He winks. “But you like it.” Dropping a kiss on my lips, he says, “Fix your make-up. I made a stunning mess of your face.”
Without another word, he walks to the bathroom, leaving me sitting wide-legged on the vanity with my dress hitched up over my hips. I press my knees together, push off the vanity, and pull down my dress. Turning, I study my reflection. The dress is a little creased, but it’ll have to do.
As fast as I can, I touch up my make-up. There’s no time to do something with my hair, so I brush it out and let it hang loose down my back.
Leon returns, dressed in a black suit, crisp white shirt, and bowtie. His dark hair is brushed back. He looks mouthwatering delicious, and for the first time in my life, I experience a jolt of premature and unjustified jealousy.
The object he carries in his hand draws my gaze. I home in on the blue box. I was going to tell him he looks handsome, but my words dry up as he stops short of me.
He gives me a boyish smile. “Can I have one more chance at this?” When I don’t reply, he asks, “Do you know when I got these from Damian?” He continues without waiting for my answer. “The day after the very first time I saw you. I already knew then.”
I don’t ask what he knew because I’m scared to know.
He flips back the lid. “If I tell you how much I wanted to give them to you, will you wear them for me?”
I have a rule about never saying never. It’s not the first time I break a promise I made myself, but there’s never been more at stake. Like he forgave me, I forgive him too, consenting with a nod.
His smile is soft as he hands me the box. He takes one earring and fits it into my ear before doing the same with the other.
“They look great on you,” he says, taking the box and leaving it on the vanity.
I turn to look at myself in the mirror. The diamonds sparkle in my ears, their light pure and clear.
Pulling back his sleeve, he checks his watch. “I’ll pull the car out of the garage. You better grab your portfolio.”
As I don’t have a clutch bag that matches the dress, I throw my lipstick and brush in a tote bag and hurriedly pull on a clean pair of panties before making my way downstairs. The roar of Leon’s car already sounds from outside when I enter his study.
My drawing pad lies on his desk, open on the page where he drew his stickman. My heart constricts with an inexplicable emotion that makes me want to wrap my arms around Leon and hold him close. Sometimes, I forget that he’s just a man, and that even big, powerful men need comfort.
Grabbing the folder with my sketches, I gently insert it into the bag, and then I make my way to the front door where Leon is waiting for me. He locks up and sets the alarm before leading me to the car.
We make it to our destination without breaking the speed limit and with five minutes to spare. Vero lives in an old part of Parktown. The double-story mansion is built on three thousand square meters of land. The garden is neatly cultivated with a green lawn and colorful flowers. My favorite part is the giant oak trees lining the driveway.
A doorman stands ready when Leon parks the car. He sees us inside and tells us to make ourselves at home. When I ask where I can leave my tote bag, he shows me a cloak room that’s twice the size of our bedroom.
Taking my arm, Leon leads me into a lounge that’s already packed with people dressed in evening wear. Waiters walk around with trays of cocktail food and drinks. Leon takes two glasses of Kir Royal from a passing waiter and puts one in my hand.
From across the room, I spot Vero talking to a group of men. She’s wearing a red dress that hugs her curves, and her strawberry blond hair is taken up in a stylish ballerina bun. With smoky eye-shadow and red lipstick to round off her appearance, she looks like she belongs on the cover of a fashion magazine.
Catching my gaze, she waves and curls a finger to call us over.
She offers us a warm smile when we reach her. “You found drinks. Good. Leon, I’d like to introduce you to my husband, James. He’s an artificial intelligence engineer for Denel Aeronautics. The two of you have lots to talk about.”
She hooks her arm through mine and whisks me away, weaving a path around the mingling people. “You look stunning. Great dress.”
I pull at the hem. “Thanks. So do you. How on earth did you get ready so quickly when you left work later than me?”
“Private hairdresser and beautician.” She winks. “Time is money, as the saying goes.”
I glance over my shoulder to where Leon is conversing with James, a tall man with salt and pepper hair and gray eyes.
“He’ll be fine,” Vero says. “James is a great host. Did you bring some of your sketches?”
“They’re in my tote bag in the cloak room.”
“Excellent.”
She pulls me through a door into a library with dark wood furnishings and thick red rugs. Two men are conversing in front of a desk, a tumbler with amber liquor in each’s hand.
My throat is suddenly too dry. Tipping my glass, I gulp down the blackcurrant-flavored champagne.
“Ethan, darling,” she says, leading me to a man wearing a tux and a paisley bowtie. “This is Violet Hart, the colleague I wanted you to meet.”
The other man inclines his head and leaves quietly.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” she says, flashing us a bright smile before sweeping from the room.
A moment of awkward silence follows as Ethan Meyer and I face each other. He’s shorter than I pictured him. He looks taller in his media photos.
I swallow. Shall I shake his hand? Deciding against it, I say, “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Meyer. I’m a big fan of your work and your clients.”