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She closes her eyes, takes in a deep breath, then exhales before opening her eyes again.
“Better?”
“A little.”
I follow her to the closet.
“Let’s focus on right now. What are you most worried about?”
She pulls one of the dresses off the rack and examines it. “Last night, I felt prepared, but then I woke up this morning and,” her eyes meet mine, “I felt unsure.”
If she’s talking about my absence, I want to reassure her it has nothing to do with her.
“What can I do to make you feel better?” My eyes fall on the knot of her robe, the silky material and how a flick of the wrist could have it parting in no time. Every cell in my body is begging to touch her, to help her find peace in this stressful moment.
Her hands move to her face.
“If you shower and get dressed, that will make me feel better.”
I nod, and follow her directions. In twenty minutes, I’ve showered, shaved and dressed in the clothes she picked out for me. Tailored pants and a button-down shirt.
Emma is now dressed in a sleeveless knit dress. It hugs every curve and the cream color contrasts with her dark locks and red lips.
She lifts her phone to take a selfie, but I step in behind her. Flipping her camera so that the picture is a reflection of us in the mirror, I place one hand against her hip and let the other slip around her neck. I duck my head, and kiss her jaw.
Her breath hitches, but then I hear the click of the camera.
She turns her face up toward me and smiles.
“You’re getting scary good at this.”
She has no fucking clue how easy it is to pretend she’s really mine.
In the car, Emma lifts a finger to her mouth, a delicate nail poised to be crushed between her teeth, so I take her hand and hold it in mine.
“We’ve got this,” I tell her.
She bites down on her lip and shakes her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think we’re ready.”
“At this point, we have to be. Besides, this woman is not the be all and end all of your career. You are moments away from signing a deal with Bergman’s and you’ve got a waiting list a mile long. Do we really care what Kandi Kline thinks?”
“She once told Atlas Villamor his designs were ‘too simple.’”
I shake my head. “I don’t know who that is.”
“Exactly.” She stabs her finger in the air to emphasize her point. “He was a designer on the rise and then, poof, just disappeared.”
“I don’t think me not knowing that bridal gown designer is an indication of his career success.”
“What I’m trying to say is we have to be flawless today.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and bites her lip. “Can we do that?”
“Yeah, we can.”
CHAPTER21
Emma
WhileThe Dress’s headquarters are located at One World Trade Center, Kandi’s assistant, Nakita, indicated that we were to meet at a more intimate location in Hell’s Kitchen. The word intimate has my body breaking out into a cold sweat.
