Page 83 of Wingwoman
What was there, however, were two more simply wrapped boxes. Pale blue paper, the color of Josh’s eyes. A silk scarf tying them both together. And a single envelope of heavy cardstock resting on top with my name scribbled in masculine cursive. Same as before.
Same as always.
I peeked each way down the hall, not seeing Josh anywhere. “You have to stop doing this!” I called out, hoping he could hear me in this mansion.
I was met with nothing but my own echo. With a sigh, I picked up the boxes and set them gently on my bed, first untying the silk scarf. It was thinner than all the others. Far more dainty and meant to be almost a piece of jewelry around your neck.
I sucked in a breath, reading the tag. Hermès.
I folded it carefully and set it aside before opening the card.
Muse is the light, to a poet wandering in dark.
To be someone he writes about, needs to be worth rekindling the spark.
-Sudhir
I opened the first box, only to be immediately met with another card.
Well, that was new. There was no envelope, just a simple note card sitting on top of neatly folded tissue paper.
For my Prada-loving muse…
Your outfit for tonight.
I opened the rest of the tissue paper and held my breath as I pulled out a beautiful pale-blue organza belted midi dress I’d seen at Bergdorf Goodman’s earlier this season. It was elegant and beautiful, but also casual enough for a night out. In a word, it was stunning.
I held it up to myself and looked in the mirror. I couldn’t wait to try it on.
Gifts or not, I couldn’t keep all these. It just wasn’t right.
But I sure could wear the hell out of it for the next six weeks.
I eyed the next box, then quickly opened it to find another note card inside on top of the tissue paper.
As you very specifically stated about the Lucchese boots…
They’re no Louboutins.
No. He. Did. Not.
My heart fluttered as I peeled away the tissue paper.
Resting in the box, two perfect Louboutin boots sat with their shiny signature red soles peeking back at me.
I nearly wept at how beautiful they were.
I was so caught off guard by the Louboutins, I didn’t think to check my caller ID when my phone rang.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hey there, Hopsicle.”
My blood froze within my veins. I hadn’t heard that nickname in months. Not since the last time I spoke with…
“Brent.”
“How’ve you been?”
