a sip, feeling the warmth seep through her as she realized something. For all his arrogance, all his dominance, Dimitri De Luca was trying. And for some reason, that made her heart race even faster.
Furthermore, Giselle was so startled by both the way she’d stood up to him as well as the apology that she wasn’t sure what to say.
First, she’d never challenge anyone like that.
She was the person that conceded everything.
Need money? She’d transfer it. Need a ride?
She would adjust her schedule to help out.
This was definitely a first and it felt… empowering! She’d actually thrown the dress back at him!
And then, he’d apologized to her!
No one had ever apologized to her before.
Not once. Her parents had never acknowledged hurting her feelings, too wrapped up in their own selfish needs to consider that their actions had consequences.
And her brother—well, he was either too high or too focused on finding his next fix to notice anyone else’s emotions, let alone care about them.
She swallowed, blinking rapidly against the sudden sting in her eyes. She wasn’t a weepy person. She had always prided herself on being strong, independent, and always in control. So why did a few simple words make her feel like crying?
“Thank you for that,” she finally managed, forcing herself to steady her voice.
Dimitri nodded, accepting her gratitude with the same matter-of-fact confidence that he did everything else.
“The clothes are a gift,” he said, shifting the conversation away from the awkward moment.
“Not meant to cause offense. And in reality, you’d actually be doing a friend of mine a favor by wearing them.
She’s a designer working out of Las Vegas.
Her business is growing quickly, but exposure is everything.
If you wear her designs while working for me, there’s a good chance your picture will be captured by the paparazzi that constantly plague me.
” He tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction.
“Any chance you’d be willing to help out a female business owner by wearing her clothes? ”
Giselle glanced at the dress, now draped over the back of a leather chair. The fabric was rich but not flashy, the cut elegant yet simple. It wasn’t extravagant or over-the-top—it was the kind of dress a woman could wear to a business meeting and feel confident in.
She looked back at Dimitri, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “Another woman struggling to make it in the business world?”
He shrugged, and she immediately knew there was more to the story than he was letting on.
“She’s been in business for a while, and she’s doing well, but any extra exposure would only help her grow faster.”
Giselle narrowed her eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He grinned, the kind of arrogant, secretive smile that said he knew far more than he was going to share. “A lot.” Then, just as quickly, the smile disappeared, and he downed the rest of his coffee like it was nothing more than water. “But what I can tell you is that you’d be doing her a favor.”
Giselle’s breath caught. “I can’t accept something so expensive,” she protested, already shaking her head.
“It wouldn’t be a gift,” he countered smoothly. “You’ll be wearing the clothes while working for me.” His gaze flickered back to her gathered, ill-fitting skirt. “Why not encourage another woman’s business while you’re at it?”
She opened her mouth to argue but knew she was losing this battle.
“Fine,” she grumbled, reaching for the dress.
The moment her fingers brushed it, she knew she was doomed.
The fabric was soft, luxurious, and expertly tailored with a satin lining.
She couldn’t help but run her hand down the length of the fabric, already imagining how it would feel against her skin.
She turned to him, arching a brow. “You wanted to discuss my new role.”
Dimitri barely hesitated. “Why don’t you head into that bathroom over there and try on the dress? Just to see if it fits.” He nodded toward a stack of boxes. “If that one doesn’t work, then neither will the others and I’ll have Ava send a different size.”
Giselle hesitated, glancing between the dress and the man watching her with far too much amusement.
Something told her that putting this dress on was going to change a lot more than just her wardrobe.
Giselle eyed the stack of boxes warily, but the temptation to try on the dress was too strong to ignore. "Fine," she muttered, grabbing the dress and heading for the bathroom.
It took only seconds to slip it on, and the moment the fabric settled over her body, she knew.
The fit was perfect—hugging her shape just enough to be flattering but not tight, skimming her curves in a way that felt both professional and effortlessly elegant.
Unlike the oversized clothes she usually wore, this dress didn’t swallow her or make her look shapeless.
It was structured, sophisticated, and—most surprising of all—powerful.
She stared at her reflection, barely recognizing herself.
The high neckline and short sleeves gave it a modest, polished look, but there was something striking about it.
The deep crimson made her skin glow and the way it followed her form without clinging—it made her feel confident in a way she hadn’t expected.
Wow.
She had never felt this way in clothing before.
Tucking her hair behind her ears, she stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing her hands over her hips, appreciating how well the fabric moved with her.
She was too busy adjusting the fit, thinking about what she would do with her hair, and realizing she needed better shoes, to notice the way Dimitri had gone completely still.
"This is a really great dress!" she said, still caught up in the excitement of the moment. "Why haven’t I heard of this designer? The silhouette is so simple, but it’s absolutely perfect!"
She finally glanced up, only to find Dimitri watching her with a look that made her almost dizzy. His expression sent a sudden rush of heat up her neck, making her breath catch.
Maybe this dress was a little more powerful than she had thought.