Page 141 of Unlock My Heart

She whines, and I tell her, “Here you go, queen.”

I hold up the handheld mirror, and she huffs.

That gets a laugh out of me, because it is rather silly, this ferocious dog wearing a tiny peacock feather mask that I’ve capped with a handmade lace veiling. “It’s for Runway’s editor-in-chief’s lap dog.”

Cleary agitated, Lacey’s tail thuds the floor back and forth.

“Alright, alright. You’re not a lap dog, and this isn’t your sense of style.” I gently remove the strap and lift the mask. “But here’s hoping the editor likes my sense of humor.”

Jermaine sticks his head in my studio. “Need anything, Mrs. Calvani?”

“Yes, actually, I need this package overnighted to New York.” I place the mask gently inside the box on top of the lace chastity belt that I weaved with little penis designs, along with the handwritten note on the back of one of my new business cards.

I don’t design chastity belts, but I’ll make an exception for my favorite front row neighbor. The mask is, of course, designed especially for your dog.

~ Sienna

“Jermaine, I want you to deliver this package in person.” Fabien appears shirtless and sweaty from his morning workout, and I do a double-take. He’s had his fade touched up, looking especially fine after his haircut. If only I could blame the creep crawling up my neck due to ovulation, but old habits still have me tracking my cycle. I’m in the excuseless follicular phase.

Fabien gets on the phone, preparing the jet.

“That’s overkill,” I tell him when he ends the call.

“You worked damn hard on this, and I want to make sure it arrives safely.”

I have worked damn hard, nearly round the clock to get this finished so quickly, so I grumble my consent.

“Jermaine, you don’t have a problem being out of pocket for a bit?” Fabien asks my assistant.

“No, Mr. Calvani.”

“Then that’s settled. Let me shower, and then I’ll take you to class,” he tells me.

“Not necessary. My guards can take me,” I inform my husband.

“I’m taking you.” With that declaration, he saunters out of the room, and I’m ashamed to admit that I stared at his rock-hard ass the entire time.

Jermaine accepts the package and prepares for his impromptu NYC trip, and I lie on the floor, fanning myself.

Lacey plops her head down next to me. “What am I doing? Thirsting over a man who broke my heart. In other words, being a fool.”

A fool who let that man inside her not forty-eight hours ago.

Bare.

My cheeks flame.

Fabien was right: I remembered how good it felt. How good we felt. Still remembering, considering how sore I am from the brief encounter.

Ha, that’s what I’m calling it: an encounter. Cognitive dissonance at its finest. Because if the man can pry open my stubborn thighs, it’s only a matter of time before he pries his way into my heart, or what’s left of it.

My vision becomes spotty as I stare at the new crystal-and-gold, girlie-girl chandelier. “What do you think about the new light fixture?” I ask Lacey, distracting myself from the real reason for my spotty vision. “Agreed, it matches your bed perfectly. Come on.” I pull myself up and gather my things for class, but not before taking a “bathroom” break.

The phone’s right where I left it, but for the life of me, I can’t seem to force my finger to turn it on. My little secret—one of them, anyway—gets returned to its hiding spot, and I scowl at myself in the broken mirror.

God, I suck at this revenge thing.

I find Fabien outside, dressed in a crisp suit and leaning against his old sports car. “Surprised you were able to restore your precious baby to its former glory,” I taunt him, needing to regain my footing.