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The sun peeking through the curtains woke me early the next morning. For a moment, I was disoriented, forgetting we were in New York, but then the night came back to me. Evan had spent most of the evening at the club, giving me and Analise our much-needed girl time. She’d ended up staying the night in the guest room downstairs—the same room I’d slept in when I first starting nannying for Evan.
So much had changed. I rolled over in the large bed, stretching my hand out for Evan. He was right there, warm and solid, someone I could depend on, and a mixture of excitement and nerves skittered through me in anticipation of the day ahead.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, sliding closer on the bed. “What are you doing all the way over there?”
I grinned as he pulled me into his arms. “Enjoying the space?” While I loved the coziness of our room in Texas, Evan’s bed was massive.
He chuckled, but then his expression grew serious. “Are you ready for what’s ahead today?”
”You mean my makeover?” I said, wanting to focus on the lighter part of my mission. “Ready as I'll ever be.”
“You can still change your mind,” Evan said. “I wouldn’t think anything less of you.”
“No.” I shook my head adamantly. “This is the best way.”
I gave him a quick kiss, then climbed out of bed before I lost my resolve. It would be all too easy to take his offer, but there was too much at stake. I could handle this, and Evan would be right by my side.
I left him in bed for now and went downstairs to find Analise already up and making coffee—something that never happened in our old apartment.
“You’re up early.”
“I didn’t want to miss a second of this.” She grinned. “Want a cup?”
“You know it.” I sat down at the kitchen island, and for a moment it felt like a normal morning again. Being back here in the penthouse, in New York, was bittersweet. I loved having Ana here, and this city had been my home my entire adult life. It made me long for a sense of normalcy.
That was why I was doing this. So, we could move on with our lives. It was a thought I’d hold on to as I faced the day ahead.
Not long after we finished our coffee, the stylist arrived.
“I am Sabine,” the woman said when I opened the front door, her French accent shining through. “And I am here to make you perfect.”
I stepped back as she clapped her hands twice and stepped aside. A line of assistants marched through the door with leather cases in hand, and I had to jump back to move out of their way. I glanced at Analise, pressing my lips together to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Sabine stepped out in front of her subordinates, who were wheeling in a large clothing rack, setting up shop right in the middle of the living room. The assistants left, then came back in with a three-way mirror, a pedestal, and a long folding table. In a matter of moments, the penthouse had been transformed into a private dressing area that’d make any woman feel like a princess.
I couldn’t believe this. When Evan appeared at the top of the stairs, I lifted my hands and gestured at the room. “Is this your doing?”
He glanced around, seeming as taken aback as I was. “I just asked Mason to find the very best stylist team in the city."
“And he did,” Sabine said sharply, turning my direction. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt and sleeveless silk blouse, and she looked like the most elegant woman I’d ever met when she slowly lowered her chic glasses and gave me a once over.
Evan made his way downstairs with a smirk on his face while I squirmed under Sabine’s appraisal. When she finally nodded and said, “A lovely canvas to begin with,” I had to fight the giggle bubbling up out of nowhere.
She wasted no time in getting straight to work. One after the next, she had me try on dresses from her rack, and it seemed as if it would go on forever. While I liked fashion and enjoyed pampering myself, this was to the extreme.
With each new outfit, Analise eagerly offered her input, while Evan stood back with his arms crossed over his chest. He eyed each dress with a mix of parental disapproval, fierce possessiveness, and raw lust. The muscles in his jaw ticked, his gaze pinned on me the entire time, and I had to wonder how hard he was fighting to maintain control. He didn’t seem keen on each subsequent dress leaving less and less to the imagination, but as Analise pointed out, that was the point.
"Trust me, Mariah," Analise said, holding up a dangerously low-cut red number. "Clients want eye candy on their arm—something classy but slutty at the same time."
I glanced at Evan, who growled when he heard that. “No.”
Analise rolled her eyes. “Are you serious right now? Do you want Caterina to take interest in her or not? You know I’m right. This is exactly what she’s looking for.”
Evan looked at me, and I felt my entire body flush with the intensity of the desire that flared in his eyes. My legs felt a little weak.
“Fine," he said, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “But not this one.”
The next one Sabine brought me was a black, cutout mini dress that hugged my curves and showed off more thigh than I'd ever dared to reveal before. When I stepped up onto the pedestal, I could feel Evan's eyes on me, the familiar growl rumbling in his chest again.
