Even if I was just desperate to make her presence seem more…permanent.
Relax. She’s not going to disappear.
Another round of female laughter kicks up from the dressing room and I reverse directions, walking backward a few steps. And that’s when I see her. My Stella.
In a dress.
Not like one of her sweater ones.
Not at all.
It’s emerald green. Shiny material—satin, I think. Tight on top where it hugs and plumps her tits, before coasting down over her hips. There’s a high slit on the right thigh that makes my fingers twitch. Makes me ache to take two fistfuls of the dress’s hem and slip it higher. The gold key chain necklace I gave her plunges down into her cleavage, visible for the first time while at work. I wonder if she’s noticed. Normally it remains hidden during business hours. Is it too much to hope for that she’s getting comfortable with everyone knowing she’s seeing the boss?
Because everyone does know.
Monday was the first time I needed to be inside her during business hours, but it wasn’t the last. People might not suspect that I’ve got her legs shaking around my waist in the filing cabinet room, but there’s no way to deny we’re spending our lunch hour together. Leaving together at the end of the day. And I don’t want to deny what this is or hide. There is no reason to anymore, save Stella’s hesitancy to be all in on our relationship. And I’m going to be patient about that. I am. I’ll give her as long as she needs. But I can’t pretend I don’t love seeing my gift resting on her skin right out here in the open.
Jordyn hustles Stella onto a platform in front of the full-length mirror, hushing her protests. My girlfriend stills completely when she sees her reflection, her lips puffing open in surprise.
It’s a wonder that my heart hasn’t climbed out through my mouth and taken off running on little legs toward the dressing room. As the man who has been seeing Stella naked on a regular basis since Monday, I am not surprised that she looks so beautiful. Not a smidge. Whether she’s moaning against the tile wall in my shower, drifting off to sleep to one of my Aunt Edna stories or staring out the window of my living room, brow wrinkled in thought, she’s never not messing with my pulse. Clothed, unclothed, the damn thing is erratic twenty-four seven. At this point, I’m pretty sure I’d cause an EKG machine to start smoking, so no. I’m not shocked in the slightest that she looks like an angel in the dressing room mirror.
But damn, watching Stella notice her own beauty? Watching her turn a little and look over her shoulder to see things from the back? I feel like I’m being let into the place where she’s afraid to let me go.
Our eyes meet in the mirror and just for a second, I am let in.
There’s surprise at seeing me, but then…it fades to wonder. Like she’s saying, “Can you believe this?” And I nod in response, because I can. I believe anything when it comes to her.
“Mr. Cook,” Jordyn says, following Stella’s line of vision and noticing me, where I stand spellbound in the middle of Womenswear. “We’re the only ones in this fitting room. Come here and give us a male perspective.”
A trio of older women walk by, glancing between me and Stella. Whispering to each other with knowing expressions. And I can’t help but tug the side of my shirt collar anxiously. I’m standing out like a sore thumb in women’s petites, aren’t I?
But it looks like Stella is hesitating to buy the dress, even though she clearly loves it, so I swallow my qualms with approaching a customer dressing room and stride my way through the racks until I’m stopped just outside.
Ah Jesus, she looks even more incredible up close.
“Help me out, Mr. Cook.” Jordyn sidles up to me, arms crossed. “Stella needs something to wear tonight to the Christmas party. Tell me this isn’t the perfect dress. I’m wearing red sequins, so on top of making her extra stunning, she should offset me very nicely.”
Stella’s eyes catch mine in the mirror, her lips twitching. Mine do the same.
A couple sharing an inside joke.
I’m thinking about the diamond ring case again. God help me.
Jordyn elbows me in the side, surprising a chuckle out of me. We’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with each other since intervening on Stella’s behalf on Monday. In fact, the morning after the showdown, damn near every Vivant employee said good morning to me on my way up to the tenth floor. On Wednesday, I was invited to happy hour, an invitation I would normally decline, not wanting to be the boss putting a damper on everyone’s good time. But Stella was going to be there, so of course, I went. We sat next to each other without holding hands or touching and that might have felt unnatural, but what didn’t feel unnatural? Just talking to folks. Stella encouraged me to tell a group of salespeople about Aunt Edna and they actually seemed to enjoy it. One of them even said he was excited to introduce me to his partner at the Christmas party. It seems I’m not as much of an outsider as before.