Page 94 of Wallflower
She shakes her head a little, and I can feel the flight of her pulse under my palm.
“Chord, I don’t know. It’s all happening so fast.”
And I can’t wait any longer.
“Can I give you your present now?”
That brings her back, and a look of guarded curiosity moves across her face. “A present? You said it was a surprise, not a present.”
“Can’t it be both?”
She bites her lip, the first hint of reticence today, and tucks her phone away. “You’ve done something over the top, haven’t you?”
The urge to grin is almost too much, but years of practice help me keep a straight face. “No. I don’t think so.”
I step out and open her door, then lead her up the street. Violet snuggles against my arm as she surveys the businesses.
“Can you imagine having a store here?” she asks dreamily. “Or a studio? Oh, look!” She points at a fashion boutique, drops my hand to hurry closer, then pauses out front to look at the designs on display in the tall glass window. “That dress is gorgeous.”
“Do you want to go in?”
She narrows her eyes. “Is that what this is? A shopping spree? That’s very sweet of you, but I really don’t—” She cuts off at my chuckle and crosses her arms over her chest. “What? What’s so funny?”
“We’re not here to buy you pretty things, though I like the sound of that so much we’ll come back to it soon.” I take her hand again, guide her another dozen steps up the street, and then gently spin her around to face her gift.
Before us is a narrow, white Victorian-style storefront with a simple, sophisticated sign above the black French doors that proclaims it the flagship venue forViolet James—Bridal Couture. And in the window, two dresses are displayed on modern, minimalist mannequins. The first is Violet’s blue dress from the gala. The other is just one version of the wedding dress she’s been re-designing for a decade.
Violet covers her sharp inhalation with two hands, and her eyes flood with tears.
“Chord! What did you do?”
“I bought you a studio.”
I don’t think she knows she’s shaking her head, but her reaction is cute as fuck. “But… but…how?”
I paid a freaking fortune, pissed off a lot of contractors, and begged Victoria Hall for help to get it done so quickly, but I’m not going to tell Violet that.
“A designer who’s about to take the fashion world by storm needs a studio space, right?”
“Chord, I…” An overwhelmed sob escapes her throat, and she throws her arms around my neck and burrows her face into my shoulder. “I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.”
I wrap her up and hold her tight, closing my eyes and breathing her in.
I’ve never felt this kind of triumph before, not even holding the championship Cup. This pleasure and satisfaction that comes from taking care of someone I love. Using the money I’ve made to hand deliver a dream—and having her accept what I can give her because she knows I just want her to be happy. I’m flying so fucking high.
I blink away the sting in my eyes, kiss her hard and fast, and then let her go so we can both look up at the building. It’s the first time I’m seeing it outside of the photographs and emails sent to me by my interior designer.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
She squeezes my hand and glances at me, but it lasts only a moment because she’s only got eyes for her studio right now.
“Chord, Iloveit.”
I fish the key from my pocket and dangle it in front of her.
“You want to go inside?”
“Oh, my God.” She shakes as she accepts the keys. “This is really real.”
