Chapter 26 #2
I try on eleven dresses. The designer’s assistant, who has been assigned to help us with our dress search, takes photos of me in each one, dancing around me to get every angle. I’ll choose the best ones later to post to my social media accounts.
That might be the only choice I get to make today.
Once I’ve tried on the last one and changed back into my street clothes, Cecily and I go over the options. Well, Cecily goes over the options. My favorite is still the first dress I tried on, but she’s made it clear that one is a non-starter, so it’s hard to feel invested in any of the others.
Eventually, she holds up the one that I hated the most: the pure white one with the stiff fabric and long train.
“This will do,” she says, with an air of mild satisfaction. “What do you think, dear?”
She lifts the dress to show it to me. Several responses bubble up on my tongue: that one was my least favorite. Were you even listening to me at all? Why does it have to be the most uncomfortable dress of the bunch?
But I keep my lips pursed and nod. It’s not worth the argument. I’m tired, fed up, and I just want to get out of here as quickly as possible.
On our way out of the building, I hear the now-familiar snap of a camera shutter coming from across the street. When I follow the sound, I can see a man crouched behind a car on the opposite curb, the lens of his camera focused on Cecily and I as we leave the boutique.
Perfect.
I turn to Cecily, unable to look her in the eye. “Well… thanks for your time. Reed said he’d send a car.”
She sniffs, looking down her nose at me. “Of course he did.” There’s a cold pause between us, then she turns on her heel and strides down the sidewalk. I stand there, watching her, until she climbs into a waiting limousine.
As soon as her car drives away, I let out a breath, and my formal mask slips off.
Reed’s driver takes me back to The Luxe, and on the drive, I lean against the window, watching the city slide by.
I thought that keeping a stiff upper lip was the way to get through this without losing my cool at Cecily, but I definitely feel worse in the aftermath. I keep replaying all the different times when I wish I’d put my foot down.
By the time the car pulls up outside of The Luxe’s glass doors, I want nothing more than to run inside, go to my room, and knit to take my mind off of the whole disastrous situation.
Unfortunately, my path is block as I approach the front doors.
By Martin Keller.
At first, he doesn’t seem to notice me. He’s still dressed in business casual attire, as if he just came from the office, but there’s a shadow across his jaw. He’s usually clean-shaven; he must have let his morning routine go a little. He looks disheveled, agitated.
I stop dead in my tracks, turning to look over my shoulder. I’m hoping the driver will still be there, and he’ll be able to come out and help me. No such luck—the car is already gone, cruising down the street.
And suddenly, Keller is in my face, close enough to almost touch me. He looks furious. It’s an expression I recognize well from my time working for him, but I never thought I would have to see it again.
“You,” he growls.
“What do you want?” I shrink away from him instinctively.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing, huh? Running off to some reporter.”
I blink, confused. “I was just defending myself. You were the one who—”
“Some reporter woman was at the office the other day, poking around. Asking all my employees what I’m like as a boss, because apparently, you told her a bunch of bullshit about me.” His scowl deepens, and he steps even closer to me, getting in my face.
I try to look him in the eye, but it’s difficult. All I want to do is step past him, but when I try, he blocks my path again. “I was just responding to what you said about me,” I protest.
“I’ve got lawyers,” he snarls. “I’ll sue your ass for defamation. You didn’t think I would, did you? But you better believe I will.”
“I didn’t tell any lies. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t—”
He raises his voice to a yell. “You went to a reporter and tried to ruin me!”
Before he can say anything else—and before I can respond—a hand closes around his upper arm.
I was so focused on Keller’s enraged rant that I didn’t even realize Reed was approaching. He pulls Keller away from me, anger darkening his face.
“That’s my fiancé you’re talking to,” he says, his voice dangerously low and measured, “so you’d better be careful what you say.”
Keller’s fury doesn’t fade. He rounds on Reed, who is at least a full head taller than him, and jabs an accusatory finger at his chest. “And you—this was your idea, wasn’t it? Taking her to some reporter to try and make me look like—”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Reed says coolly. “You don’t want to push this, believe me. If I wanted to, I could dedicate my life—and my considerable resources—to ruining your business for good.”
For a moment, Keller is silent as Reed’s threat dawns on him. His face begins to redden, and his fingers clench into shaking fists.
“You’re full of it,” he mutters.
“Am I?” Reed tilts his head. “Or are you a little dog picking a big fight? Trust me. I could make sure you end up with nothing.”
At that, Keller gapes, mouthing soundlessly.
“And I’ll happily do it,” Reed continues, “if you ever so much as speak to this woman again.”
There’s something dominant and powerful in Reed’s voice and his bearing, a cold certainty. It takes me aback. I’ve never seen him like this—usually, he’s flirty and casual and easygoing, all smiles and sly winks. His expression is flat right now, stern and forbidding.
I’ve always known that Reed was tall, too, but I don’t think I realized just how tall until this moment, when he towers over Keller.
“Get out of here,” Reed says, releasing Keller’s arm.
My former boss stares up at him, cowed. His eyes are wide. I can see his indignation still simmering beneath the surface, but he backs off nonetheless, lifting his hands.
“Fine,” he mutters, shooting me one last glare. He mumbles something else under his breath that I can’t hear, then steps away from us, slinking down the sidewalk.
“Are you okay?” Reed turns back to me. His hand comes to rest on my shoulder.
“I… I’m fine.” I shake my head, dazed. What was that? Did he just… chase Keller off? Just like that?
The adrenaline that surged through my body during my confrontation with Keller has begun to wear off, and my knees are shaky as Reed guides me into the building.
We go upstairs, and only once we’re out of the elevator do I find my voice.
“Thank you,” I say, my arms wrapped around my torso. I wander into the living room, picking up my knitting project from the couch. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did,” Reed replies, an undercurrent of ice still in his voice. “You’re my fiancé. No one speaks to my fiancé like that.”
“Yes, but—it’s not real.”
His brow furrows. “It’s real enough,” he says quietly.
My heart skips a beat. For a few seconds, I stare into his serious, fixed expression. The intensity in his eyes is alluring, but it’s also intimidating.
I can’t hold his gaze for long. After a moment, I brush past him to retreat down the hallway, slipping into my bedroom. I close the door behind myself, taking my knitting with me.