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“An hour?” I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the time. “But, that’ll be noon. I thought the event didn’t start until seven tonight?”
“It does. But it takes a while to get there, and we don’t want to be late.”
With a pang of regret, I glanced at the sketchbook lying open on my desk. The gown was so inspiring, all I wanted to do was sit down and create and dream of fashioning something even half as beautiful and transformative as this one.
But I suppose it would have to wait, and I couldn’t even be mad about it. After all, he bought me Valentino. So I smiled and said, “Okay. I’ll be ready.”
Chapter 17
SCARLETT
IsighedasIglanced at the clock on the mantle. It was twelve-ten, which meant he was late.
What had kept him? And why all the secrecy?
He’d made such a big deal about tonight, further evidenced by the gown I wore; I would’ve thought he’d be on time.
I glanced down at the dress, wondering where we could possibly go that required such expensive attire. Obviously, it was a formal event, later this evening that he’d said was far away.
Once again, the Addy Awards popped in my head. Could it be?
Nah, I pushed the thought away as quickly as it came. No way would my parents approve of me heading to California with Thorne alone, and I knew for a fact they were working at the bakery this afternoon. Besides, when I asked Thorne if he’d be attending the award show geared toward teen film, he said he felt it was better to stay with me in Virginia, so he could focus on our newfound image as a couple.
The doorbell rang, breaking through my thoughts and sending my pulse skyrocketing through my chest. Wherever we were headed, I was about to find out.
I hurried through the living room, into the foyer, and toward the front door. The framed photos on the wall blurred as I passed by them and my nerves mounted with each click of my heels.
The cool metal of the doorknob soothed my sweat-damp palms the moment before I swung the front door open to a tuxedo-clad Thorne.
And holy Toledo, I was in trouble.
I focused on the breath rasping in and out of my lungs as my gaze drank him in. Black tux, black shirt, and tie. Black shoes, black watch, black shades covering his eyes, with his dark hair as inky black as an oil slick. He was nothing but darkness, trouble incarnate.
I cleared my throat in an effort to maintain my composure while I stepped outside and turned back to the door so I could lock it. Mostly to buy a couple seconds before I had to speak as my insides were currently performing Cirque Du Soleil.
When the key clicked in the lock, I gave myself a pat on the back. That I had any functioning brain cells at all was simply miraculous. And when I pivoted back toward him, he moved right in front of me. So close I could smell the heady scent of his cologne drawing me.
He flashed me a crooked grin and removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes so green they could be their own crayon shade. They raked over me so slowly it took me a moment to gain my barring, but once I did, I remembered why he was standing there. That this was just a ruse, a publicity stunt, and a way to save Batter and Bake. Nothing more. With that in mind, I shoved my hormones aside and pushed my shoulders back while I lifted my chin to meet his eyes. I refused to be another one of his starry-eyed fans.
“You’re late,” I snapped.
“And you’re gorgeous.” His grin turned devilish as the words heated my cheeks.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”Liar.It would get him a one-way pass to my heart, which was exactly why I had to keep him at arm’s length.
I shoved past him toward the car, acting more confident than I felt. But when he didn’t follow, I glanced behind me, a question in my eyes as I waited for him to follow.
“How about a pair of shoes?” he asked. “Will a pair of Christian Louboutinsmake it up to you?”
“What?” I could hardly speak as he brushed past me, leaning down into the passenger’s side of the waiting car, and retrieved a box. “Here. Try these out for size.” Then he lifted the lid, and my jaw dropped.
With my heart in my throat, I reached out and removed one heel and held it out. Covered in Swarovski crystals, the straps glittered in the sun like diamonds. The signature red undersole proved them to be genuine, and it took every ounce of restraint not to fall at his feet.
“Wow.” I breathed.
“I know, right? I mean, I’m a dude. I know nothing about fashion or shoes, but even I thought they were pretty awesome.”
I wanted to argue that he most clearly knew something about fashion, considering his current appearance, but I didn’t. I was too flabbergasted to say much else.
