Page 34 of Tributary

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Diana

I FEEL POSITIVELY electric after a three days schmoozing about incorporating artificial intelligence and machine learning into plant propagation and fertilization. There is a whole world of young botanists and agricultural scientists who are now partnering with tech developers. I even met people using AI to perfect beer recipes.

My phone rings as I’m walking back to the hotel and for once I’m excited to babble to Indigo all about my day. “You wouldn’t believe all the herbalists here,” I tell her. “How’s the nausea?”

“It’s great. Don’t change the subject. Did you bone Asa Wexler again?”

When I try to veer back to plants, I hear her beckon Sara over closer to the phone and the two of them cajole me into telling them all the details of my conference trip so far. Which, as far as they’re concerned, involves whooping and hollering about my dinner date with Asa.

Sara hollers in the background, “What are you going to wear on your date? Not the blazer with the shoulder pads.”

“Oh, good point, babe,” Indigo counters. “Switch me to video chat and show me your choices.”

I pause. I don’t have anything that works for dinner out with a billionaire. I don’t even know where he’s taking me, come to think of it. “What do I do?”

Indigo laughs. “Ooh this is amazing. You march your cute butt down to the boutique on the first floor and charge something to the room! Take me with you. On video chat.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll call you back once I’m down there.”

“Video. Chat.”

I steel myself to enter a frilly boutique, thankful I wore my nice underwear. I grab a handful of dresses in my size and hustle to a fitting room, where I situate my phone on the shelf and call Indigo back.

She immediately scolds me for the plain dresses I brought in with me. “Everything in this damn store is dripping with sequins,” I tell her.

“Then ask the sales girl to help you,” she says. “Don’t hang up. I want to hear you ask her. These dresses you picked are, like, job interview dresses. You need a cocktail dress, friend.”

Sara snickers, pushing herself closer to Indigo. “Get it? Cock!”

“You guys are worse than my brothers.” I sigh and approach the front of the store, where a woman my mom’s age is stocking merchandise. I bite my lip and explain to her that I need a dress for dinner, and before I can babble through any more explanations, she’s got a dozen frothy dresses in my arms.

She smiles and waves at Indio and Sara on my phone. They’re literally eating popcorn and watching me try on dresses. “Why don’t you guys call Abigail over while you’re being so damn nosy.” I shrug into a tight purple dress that is a few inches shorter than I’d like.

“Pass,” Sara says, shaking her head at the purple dress. “And Abigail’s on her way straight from work. No worries!” They burst into giggles when I toss the rejected dress over the phone screen. Since when do I get worked up over what to wear?

Indigo’s voice is muffled when she asks, “How long has it been since you went on a proper date anyway? What do you usually wear out to those bars where you pick up one night stands?”

“Oh my god, I bet she wears tank tops and jeans,” Sara says, her mouth full of popcorn. She’s right, of course. I wear whatever the fuck I want to slink into a bar and meet some nameless stranger. But none of them make me come the way Asa can, I think. And none of them make me feel like my veins are erupting when I look at them.

I hesitate and reach for a soft pink dress. Pink is far outside my comfort zone, but the design is pretty and I feel drawn to it for some reason. I slide it on, and it hugs my curves comfortably. I don’t even look like myself in this dress. I look…well, I look like the sort of woman who goes out on dates with Asa Wexler.

“That’s the one!” Indigo and Sara shout in unison with the clerk, who pulls back the curtain on the dressing room to show me some shoes. Indigo starts clapping her hands. I smile, spinning around to check out the drape of the dress in the back.

“Oh, yes, dear, this one really accentuates your ending,” the clerk tells me, gesturing at my backside.

“My ending?”

Sara snickers. “Charge the shoes to the room, too,” Indigo pipes in. “Tell her you want some actual makeup while you’re at it!”

By the time Asa’s due to pick me up, I’ve been trussed and brushed, and shoveled into a strapless bra.

I phone down to the front desk to let them know Asa will be meeting me at my suite, and at 6 sharp, I hear a knock at the door.

Grinning and unusually giddy, I open it to find Asa resplendent in a tux, his blue eyes gleaming beneath tousled dark hair. The jacket and pants fit him so well, and I flush, remembering the feel of the naked body it covers. I watch his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallows, then coughs.

“Diana,” he breathes. “You look…unbelievably breathtaking.”

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