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“You could just send it by courier to my place since it’s not until tomorrow night.”
“I could,” he said, voice low in that way that gave me goosebumps from head to toe. “But then I wouldn’t get to see you put it on, would I?”
I felt myself color brightly. “I’m afraid if you saw that, we might be late to the opera and I’ll never actually get the dress on.”
“Oh sweetheart,” he crooned admonishingly. “I’m very good at staying on task.”
I looked all around me with wide eyes, as if I could download the surroundings like some sort of digital map and never forget a single detail.
I had no idea an opera house could be so beautiful. Sure, I’d seen some pictures online and I had daydreamed as a young child, but the opulence that surrounded me was purely mind-boggling.
“You alright?”
I blinked hazily at Fitz, trying to bring my mind back to center. He looked good too, all crisp and handsome in a suit that probably cost the same as my year’s salary.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, taking his arm and clinging to it like a lifeline. “Maybe just a little overwhelmed.”
“Why?” he asked as we walked across the magnificent lobby and it’s lush, cobalt carpet. At least he sounded amused and not judgmental, like seeing me so slack-jawed was the gold star on top of his little gift.
I gestured around us. “How could I not be with all this?”
He shrugged, and I felt his eyes on me. “I guess, compared to you, there isn’t much to catch my attention.”
I flushed from tip to toes at that. “You charmer,” I accused, ducking my head into his arm to cover my vibrant blushing.
“Just telling the truth. If I knew the dress was going to look that brilliant on you, I might have bought more in other colors.”
I pursed my lips at that, not sure what to say. He was right, the dress did look amazing on me. It’s was somewhere between heather gray and lilac, caressing the curves of my body like a whisper of spun silk. It had long, dangling cape-sleeves from each shoulder that made me feel like a goddess, and a generous amount of cleavage. I remembered seeing something similar on a red-carpet review once, and I almost wondered if it was the same dress, just bigger.
No. People who made dresses for celebrities never made plus size wear. It was ‘beneath’ them, or whatever. Maybe it was custom made?
That thought made me flush further and I pushed it from my mind as Fitz led us to our box seats.
And oh boy if that wasn’t the fanciest shit.
Sitting there in the oh-so-comfortable chair, our box curtained on either side, a small table there with champagne in a bucket of ice and two flutes, I couldn’t help but compare it to most of what I’d experienced growing up.
Second hand shoes bought at the thrift shop. PB and J sandwiches because I was on the school lunch program. Sweaters with holes in them because they were comfy and I’d rather my foster parents take a bit out of our clothing budget to spend a little extra towards a digital tablet for my birthday.
The third couple I had been with had tried real hard to provide for me as best they could while I waited for a forever family. I was never hungry with them and I was always clothed. I didn’t have to worry about the father or brother trying to cop a feel like my first family, or the mother tearing into me over each and everything she could like with my second family.
But even with that loving couple, the Pruetts, doing everything they could, they never could have dreamed of getting me a dress like the one I was wearing and taking me to a non-charity opera.
No, I owed all of these experiences to Fitz, and I had no idea what I could do in turn for him.
“Hey, you sure you’re alright?”
I hadn’t realized that I had closed my eyes and I opened them to see Fitz eying me with concern. I managed a little nod then breathed in deeply though my nose to dry out the tears that I felt trying to well up.
Geeze, when had I gotten so sappy?
“Just happy,” I murmured.
He looked like he was going to say something, a great expanse of emotions flashing across his face, but then the lights were dimming, and someone came onstage to speak what I guessed was an introduction.
But I didn’t want to be alone in the moment. Or at least not physically, so I slid my hands into his, my smaller fingers curling into his larger ones. We hadn’t ever really held hands and it felt surprisingly intimate. I flicked a glance towards his face to see him staring at our touching palms with a look I couldn’t decipher, but then he settled and turned back to the show.
