Meanwhile, I know he won’t truly change his spots. He’ll always be up to something—it’s the nature of this man.This man I love.But I know I’m no angel either.
“I forgot to ask you.” I turn to him in the vein of someone just remembering something. “Did you bring your passport?”
“What for?”
“Well, this is unfamiliar territory.”
“Dalston or the fact that you’re in charge?”
“Oh, I’m always in charge. I’m the girl behind the curtain.”
“Pulling strings? That sounds frighteningly familiar.”
“Does our intrepid traveler have his passport as he sets out on his quest to explore the deepest, darkest corners of East London?”
Oliver spikes a brow at my deep-toned nature-documentary-style narration.
“Oh, come on! When was the last time you ventured farther than Shoreditch?”
“Sometimes I forget you think you’re hilarious,” he says, turning to the window as the Bentley stops at a red light. He eyes the pub on the corner, baskets of brightly colored begonias teeming from it.
“But then I remind you.”
His chest expands in preparation for a deep sigh. “Yes. Yes, you do.” But he can’tquitehide his smile. “I have a creeping suspicion this has something to do with my outfit for Mandy’s ball.”
“Perceptive.” It is only a few days away.
“Perceptive enough to know you’re going in the wrong direction. My tailor is nowhere near here.” His gaze slides doubtfully to the window again.
“Here’s the thing. We’re not going to your tailor.”
“Shock.”
“I thought you’d feel like that about it.” I almost wiggle in my seat, excitement bouncing around my insides like bubbles in a pop bottle. “But fair is fair. I so dutifully wore the dress you chose for me.” I slide my hand over my thighs, straightening a rumple in my skirt.
“Frankly, I thought you’d forgotten about it.”
“Hoped, you mean.”
“I distinctly remember you agreed to speak to my tailor.”
“So fussy. Relax! I have everything in hand.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you might think.”
“I called in to your tailor,” I say, patting his thigh.Yum.“I picked up your measurements.”
“For something off the rack?” he says, as though holding it at arm’s length between a pinched finger and thumb.
“Don’t make me spoil this surprise.” I give a slow, disappointed shake of my head.
“The surprise in Dalston,” he deadpans.
“I think you’ll love it.”I know I will.
I’ve put a lot of thought into this afternoon. Undertaken a lot of research, and as the car slows to a halt at the address I’ve given Ted, I turn to take in the full effect on Oliver’s face.
“A charity shop?” His expression is as dark as thunder.
