Page 91 of Black Ties and White Lies

She playfully sticks her tongue out at me, turning to go into my room. “Well, let’s sit down and open it so I can be incredibly jealous of you.”

Winnie shows off her perfectly straight and white teeth in a wide smile. “You don’t have to open it in front of us if you don’t want to.AlthoughI do want to see…”

“Speak for yourself!” Emma yells from the room. “I’m dying to know what he got her. Hurry up, ladies.”

I laugh, nodding my head to the room. “We can’t keep her waiting or she’ll come back in here.”

Winnie and I take a seat on the bed with Emma, all of us staring at the neatly wrapped box in my lap. Part of me wants to open it alone, to cherish the moment, knowing the gift has to be from Beck. I know there’s no way Emma would let me get away with that, and another part of me wants to giggle like a girl in high school with an intense crush with my friends about receiving a present from the boy I like. Beck is no boy, but the feelings coursing through my veins right now have me feeling like a lovesick school girl.

I pull a black envelope from underneath the ribbon. Beck’s familiar handwriting is scrawled across the front, spelling out my name. I run my hand over the letters, loving how the loops and lines eloquently form together to spell my name.

Flipping the envelope over, I pull at the monogrammed sticker he used to seal the envelope. There’s a white custom card inside. I pull it out, holding it up to my face and looking at my friends from over top of it as I hide my smile.

“Read it,” Winnie encourages, leaning forward in excitement.

I hold it closer to my body. “The note is for me andonlyme. So back off,” I tease, scooting back on the bed. Knowing Beck, something dirty could be written on the expensive custom card. I want to read it before either of them have the chance to.

Pulling the card out, I neatly set the envelope down next to me. I want to keep it nice and safe, to keep everything nice and pristine from this gift so I can stare at it all later. I open the letter, blushing as my eyes roam over the words he’d neatly scrawled.

Prepare to wear nothing but these for me.

Love, your fiancé

The blush creeps from my cheeks all the way down to my chest. I meet the eyes of my friends, unable to form words as I recount the simple sentence he’d written. How do only eight words have me wishing our party was already over and he was making good on his promise?

“Is it romantic?” Winnie asks whimsically.

My lips rub together coyly. “You could say that.”

In one fluid movement, Emma leans forward and snatches the note from my hands. She quickly reads over the note, throwing it back into my lap with a loud groan. “I gethey you uptexts and you get shit like this? Not fair,” she whines.

Winnie grabs the note from my lap, doing it a lot gentler than our friend just did. Her cheeks get pink immediately as she hands it back, her eyes wide.

“That wasn’t for either of you to read,” I murmur, pulling the present into my lap.

“I’m glad I did. Next time a man sends me a dick pic as foreplay, I know what I’m missing out on.”

I ignore the conversation between the two of them as I pull at the ribbon atop the present. It’s wrapped so perfectly that I feel bad tearing into the paper. It doesn’t stop me from pushing forward, to see what he’s placed inside.

To find what I’ll be wearing for him tonight.

Pulling the paper off, I find a Jimmy Choo cloth bag that envelops what must be a shoe box.

“I think I might hate you,” Emma pipes up as I open the drawstring bag. I pull the shoebox out, running my hand over the lid.

“Jealous much?” Winnie teases.

“Obviously I’m jealous! I want one. Where do I find one?”

I resist the urge to tell her it wasn’t luck or fate that brought Beck and I together. It was him needing his board to think he’s settled down and me doing anything to get back to the city that’s forever felt like home. Plus, the chance of landing my dream job when this is all said and done.

My fingers carefully pry the lid off the shoe box. All of us gasp in unison as we stare at the pair of shoes nestled inside. I don’t know if you can even call them shoes, they look more like art.

“That’s it. I’m jealous, too,” Winnie states.

“Back off. You can buy your own.” Emma shoves Winnie’s shoulder playfully.

“Not the same,” Winnie responds under her breath.

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