Page 98 of Made for Wilde
The most gorgeous dress I’ve ever seen in my life.
It’s the color of midnight, so dark it’s almost black, but with an undertone that shifts to deep blue in the light. The cut is a wrap style that will hug my curves perfectly while accommodating my growing bump.
Beneath the dress, nestled in more tissue paper, are a pair of sky-high black stilettos with delicate ankle straps and soles the color of fresh blood.
Louboutins.
I don’t even want to know how much these cost.
My phone is already in my hand before I fully process the decision to call Sarah.
“Please tell me you’re free this morning,” I say the moment she picks up.
“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Sarah’s voice is thick with sleep, but I can hear the smile in it. “What’s got you so worked up at—” A pause. “Charlotte, it’s barely eight AM.”
“Koda left me a spa certificate and the most incredible outfit I’ve ever seen. I need backup for mani-pedis, and I need someone to help me figure out what the hell he’s planning for tonight.”
“Spa day?” Sarah’s voice perks up immediately. “I’m listening.”
“Fit Mountain Resort. Can you meet me there in an hour?”
“For their legendary cucumber mint pedicures? I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”
I end the call and practically float to the shower, Koda’s note still clutched in my hand. The hot water feels amazing against my skin, and I take extra time with my hair routine, using the expensive leave-in treatment I’ve been saving. Whatever tonight holds, I want to look perfect.
An hour later, I’m sinking into the plush pedicure chair at the resort’s spa, Sarah beside me looking equally blissful as warm water swirls around our feet.
“So,” Sarah says, settling back into her chair with a contented sigh. “Spill. What’s the mountain man up to?”
I show her the note, watching her eyebrows climb toward her hairline as she reads.
“Explore your wildest fantasies?” She fans herself dramatically. “Damn, girl. That man does not mess around.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I have no idea what he’s planning. The dress is gorgeous, but it’s so fancy. Where could we possibly be going in Cooper Heights that requires Christian Louboutin heels?”
“Wait, he bought you Louboutins?” Sarah’s voice rises enough that the nail technician working on her feet glances up with interest. “Let me see.”
I pull up the photo I took of the shoes, and Sarah actually gasps.
“Those are at least fifteen hundred dollars, Charlotte. Minimum.”
My stomach drops. “What? No way.”
“Way. I spent an entire afternoon lusting after a pair just like those at Nordstrom last month.” Sarah leans closer, studying the photo. “The man is clearly planning something special.”
The technician working on my feet—a petite woman with kind eyes—looks up from painting my toes a soft pink that complements my skin tone perfectly.
“Your husband sounds very romantic,” she says with a slight accent I can’t place.
“Oh, he’s not my?—”
I start to correct her, then stop. What is Koda to me, exactly? Boyfriend feels too casual for a man who’s giving me his child and buying me designer shoes. “Thank you. He is.”
Sarah shoots me a knowing look but doesn’t comment on my slip.
“So how are things going with the pregnancy?” she asks as the technician moves to work on her feet. “You’re what, seventeen weeks now?”
I nod, my hand moving instinctively to my bump, which is just starting to show in fitted clothes. “Seventeen weeks tomorrow. Finally feeling human again.”
