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“No way, I want you to surprise me. You can even wear those red stilettos you keep mentioning.”
“You know, that first night you told me to wear them you said I looked hot. That’s why I keep bringing them up,” I said. “Now it seems like you don’t like them.”
“Imogen, you look hot in everything you put on, even that ridiculous sweat suit from earlier.” Asher shook his head and walked toward his room. “Good night.”
“One more question before we call it a night.” I stopped just before the hall to my room. “The hair. Do you like this red hair?”
Chapter 40
AUGUST
“The hair?” I questioned, confused. “I like the red hair. Why?”
“Because the hair is a wig. Actually, it’s a wig that Poppy’s niece told me to wear to sneak out of the hospital that day.”
“Oh my God, that’s it, that’s why I didn’t recognize you right away!” I said, excited. “Don’t you remember I had that big bouquet of flowers in the elevator and I gave you my card.”
I knew it was her, but it’s weird she doesn’t remember me.
“I remember you and the flowers. I lost your card when Gunner made me throw away my purse. I’m sorry. You we’re so nice to me and I wanted to thank you, but when I brought it up before, you didn’t remember me.”
“I didn’t remember you? When?” I doubted what she was saying.
“I figured you didn’t remember because you were drunk that first night when I saw you and brought it up,” She explained. “It’s not a big deal though. How would you know it was me with this wig on?” I removed the wig
“I don’t usually forget a face,” I said. “What a small world that we met like that, and now here we are.”
I walked back to where she stood holding the red wig. I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and touched a lock of blonde hair. Touching her hair was probably a bad idea.
“Yeah, here we are, all the way in Paris. You saved me twice now,” she said smiling.
“Maybe you’d rather not wear the wig. It’s okay with me if you don’t.” I smiled back at her.
“You won’t believe how this thing itches. It’s so much more comfortable without it,” she said, still smiling.
“Then don’t wear it. Just be comfortable.” My hands twitched to touch her hair again. Instead, I reached for the wig. “I do like this color on you though. It made your eyes stand out.”
“I like the color too. It makes me feel like a different person, like a girl that didn’t get beat up by her boyfriend.” She chewed on her lip
“That’s never going to happen again, I promise.” I said looking her right in the eyes.
There was an awkward pause while we both just stared at each other. She spoke first.
“You’ve solved all of my problems and now I want to solve yours.” She tried to cover a yawn.
“You better get some rest. The designers will be here at eleven am. Please pick whatever you want,” I said with a nod. “Good night.”
“Sweet dreams, Asher,” she said, then turned into her room.
I found myself still standing at my door minutes after she had already walked away.
Oh no, this girl is getting to me. How am I going to do this?
* * *
Morning came all at oncewith my cell going off seconds before the alarm clock. I threw the covers off and stomped to the bathroom. I could feel myself being annoyed. I’d always been a morning person, but I’d barely slept. I tossed and turned and even paced. Imogen paces constantly, so I thought why not try it. Somewhere in the night I came to the realization that I liked Imogen, a lot. We got along like we’d known each other for years instead of days. I ran through so many scenarios during the night and nothing conclusive came to me. This girl was bought to marry Asher. I skimmed through the twenty plus text messages to make sure Halima had set up the appointment for the designers to come in, as well as set up a hairdresser appointment in the hotel salon.
Maybe I should have asked if she even wants a hair appointment? All girls like hair appointments. Don’t they? Or is that nail appointments?
