The Little Black Dress (Love in Las Vegas)

Epilogue

Sophie

Three months later…

Jared: Are you almost done for the day?

Me: Patience, sir. I just have to finish scheduling Waverly’s social media posts for the week, then I’ll start getting ready.

Jared: And you’re going to wear it, right?

Me: Yes, Jared. I’m going to wear it.

Jared: Good. See you soon.

I toss my phone aside and refocus on my laptop. Working for Waverly these last few months has been a dream come true. She’s a joy, doesn’t demand too much of my time, and I get to work from home, for the most part. Plus, I get to go to book conventions with her and load up on signed copies of all my favorite authors’ books.

Like I said. A dream.

Jared found a new assistant after a few misses––and by misses, I mean women who thought they had a chance at him before he shut them down and fired their asses––and now he’s happy with Gracie, a sixty-three-year-old spitfire who doesn’t let him get away with being a grumpy ass in the office.

God, I love her.

Finishing up my work, I close the laptop with a sigh and push myself up from the new, comfy desk chair Jared surprised me with for my home office. Walking into my bedroom, I head for the closet and pull out my little black dress.

I know, I know. I swore I was going to burn it last time…and the time before that…but I just didn’t have it in me to do it. And I’m glad I didn’t because Jared insisted I wear it when he asked me over for dinner tonight. I balked, at first, but eventually caved.

I just hope things don’t go terribly wrong tonight. This will be the first time I’ve worn it since that disastrous dinner at Bethany’s house, and I’m positive there’s not an ounce of luck left in the thing. It might as well be a broken mirror…or a black cat.

The thought makes me smile as I pull off my yoga pants and t-shirt. Black cats aren’t so bad. Deuces and I have become fast friends, a fact that makes Jared chuckle every time he sees his pet curled up in my lap for a snuggle and a nap.

After a quick shower, I curl my hair into fat waves and apply a minimal amount of makeup. Jared loves it when I don’t hide my freckles under a mound of foundation. And I love seeing that light in his eyes when he notices them. Pulling on my prettiest bra-and-panty set, I put on the dress and stand before my mirror.

Bad luck or not, I still look damn good in this thing.

After grabbing my red heels from my closet, I head into the living room to grab my bag, my keys, and my phone. The device vibrates in my hand, and a new text from Jared pops up on the screen.

Jared: There’s a car waiting for you outside.

Me: Are you trying to hold me hostage at your house by forcing me to leave my car at home?

Jared: You know me so well, Red.

Me: LOL. Fine. I’ll take the car. Just know, I still have the rideshare app on my phone. I can call my own car at any time.

Jared: See you in a few.

I laugh as I tuck my phone into my bag. There’s already a change of clothes inside, since I know for fact I won’t be leaving Jared’s place tonight. No, I’ll be in his bed. Probably not sleeping. And I can’t fucking wait.

It’s been three days since I’ve seen him because of our conflicting schedules. Three days too long, if you ask me. I miss him, and I can tell he’s missed me, too.

Slipping my shoes on my feet, I grab my stuff and head out. When I step off the elevator, I see a sleek black limousine through the front windows. A man in a black suit is standing near the rear door, his hands folded behind his back.

“Fancy,” I whisper to myself.

“Miss Jameson?” the man asks when I step outside.

“Yes.”