He opened the door and let me in first, and as I crossed the threshold, I remembered what I said to Millie about wanting to enjoy this make-believe love affair with Hutton in case I never had the real thing. At that point, my biggest worry was being caught in the lie. Now I realized I was starting to worry about something else.
This love affair might not be make-believe at all.
But that was ridiculous, right?
Of course it was. I was just having a good time living like a Kardashian, and I was confusing that feeling with something else. It was totally understandable. All I had to do was keep reminding myself what this was, and what this wasn’t.
Millie called while I was drying my hair.
“Hello?”
“Are you dripping in diamonds?”
I laughed. “No. I tried on a few today at Tiffany though.”
She gasped. “Stop it! You really went to Tiffany?”
“Yes, but only to look. We’re going to Chinatown tomorrow to buy a fake.”
“The best cubic zirconia money can buy?”
“Exactly. Believe me, he’s spending enough on this trip.”
“How’s everything going with you two?”
“Great.”
“Are the rumors true? Did he tie you up?”
“Maybe, and not yet.”
“Wait, what?”
I glanced at the door and lowered my voice, barely speaking above a whisper. “I think there is some truth to those rumors, but he hasn’t really shown me that side of himself yet.”
She gasped. “So would you let him?”
I paused, then deflected. “I have to go because we’re leaving in like twenty minutes and I still don’t know what I’m going to wear.”
“Do you have a safe word?”
“Millie!”
“I suggest something else.”
“I don’t need a safe word.”
“Oklahoma. Bumblebee. Roy Kent.”
“Goodbye, Millie.” I could still hear her laughing as I ended the call.
Wrapped in one of those fancy robes, I went into the bedroom and opened my bag to sort through the clothing I’d brought—much of it Winnie’s. This morning, after an emergency call from me, she had swung by on her way to work with an armful of dresses and a bag of shoes. I spread three dresses out on the bed and considered them, finally deciding on the little black dress with cap sleeves.
Hutton entered the room as I was hanging up the other two. “Hey, I have to run down to the business center for a fax from Wade. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Okay.”
I ditched the robe and wriggled into the dress, which zipped up the side. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I smiled. It wasn’t too short or cut too low, but fit very snug from shoulder to knee and gave the impression of more curves. Winnie had said to wear it with the strappy red satin heels for a sexy pop of color.
In the bathroom I quickly gathered my hair into a low bun and stuck a few pins in it. Thanks to my self-inflicted haircut, shorter pieces still hung haphazardly around my face, and for a moment I thought about digging out my nail scissors and evening them out a little more, but then I remembered how Hutton had said asymmetry was beautiful too. So I let them be.
I traded my glasses for contact lenses for the night, even though they drove me nuts, and tried to remember how Winnie had done my makeup on Saturday. After about ten minutes, I thought I had a reasonable imitation. I gave myself a quick spritz of perfume and strapped myself into the heels—thanks to a little platform, they weren’t too treacherous to walk in, but the dress was so fitted, I did have to take small steps.
I walked out of the bedroom into the living room, where Hutton was standing at the windows overlooking Central Park. “Hi,” I said.
He turned around, and his jaw dropped. “Jesus.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“You took my breath away. I’d say that’s good.”
I smiled. “Thank you. You look very handsome.” He wore a suit in a shade of blue slightly lighter than navy. His shirt was white, and his tie was a soft amber color.
He ran a hand over his hair, which was neatly combed and sort of slicked back like an old Hollywood movie star’s, and then rubbed his jaw. “I feel like I should have shaved.”
“Nah, I like the scruff. Gives you some edge.”
Smiling, he came toward me, hands in his pockets. “Thanks.”
“Should we go?” I glanced at the door. “Our reservation is—”