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“I have laundry and house stuff,” he corrected. “You, my darling, have a day of other people catering to your needs. Don’t worry, I’ll take up my shift tonight.” He winked.
She set the gown back in its box and placed it in her walk-in closet. She returned, and as gently as she could, jumped into his arms. Ivan caught her and rubbed his hands up and down her back.
“Are you happy?”
“Ecstatic,” she confirmed. “But you didn’t have to do all this just because we had a fight.”
“I have a confession. All this was planned prior to the battle.” His fingers traced the outline of her lower lip. “Do you love me?”
Her eyes lit up with happiness. “Yes, Ivan Mangum. I love you.”
Ivan allowed his happiness to shine through, too. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
They kissed, and then she moved off to the side of him. She laid her head on his chest. His heartbeat was loud and steady.
“I love you, too, Tiffany.”
She listened to his declaration through his chest. She raised her head. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Tiffany Gentry. The time away from you has been torture for me. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell you how much I loved you. I want to make sure that I never let you forget just how much.”
“Thank you, Ivan. This has been the best night I’ve ever had.”
Ivan kissed her soundly. “For both of us, love.”
*
It didn’t take Tiffany long to realize that Ivan had spared no expense in making their evening memorable. He dropped her off at the spa before promising to pick her up later so she could go home and change for dinner.
The only word that came to mind as her day stretched out before her was decadence. Her relaxation level increased with each service she received. By the end of the day, Tiffany felt like royalty. Ivan sent a text to head out front. She thanked the staff and slowly walked outside.
There was a stretch limousine at the curb and a man holding up a printed sign with her name. Tiffany smiled and shook her head. Ivan.
“I’m Miss Gentry.”
“Hello, madam. My name is Smithers, and I will be your driver for this evening.”
He was British. Tiffany shook his hand. “Hello, Mr. Smithers.”
The driver assisted her inside. She discovered a bottle of chilled champagne that had just been opened, a bowl of fresh strawberries and a single red rose standing regally in a vase next to the ice bucket. She lowered a strawberry into the bubbly and took a sip. Tiffany settled in for the drive to her home, but instead they headed to Lake Shore Drive, and then back through the city. The car pulled to a stop. She peeked out the window. Her mouth gaped open.
Smithers opened her door and escorted her onto the sidewalk, handing her bags to a waiting porter. “Welcome to the Trump International Hotel and Tower, Miss Gentry.” He handed her an envelope. “I’ll see you shortly.”
Tiffany opened the envelope and retrieved a card. “See you at eight, love I.” Her pulse raced with excitement.
She checked in at the front desk and was escorted upstairs. From the moment Tiffany stepped over the threshold of her room, she was in the lap of luxury. Ivan had reserved a one-bedroom suite with a scenic view of the river. It was eleven hundred square feet of pure indulgence. A large flat-panel television sat on a low table. There was a fireplace, a plush couch and chair with an ottoman, a kitchenette with granite countertops, stainless-steel appliances and a dining table and chairs.
She moved to the bedroom. A king-size bed sat regally in the middle of the room with a floor-to-ceiling wood headboar
d. The furnishings were muted colors in gray, taupe and white. The view of the city was stunning. The en-suite bathroom was like a personal spa with rich neutral tiles, a chocolate wood table with glass sink bowls, fluffy white towels and thick terry-cloth bathrobes.
“Unbelievable.” Before she could say another word, a light knock sounded at her door.
She went to open it. Two women with carry-on bags greeted her.
“May I help you?”
