Page 65 of Between the Lines

“On your arm?” I ask. “I’m meant to be shadowing you.”

His lips curve, and there’s a sinful look there that makes my stomach drop. “Yes, Chaos. Be my shadow. As long as you stay close to me, I’ll be happy.”

I reach for the curtain. My heart is beating too fast, and I like it far too much. “Come back when I’m finished.”

“Not even LA traffic could stop me.”

I settle on a long, amber-colored dress and a pair of strappy heels. The dress is asymmetrical at the top—draping over one shoulder and leaving my other bare.

I stress-test the zipper twice in the dressing room. It holds.

The attendants are very, very nice. The kind of nice you might only encounter when you’re spending an outrageous amount of money. They add a small purse to the pile, saying that Mr. Hartman had insisted.

A tiny part of me is whispering that all this is too much.

The larger part lets me be swept up in the fantasy. That just for tonight, maybe I can have this experience. One I’ll remember forever.

Similarly, the salon next door takes good care of me. My hair is washed and blowdried until it’s long and gleaming. And when the makeup artist asks me what I’d like, I look at my bare face in the mirror and think of my fear of being recognized.

“Make me look different,” I tell her. “A lot of dark eye shadow, maybe?”

She leans back and assesses me. “We could do a smokey look. Dark red lip and exaggerated smokiness. I think that would look really good on you.”

“Let’s do it.”

When I’m done, I barely recognize my reflection—smokey eyes and soft gleaming hair. I look taller than I truly am, thanks to the heels, and have a dress that makes me feel like a goddess. The salon had given me a glass of champagne, my second already, and I’m feeling like Nighttime Charlotte again. Stepping into a different version of myself.

Aiden is waiting outside the salon. He’s leaning against the car in a tux, talking to someone on the phone. He looks tall, handsome, and rich.

And then he sees me.

He stops talking, and slowly lowers his phone from his ear. His eyes look me over, and I bathe in his languid gaze, in the way it lingers. For the first time since I met him, I feel like I match him. Like, I could stand beside him while he’s in his tux and it would look like we belong together.

“Holy shit,” he says.

CHAPTER 24

AIDEN

I can’t stop staring.

Charlotte is a vision in a long, amber dress that accentuates her hair. It hugs her narrow waist, and then a single piece of draped fabric crosses her shoulder. Her arms are bare. And when she takes a step forward, the dress reveals a high slit in the flaring skirt, and a flash of a long, lean leg.

Fucking hell.

Some kind of magic happened with her hair. The light-brown waves are glossy, falling around her face and down her back like a waterfall. She’s wearing red lipstick and there’s darkness around her eyes.

“Thanks,” she says.

Her voice brings me back to the here and now. She is made up like a goddess, but she’s still my Charlotte. Charlotte of the late nights on the couch, of the sparring matches in my office, of the banter and quick-witted comebacks.

My eyes snag on her shoes. They’re black and strappy, andfuck, those heels. They look deadly.

“You’re not saying anything,” she says. She grips a clutch in front of her. Good. I’m glad they persuaded her on the full getup.I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to convince her to treat herself to even more.

“You look…”

“It’s too much. Isn’t it?”

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