Page 42 of Frayed Bonds

2p.m.

The time I started getting ready.

A divine shower: a hair wash, shave, exfoliate–the works. Dried off, did my full skincare routine, applied body moisturiser, and applied my first round of perfume too.

4 p.m.

The time I started trying on dresses because the only correct order to get done is: dress, hair and then make-up.

Ambrose, or rather his credit card, generously bought me plenty of options for tonight, all from brands I haven't even looked at since my days in Paris. I tried to stick with the ones I've heard that the Vitales have shares in, which thankfully for me, was nearly every single one I used to love.

The only limitation was Ambrose’s text to me saying the event had a theme which was 'Enchanted Eden Affair'. Which to say the least has thrown me for a tailspin trying to figure out what is considered both black tie, but also suitable for a garden party. The fact that he hasn't told me where the event is happening is not helping much either.

6

The number of pairs of shoes currently lying on my floor.

The dress Ambrose’s credit card bought is hanging perfectly against my cupboard inside a garment bag while I try and sort out which shoes would work with it. Some are either too casual, too high, too formal, or simply not good enough. I’m supposed to be standing on Ambrose Vitale’s arm, paid or not, there’s no way I can walk in looking like I got shipped home from my soon to be ex-husband’s house. Even though that’s exactly what happened.

Appearance is everything to these people, and I need mine to be perfect.

8 p.m.

On the dot, I hear my doorbell ring, telling me that he's here and my stomach drops so quickly it feels like I’m on one of the roller coasters that Antonio and I would ride again and again at the fair when we were younger.

“Val!” Karyn’s voice rings up the stairs. I hurry to grab my purse and the last few things I need to throw into it. My heels tick down the stairs as I descend, and so does the lip gloss that slips out of my hands and tumbles down the stairs, rolling to a stop next to a pair of all-black wingtips.

A tattooed hand reaches down to grab it, and I swallow before I will my eyes to trail up from the floor.

His black slacks are crisp, the front seam pressed to perfection, the white of his shirt nearly blinding, but stopped enough by the black suit jacket atop of it. It’s unbuttoned. A gold chain along with a tattoo peaks out, and then I make my fatal move and meet his eyes.

The green that stares back at me is enough to knock the air completely out of my lungs. It isn’t the colour, but the way his eyes are drinking me in. They're darker than their usual shade of jade green.

Karyn clears her throat and I jump, not realising she is still in the room with us. To be fair, I didn’t realise there was anything else in the room other than Ambrose himself.

She’s been glued to my back ever since I told her that Ambrose asked me to go to this dinner with him – I did leave out the details of him paying me, because I still feel a bit dirty at the thought of being paid to be a man’s date. It’s clear that it is a huge event, and I of course had no idea it even existed before the email notification popped up on my laptop at work.

“Thank you,” I say, and take the gloss from his hand. The interaction gives me a few seconds to admire the spider tattoo on his hand, its thin legs stretching out to the edges of his hand and before I can take in any more detail, he pulls his hand back.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks with an amused smirk on his lips. I nod, and smile awkwardly at Karyn who is staring back at us as if she’s seen a celebrity.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Ambrose. This is my cousin, Karyn. Karyn, this is Ambrose,” I say, realising I never introduced them as I was too caught up in my haze.

“A pleasure.” He flashes his perfect smile, and I swear there’s a Karyn-sized puddle where she was standing.

“Don’t wait up, I've got keys,” I yell over my shoulder as Ambrose holds the door open for me and then closes it after.

“You look beautiful,” he says so lowly I have to do a double take to see if the words did come from him. His apathetic expression doesn't help either. It’s only when I say thank you and he nods, that it’s confirmed.

A man in a black suit opens the car door, he gestures for me to get into the backseat.

As Ambrose enters behind me, my eyes land on a pocket square in the perfect shade of pink to match my dress. I smile and tap it lightly causing him to stare at it.

“Nice pocket square, I like it.”

“I figured you might,” he smiles smugly. My legs feel like jelly under me and suddenly, it feels like I’m about to overheat, even though nearly my entire back is exposed.

The drive is comfortable, Solex is playing through the speakers and I hide a small smile to myself, realising how much he enjoys their music.

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