Page 50 of Wicked God
I shake off the haze on Friday afternoon when I realize I don’t have a thing to wear to Hawthorne Industries’ party—the one where Alex and I are supposed to appear side by side as the perfect engaged couple. Cassandra and I leave Millhouse gallery in the capable hands of Anna, then she whisks me straight to Empire Heights’ most exclusive boutique: Silk & Satin.
The moment we step inside, the door’s bell gives a muted chime, barely disturbing the hush. Crystal chandeliers spread a golden haze over dresses that spill from their racks in ripples of silk and shimmer, each gown more breathtaking than the last.
“Ms. Jackson, Ms. Moore,” a saleswoman greets us. “We’ve been expecting you. Please, follow me to our private fitting area.”
As we trail behind her, Cassandra whispers., “Remember, we’re looking for something that screams ‘future Mrs. Hawthorne.’”
“Right. Nothing too revealing, nothing too demure. There has to be a middle ground.”
The fitting room is luxurious and inviting, with glasses of champagne and a rack of carefully selected gowns. I run my fingers over the various fabrics: silk, chiffon, taffeta.
“Let’s start with this one,” the saleswoman suggests, holding up a deep red mermaid gown.
I try it on; the fabric hugs my curves perfectly. But as I look at my reflection, I frown. “It’s beautiful but...”
Cassandra shakes her head. “Too Jessica Rabbit. Next!”
We go through gown after gown. A black velvet number (“Too somber”), a pink confection (“Too sweet”), a daring goldsequined piece (“Save that for the honeymoon”). With each rejection, my confidence wavers.
“What if I can’t find anything?” I mutter, stepping out of a green satin disaster that clings in all the wrong places.
Just as she says that, the saleswoman returns with a shimmer of blue fabric draped over her arm. “I think this might be the one, Ms. Carter.”
The moment I slip it on, I know she’s right. The gown is a deep sapphire with a sweetheart neckline and a flowing skirt that seems to float around me. Tiny crystals stitched along the bodice catch the light and sparkle with every movement.
I step out, and Cassandra’s gasp tells me everything.
“Olivia,” she breathes. “You look breathtaking. Alexander won’t know what hit him when he sees you in this.”
Gazing at my reflection, I hardly recognize myself. The gown fits perfectly, highlighting every curve and making me look elegant and regal. The fabric is soft and dreamlike against my skin, and I smile at the sight.
“This is it,” I agree. “This is the one.”
Cassandra looks at me the way a proud parent might. “You’re going to steal the show tonight. Alex won’t be able to look away.”
I snort. “That’s an exaggeration, but thank you.” I catch Cassandra’s gaze in the mirror. Her knowing smile lets me know she sees right through me.
She doesn’t let it go. “Is it? Do you also exaggerate the way your whole face lights up anytime he’s mentioned?”
I try for a shrug, but heat tickles my cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”
“To me? Completely.”
The seamstress discreetly excuses herself, giving us a moment alone. I turn to face Cassandra, my heart beating faster.
“I… think I might be falling for him, Cass. It’s not just physical attraction anymore. He’s kind, funny, and he actually listens towhat I have to say. But this situation is so complicated. What if this is all just a fantasy?”
Cassandra takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay to have feelings, Olivia. But you’re right, things are complicated. Have you told him?”
I shake my head. “I’m afraid to. What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
Cassandra raises an eyebrow. “Do you think that a man like Alexander would marry you without having any feelings for you? Olivia, he’s smart, perceptive, and he cares about you.”
Alex might care about me, but that doesn’t mean he’s falling in love with me.
“What do I do, Cass?”
She places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “First, we get this dress and make a statement tonight. The rest will work itself out. Just be honest—with him and with yourself.”
