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“I have to work tomorrow and Saturday morning, I don’t have time.” I say slightly exacerbated. I can’t imagine shopping with him, it would cost me a month’s worth of tips to afford anything he would suggest.
“I’m sure you have something at home,” he says trying to reassure me. “Although, it is a black tie affair.” Crap, I have nothing. Even if I had time to shop, I don’t have the extra cash.
“No, I don’t think so.”
He regards me for a moment, his eyes speculative. “We’ll work something out. I’ll have a car pick you up at your house around six.” He sounds definitive.
“You know where I live?” I ask.
“No, I was hoping to get your address.”
I think about it for a moment, contemplating my decision. He makes an adorable sad puppy dog face. I can’t say no to that face, so I cave and write it down on a piece of paper. Maybe Brenda has a dress I can borrow.
As I hand him my address he grabs my hand. Bringing it up to his lips, he lingers for a second then kisses the back side. His touch wakes every nerve ending in my body. His deep blue eyes locking with mine, I feel as if he’s looking into my soul. Just that one smoldering hot look gives my libido a wakeup call.
Releasing his hand, I shake my head to get my thoughts out of the gutter and get back to work.
As I continue to clean the bar, getting ready to close for the evening, he sits and quietly sips on his thirty-year-old scotch. I wouldn’t have pictured him as a scotch drinker, but I don’t know him well. I weigh the options of going with him in my head. I won’t fit in at a black tie affair, that’s for sure. I will definitely feel intimidated. On the other hand, I’ll be spending time with Chase. Seeing him here has me feeling emotions I didn’t even know I had.
Chase rises and leans over the bar. “I will see you on Saturday,” he murmurs, his eyes warm and soft. He nips my earlobe then turns on his heel and leaves. Christ, I am like a giant bowl of jelly. If he gets me alone, I will say yes to anything he asks.
I walk around the other side of the bar to fix the stools and wipe down the bar top. It is then that I realize that he left not one, but two hundred dollar bills under his glass. His drink was only fifteen dollars. Damn him! I turn to see if I can catch him in the parking lot, but he is long gone. Sneaky bastard. I wonder if this is his way of funding my way to his father’s party. I wonder what his reaction will be when I give him the money back.
I get home from work on Friday to find a large package in my bedroom. My mom must have left it there for me. I haven’t ordered anything, and I don’t think my mom ordered anything either. She is nowhere to be found for me to ask her. I read the return address on the label. It’s from Bergdorf Goodman in Manhattan. Oh crap.
I carefully open the box to find a long black evening gown. I look at the label. Good fucking Lord! It’s a Michael Kors dress. I’m sure it must have cost a fortune. It has an asymmetrical neckline and gathered bodice. It feels soft since it’s made of black jersey. I look at the size. How did he know my size?
Underneath the dress is a pair of black patent leather Jimmy Choo open toe sandals that wrap around the ankle with curvaceous straps. The heel is at least three inches. How did he know my shoe size? I flop down on the bed in shock. I guess I don’t need to borrow a dress from Brenda after all.
This is just over the top. He couldn’t get me a plain black dress or a normal pair of heels. No. He had to go all out and buy one of the most expensive dresses in the store. Chase is totally out of his bird.
I hold the dress up to myself in front of my full length mirror. It’s gorgeous. I decide to try it on for shits and giggles. I put the shoes on first, then I slip the dress on and manage to zipper the back. Perfection. I feel like a movie star about to walk the red carpet. I am tempted to go on the internet and see how much all this extravagance costs, but I really don’t want to know.
Chase must really want me to go to this party with him. Why else would he spend the time to pick out the outfit and send the box to me? Not accepting the gifts would be rude, right? My brain is saying don’t do it, you’ll get hurt. My libido has other ideas. I take off the shoes and hang the dress in the closet. I thank my lucky stars that I have the undergarments to wear since I don’t have time to shop. Hopefully, Chase will get to see them.
I rush home from work on Saturday so I can take a shower and do my hair. The restaurant was slow today, and I left early. I run into the house and jump into the shower to start to primp.
Once out of the shower, I take a long look in the mirror. My hair is so curly it’s hard to do anything with it. I decide to straighten it. I grab the blow dryer and start to run my large round brush through my long hair. It takes almost an hour to straighten it, but today I manage in forty-five minutes. I look at the clock. It’s almost five thirty so I have half an hour before Chase is picking me up.
I pick out a sexy balconet bra from Victoria’s Secret with a matching pair of panties. Since the dress has a slit on the right side, I choose to wear thigh highs and need to fish out the matching lace garter belt.
I dress and walk over to my full-length mirror. The slim fitted silhouette of the dress eases past my hips and shows off my curves. The gown is spectacular. My hair falls in soft waves down my back and my shoulders. I consider putting it up, but since I rarely wear it down, decide against it. Makeup is minimal since I don’t wear much, so I keep it light. Eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, and lip gloss.
Walking downstairs in these capacious heels is dicey. I feel an entire foot taller. I could get a nosebleed up here. I walk into the kitchen to find my mother staring open mouthed at me.
“Wow,” she exclaims. “You look fantastic.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Where did you get that dress? And those shoes? My goodness, look how tall you are.”
“I was invited to a dinner party and was gifted these,” I say.
“Who invited you?” She is suspicious.
“His name is Chase Remington, and this is a date.”
“A date! You just broke up with Evan, and you’re already going out on a date?” Her voice is raised. I’m thankful I don’t have time for the inquisition. She’s about to say something else when the doorbell rings. She goes to answer the door and leaves me standing in the kitchen.
