Page 50 of The Wife Deception
She picked the eyeliner from my hands and put it away, together with the rest of her items into the makeup kit, before cleaning up her smudgedlipstick.
"You know, I would have taken you for someone who would do makeup tutorials, not watch them."
Her gaze went to her phone. "Oh. I was trying a new trick. Apparently it's supposed to enhance your cheekbones."
I gazed at her through the mirror. "Your cheekbones are naturally beautiful."
Her face glowed with a hue that was not artificially reproduced by any blush in her kit. "Thanks. I could hardly follow it, anyway." She put away the rest of her things, snatched her phone, closed it, and turned to attempt to leave, but I blocked the exit with my body. My gaze traveled down the wraparound dress she had on that had a string to the side. A string that was tempting me to pull in the hopes of revealing the sexy body beneath.
"One more thing. Love your dress, but you can't wear that."
She gazed down, worry etched on her forehead when she looked back up. "Why? What's wrong with it? Is it not appropriate."
"Your dress is fine, but as someone married to the CEO of Hawthorne Corp, you can't be caught dead in a KMVH dress, especially during Fashion Week."
"Oh." She gritted her teeth. "I don't think I packed anything from any of your houses."
I put a hand to my chest. "You wound me, dear wife," and exaggeratedly staggered to the side mimicking fainting. Aelin giggled like a kid, warming my heart.
"Sorry!" she cried. "I didn't know!"
"Don't worry. I'll make a call to my people so they can bring a personal shopper."
"Thanks."
"No need. You're my wife, after all."An awkward silence passed between us after I said that word. Surprisingly, it did not come with a bitter taste, but rather felt natural. "Right." I side stepped her and went to the large glass cubicle in the center of the bathroom. "I'm going to shower, unless you want to join me?"
"Didn't you say you had meetings all day? I don't want you to be late."
I was about to say we can be quick, but she had already left the bathroom. As soon as I was done showering and dressing, I contactedHawthorne Italiaand a personal shopper came to the hotel suite as we were eating breakfast. By the time I was ready to leave, Aelin was discussing dresses and shoes with the shopper.
"I've left the invites on the dresser," I said to Aelin after taking her into my arms and placing a goodbye kiss on her cheek. "You can enjoy a front-row seat to some of the best shows without me and might even buy off the runway without your husband strangling your purse."
She darted her gaze to the side avoiding my gaze. In a low, unsure voice she said, "I don't think I can attend any without you. This kind of thing is not my scene."
"Why not? I would have thought this weekend would be your dream come true." I had seen a fair number of images of her sitting front row at major fashion shows. Unless she was only there as a paid influencer.
"And it is," she said in a fake cheery voice, as though she was rediscovering a character she had forgotten. She was doing that again. Hiding her true self. "It's not like Idon'twant to attend," she sighed. "It doesn't feel right going to a strange country alone."
"You can go with her," I gestured to the personal shopper who straightened her back betraying the fact that she was paying attention to our conversation.
"I think Bianca has better things to do than babysit her boss's wife."
"Hey Bianca, do you want front row seats to two fashion shows?"
Bianca's eyes widened. And that was all the proof I needed. "See, she doesn't mind." I placed another kiss on her cheek. "See you later, wife."
The last image of her I had when I left the suite was of Aelin blushing prettily as she stood in the middle of the living area. She warmed my heart in a way I couldn't describe.
I left the hotel for theHawthorne Italiaoffices, where I got stuck in several unplanned meetings, all by subordinates who were taking my presence as an opportunity to advance their careers by hoping they would please me. It wasn't working. But they didn't seem to understand, or notice that I wasn't paying attention to their efforts. It wasn't because of a lack of trying on my part. I was always impressed by the creativity of the Milan office and their ability to find new talent, but my mind was not on business mode. It was instead preoccupied with a certain woman I left in my hotel suite a few hours earlier.
The host of the current meeting I was in was now showing some productivity charts on the projector screen. Stuff I had seen before. Mind-numbingly boring stuff. I slid my phone, which had been on the table, slightly off to the side, in front of me and typed a text with the best serious business face I could put on.
Me:
What are you wearing?
She didn't answer immediately, and I thought she was going to ignore me until a text popped up.
