Page 73 of Bound By Flames
“No, I’ve been careful since she has a kid. I don’t want to scare her away.”
“Makes sense. Maybe it’s time you reach out to her, huh?” I suggest.
“I want to, but I don’t know how.” His jaw ticks slightly. That’s new. Must be one hell of a woman to make him all bothered like that.
“You’ll find a way, but whatever you choose, just make sure it doesn’t freak her out. Women don’t find the idea of someone threatening their safety appealing. You can’t go on with this forever, Cart.” I’m hoping to shake some sense into him.
“I know, I know…”
“Just help her out with something one day or give her a compliment. I don’t fucking know, you should ask Vox. He’s better at that than me.” I chuckle roughly cause’ we’re both borderline psychopaths talking about approaching women in a non-threatening way, and the irony is just too loud.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll try.”
“Good, I’ll text you the address of the gallery for Saturday.” I think about my beautiful redhead and how proud I am of what she did this morning.
Carter nods, turning to the door. “Thanks, boss,” he says, his voice cold and empty of emotion as he closes the door.
Like I said, never a dull moment with Carter.
Mia
Silky fabric, rainbows of colors and textures between my fingers.
God, I love shopping.
Not because I like material things, but because it’s like painting to me. Choosing the right shades, finding the best fabrics, adjusting on the different bodies, and finding the best match. It’s artsy yet so close to science sometimes. And it’s safe. There’s nothing good or bad here, nothing I can’t control. I sigh with contentment, a light smile dancing on my lips.
“Not this one, nope. This won’t do, too colorful, too look at me I’m rich, too—” Vanessa says as she looks at the dresses like an accountant at spreadsheets.
“What about this one?” I take the hanger out, displaying a midi dress in a deep burgundy, seductive yet professional enough with a chic cut.
“Ohh, yes, girl, that’s exactly what I was looking for. I’ll try it, c’mon.” Following her into the large changing room of this high-hand store, I glance back at the four tattooed men in leather jackets securing the entryways, hands behind their backs like soldiers, as if someone was about to attack us in the middle of a shopping spree.
Ares and his control freak habits are way over the top.
I sit on the comfortable and lavish red sofa, waiting for Vanessa to come out. I’ve chosen tight jeans with a boho white blouse and a little purse with ruffles. It’s so cute.
I’ve taken the opportunity to look at a few pieces for my clients, and I’ve found a few pieces that will work on abusinesswoman I’ve worked with for years. Three times a year I design her a whole new wardrobe. Makes it easier for her to focus on her work, and she never has to spend mental energy on what she should wear and what goes with what. I like knowing that I’m helpful, that I make people’s lives easier by styling their clothes for them. To me, it’s second nature.
“Sooo?” Vanessa says, spinning and making poses in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror with a golden frame.
“Mrs Dash, Mrs Malone, would you like a glass of champagne?” says a young brunette with sleek hair and a lovely beige dress.
“Oh yes, thank you,” Vanessa says, taking one glass from the tray. The saleswoman turns her face to me with a light, professional smile. “Could I have a glass of water, please?” I ask.
“Of course, I'll be right back.” She nods.
See, you just have to ask. It’s no big deal.
“No champagne?” asks Vanessa, sipping her glass.
“No, that’s not really my thing,” I admit.
“Wait, you’re not—” Her eyes widen like she’s hallucinating or something.
“What? No, I’m not pregnant!” I gasp, I almost want to tell her that her brother and I only exchanged our first real kiss a few days ago but I kind of want to keep it for me. I like her, but I’m still not sure if I can trust her.
“Okay, okay, sorry, it’s just, you know, with Ares’s past and all.” Her palms lift in the air apologetically.
