Page 95 of Sugar

I finally allowed myself to look at her.

On her knees.

Smiling up at me.

Fucking hell.

Maybe I can install a set of cuffs like Gilded, too.

Chapter 19

The Prettiest Saint

MADDIE

Sitting on the side ofmy bed, I did the same thing I did every day. I read my morning text from Easton.

Or, in that case, I reread it. I hadn’t been able to fully process it the first time. I’d only been operating at half a brain cell when it’d come in at the ungodly hour of seven AM on a Saturday. And then I’d snoozed my alarm too many times and had to rush through brunch prep.

That wasn’t hard since it was just showering and throwing on athleisure that made it look like I’d attended hot yoga with Wren and Greer when I very much hadnot.

Easton: Good morning, guppy. Text me when you’re actually awake, and I will send you a coffee. You’ll be attending an engagement party with me tonight. Sorry for the late notice. I forgot about it, and it’s too important of a client to skip. Pick you up at 8. Wear your white dress, and make sure you’re done with assignments by then.

Me: I finally get to meet one of your clients? Who is it?

I didn’t think I would get a quick response since he’d already shared that he had a few meetings and an interview for a new paralegal, but one came through instantly.

Easton: You’ll have to attend to find out.

Me: Deal. But I’m not wearing the white dress. Backup choice?

Easton: What did I say, Madeline?

I had the tendency to question Easton on occasion.

And that occasion was pretty much daily.

One thing that I didn’t push back on, though, was when he told me what to wear. I loved that. Not only did it pluck one thing off my plate, it also took the guesswork out of trying to look… presentable.

Okay, fine.Good. I wanted to look good for him, and I knew that was accomplished when I wore what he’d picked out.

Only the white dress was not happening.

Before I could tell him why, he sent another text. Maybe because of the nature of our not-a-relationship, he didn’t play any games. There was no need to. He never waited some bullshit time period after seeing me. And he didn’t try to space out his double or sometimes triple texts.

Easton: If it’s dirty, I’ll have someone take it to the laundromat for a rush job so you can focus on your schoolwork.

Me: I’m not wearing white to an engagement party. It’s poor taste, and it would guarantee someone will “accidentally” spill red wine down it. I like that dress. I don’t want it ruined.

Easton: I’m also fond of it, so I agree. I’ll send something else.

Me: I have options.

Easton: I will send something else.

Since I’d kinda broken a rule by arguing, I messaged back a distraction.

Me: In good news, my assignments were done last night. It must be a miracle.

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