Shane Hassholm
Events Director at IMP
“Oh my God...” I breathe, steadying myself against the armchair.
“Did he say yoursindeed?Yours indeed!”
I chuckle, and Emma jumps around like a frog on cocaine, ignoring me as I repeat that he’s messing with me.
“Oh! We have to get you a dress! And please,please, a new pair of shoes!” She blabs about doing my hair some way or another, and I know tomorrow I’ll be grateful she’s all over my look. But right now, all I can do is stare at his email.
Mine indeed, Mr. Asshole.
Chapter12
Heaven Is Hot as Hell
“How do I look?”
Emma is short of weeping, her round eyes glimmering with what I’m sure are wildly inappropriate thoughts about Shane and me. “Heaven, you’re hot as all hell.”
I tilt my head at the mirror. I don’t know abouthot, but this is the best I’ve looked in a while. Maybe ever. “Are you sure it isn’t too much?” I ask, grazing my fingers on the red fabric. It’s thin, very thin. And there isn’t too much of it either. The cleavage dips all the way to my stomach, and I’m not wearing a bra. Instead, Emma slapped my boobs to see if they stay in place. They do.
“Too much? No, it’s nottoo much. Have you seen the restaurant he’s bringing you to?”
He’s not bringing me anywhere, but every time I point that out, Emma snorts and rolls her eyes.
As I twirl to the right, the gown follows my movements, the two deep splits showing so much of my legs that I was forced to use nude underwear. When I tried it inside the dressing room, I felt confident. Plus, Emma and the shop assistant were persuasive. Damn saleswomen. Now that I have to wear it in front of people, especially Shane, I’m regretting my very expensive and inappropriate purchase.
“I don’t know...”
Emma steps to my side, glaring at the mirror. “Oh, stop it. You look amazing, and you want to impress him, don’t you?”
“I do, but—”
“No ‘buts.’ You came here in jeans and a t-shirt, so you don’t have an alternative. It’s either this or bare nipples.”
She’s right. I asked him to pick me up at Emma’s place—I’ll take any excuse not to see Alex right now—and I have nothing else here. Emma, with her five feet three inches, and I definitely aren’t the same size, so...This is what I’m wearing.
I’m strategically thinking of excuses that would allow me to keep my coat on through the entire dinner when my work phone beeps.
“Oh my God! Is it him? Is it him?” Emma asks while looking out the window at the headlights pulling up to her apartment complex.
I laugh and grab the phone while she shrieks, hopping around me like a bunny. “Hello?” I say after telling Emma to shut up and pressing the answering button.
Shane’s warm, husky voice says, “Hi, Heaven. I’m outside.”
Oh, God. Goosebumps, nausea, self-awareness. Man, do I wish I had another dress.
“Okay, I’ll come down.”
When I hang up, I face Emma. I probably look about as panicked as I feel because her fingers grip my arm in an encouraging squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll see. You’ll have a great time, and he won’t keep his eyes off you for a second.”
Or he’ll think I look like an escort. Hopefully Emma is right, and he’ll just think I look hot.
I turn to the mirror and retouch my red lipstick. I check my eye makeup, but the eyeliner hasn’t smudged around my almond eyes, nor has the mascara. And my brown hair is in beach waves, bouncing all over my shoulders every time I move. She’s right. I look great.
“Come on, I’ll walk you downstairs.”