Page 54 of Butterfly

In other circumstances, I’d hate to have two people discuss my outfit as if I weren’t there. But they get a pass this time because I have no intention of joining the fray or justifying myself in front of this stiff butler. My dress is what it is. If anything, I’m a little mad at Alex, who should have known better.

So, I slide my arm out of his and quietly head towards the exit. I’m not going to stay where they don’t want me. Their voices echo in the domed ceiling, covering the violin music from somewhere. It’s so classy to hear music but not to see its source.

“Sienna!” Alex is next to me before I can reach the bottom of the stairs. “Wait.”

I hold up a hand. “Listen, I’m not angry or anything. I don’t care, but I don’t want to stay here.”

“The man is just being ridiculous. If you give me five minutes, I’m sure I can convince him.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care. And he’s been clear.”

“The room I booked for us is magnificent.” He takes my shoulder, his gaze pleading. “Please wait here if you want. I can convince him.”

I pull at the dress again. “All right.”

He squeezes my hand before returning inside. I loiter in front of the entrance as the doorman smiles at me. I give him a wave while shuffling my feet. He touches the rim of his hat in greeting.

“Waiting for my boyfriend to…sort things out.” I wave an unnecessary hand towards the entrance.

“Of course, madam.” He bows his head.

Geez, what am I doing? I shuffle around, fighting the nervous urge to babble some more. Cold gusts sneak under the dress, causing my skin to pebble. Minutes pass. A few elegant couples walk into the restaurant. My word, now I get what the butler meant. There’s a lady with a shimmering silk dress that reaches the tips of her shoes and a plush velvet sash that partially covers her diamond necklace. A short train sweeps the floor behind her. Diamonds sparkle in her hair as well. Another one wears a complicated long dress that closes on the front with gems and stones forming a butterfly. I gape shamelessly.

Carrying a stormy cloud of wrath, Alex strides out of the restaurant, his lips pinching with annoyance. He takes my elbow gently and leads me down the stairs.

“I suppose he didn’t change his mind,” I say.

“Arsehole.”

As we wait for the valet to bring us the car, Alex paces along the pavement, his bulging muscles straining his jacket. Honestly, he’s too worked up. I don’t care about having dinner in an expensive restaurant, but it seems important to him. Or maybe the fact that he didn’t get what he wanted bothers him the most.

Once we’re in the car, he lets the tyres screech against the tarmac, and when he presses the gas pedal, I’m shoved back.

“I can’t believe anyone can be so stupid.” His jaw is a study in fury.

“It’s okay.” I pull myself up. The leather is slippery.

“No, it’s not.” He shoots a quick glance at me. “I’m sorry. I underestimated the situation. I didn’t think they could be such fascists about a stupid dress code.” He slows down, his breathing becoming less erratic. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, taking my hand. “It must have been horrible for you.”

“Actually, it’s not a big deal.” I hold his hand back. “I’m sorry I’m not going to see the flower room though. What’s so special about it?”

He shakes his head. “You’re going to see it for yourself because we’ll be back.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I want my bloody dinner.” He kisses my knuckles. “The way I planned it.”

“Where are we going then?”

He sinks his teeth into a corner of his mouth. “My house. I’ll cook an apology for you. Something.”

“You know, that sounds better than De Ville.”

His smile is tentative, but it’s there, and I lace my fingers through his.

Eighteen

Sienna

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