Addicted to You (Swanson Court 2)

But what if she was? It was no big deal if one of Landon’s exes was involved in a charity he was hosting. It didn’t mean anything. My mind goes back to the woman from the picture, but before I start to dwell on the thoughts, I push them out of my mind, replacing them with Landon’s face from last night, how worried he’d been about me, and the intensity with which he’d made love to me this morning.

I resist the urge to find out more about Ava Sinclair, and at lunchtime, I go out with Chelsea and Sonali. Sonali’s skin is glowing from her cleanse, and she’s mulling over an offer she got to intern with the New York branch of a European fashion house. She sulks prettily and expresses her indecision in her crisp British accent.

“I hear you guys are partying all night Friday,” she says enviously. “I wish I could come, but I’m staying away from all my vices for a while. Part of my cleanse.”

“Oh!” I give her a sympathetic smile. “Well, I’m not partying all night, per se. I have to travel on Saturday.”

Chelsea frowns. “Where?”

I tell them about Landon’s opening night.

“Oh. I read about that.” Chelsea says. “The world, their mother, and all the family diamonds are going to be there.” She gives me a look. “What are you wearing?”

I shrug. “I haven’t decided.” I think of the card Landon gave me before we left his apartment. It was almost plain, embossed with the name of a store I’d never heard of. I knew of places like that, highbrow outfitters with direct contact with the best designers. I’d only have to call the number and I’d have something sublime to wear, paid for by Landon.

For some reason even I wasn’t sure of, I was hesitating, thinking instead of getting Aunt Jacie to hook me up with one of her many fashion industry contacts. It was a sure way to get a couture dress at a great price.

Chelsea is looking at me as if I’ve gone insane. “You haven’t…” she sighs. Sonali purses her lips, agreeing silently with whatever Chelsea is thinking. “I know what to do,” Chelsea says, her eyes shining. “We’ll go upstairs.”

My eyes widen. ‘Upstairs’ is Gilt Style, and the legendary closet that holds decades worth of designer clothes and accessories, worth millions. “No!” I exclaim, not sure if it’s even possible.

“Why ever not?” Even Sonali looks excited, “That place is a treasure trove.”

“I have a friend up there,” Chelsea declares with a wink. “Veronica Short, the head stylist who, lucky for you, owes me a favor.” She leans forward with an excited grin. “She’ll style you to within an inch of your life, Rachel. You’ll love it.”

“What kind of favor does she owe you?”

“Does it matter?” Chelsea grimaces. “What we want is for you to look like a billion dollars, and she can make that happen.”

That decides it. “Fine,” I agree. “When?”

“I’ll talk to her,” Chelsea promises.

AFTER work, Joe is there to take me home. Laurie isn’t back yet, so I’m left to prepare for Landon’s cocktail mixer alone. By the time he arrives to pick me up, I’m all dressed up and ready. My dress is vintage Balenciaga, courtesy of my mom. It’s a deep-blue, knee-length number with a neckline that’s just low enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. My hair hangs down to my shoulders in loose waves, and my jewelry is simple. Earrings and a matching bracelet.

When I open the door, Landon is standing there, devastatingly handsome in a black tux. His piercing gaze travels from my face to my dress and back up, and his eyes flare. “Rachel,” he says simply, taking my hand. “I’ll never get used to how beautiful you are.”

And I would never get used to the pleasure of knowing that he saw me as beautiful. “Thank you,” I reply, adding frankly, “You look fab, as usual.” It would never be possible to be in the same room with him without being overcome by his perfection.

His hands trail down my arm, his fingers lingering on my skin and making my body hum with pleasure. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

In the car, Landon’s eyes continue to devour me, feeding a flowering of delight in my belly. “You look like you’re about to jump my bones,” I tell him.

“I’m trying not to.” He laughs, the deep rumble making me smile with him. “We’re leaving as early as we can manage. I’m not spending valuable time at a party when I’d rather be with you.”

I run my tongue over my lower lip. “Now, I don’t want to go at all.”

He pulls me onto his lap, careful not to wreck my clothes or my hair. “I’m going to have a hard time surviving two days without you,” he murmurs. “What have you done to me?”

I raise a hand to smooth his silky hair. “I bewitched you,” I reply, although I’m certain that he’s the one who’s bewitched me.

He smiles. “You certainly did.”

I close my eyes and lean my forehead on his, and we stay like that for a few moments. “Just so you know, I’ll be having fun while you’re gone.” I give him a sly glance. “I’ll be out clubbing all night Friday. So I won’t miss you too much.”

“So I’ll be suffering alone.” He sighs. “I think you just broke my heart.”