But the pièce de resistance came when Diane brought out an evening gown for the black-tie shareholders’ gala. Tears unexpectedly sprang in Holly’s eyes at the artistry of it. She couldn’t fathom ever needing a dress so fancy.
It was a pearly sky-blue completely covered in hand-sewn crystals. Holly was surprised at how much the gown weighed. Sleeveless with a deep-scooped neck, it skimmed the floor until Diane had her step into coordinating high-heeled sandals.
Whether the dress complemented Holly’s icy blue eyes or her eyes enhanced the dress, it didn’t matter. There couldn’t be a more perfect gown.
She hoped Ethan liked it.
As she stepped into the lounge to model it for him, she wanted to be sure that she was wearing the gown rather than the gown wearing her. Standing up straight, with her shoulders back, Holly reminded herself of what she had learned from the posture correction videos that had helped her rid herself of her slump. Stand tall. Ribs over hips. Hips over heels.
She smiled demurely at Ethan as she approached.
He hiccupped as he almost choked on his sip of champagne.
Holly giggled. She high-fived herself in her mind. Mission accomplished.
She cooed, high on a unique rush of power she’d never known she had, “Do you still want to marry me?”
Ethan set his champagne flute down on the side table and cleared his throat. “You have no idea...”
* * *
“One more stop and then we will go to dinner,” Ethan said as he ushered Holly back into the car.
Leonard shut the passenger door, then went around to slide into his place behind the wheel. He deftly maneuvered them away from the curb to join the Fifth Avenue traffic.
Ethan was thinking ahead. “What else do you need for the gala? I assume you would like to have your hair and makeup done?”
“Please.”
“I will have Nathan book that.”
Holly held her hands up in front of her. There was often a rainbow of colors staining her fingers and nails, but today it was just the Cobalt Two Eleven leftover from last night’s spill. “And I think I need a manicure, don’t you agree?”
“The way you look in that gown, I doubt anyone would notice.”
No fair for him to say things like that. Things that made her want to lean over and cover his luscious lips with an hour-long kiss. Not fair at all for him to speak words that made her contemplate what it would be like to be with someone who made her feel good about herself. Who was on her side.
Not just for business purposes.
Gridlocked traffic was only allowing them to inch forward. The rain had ceased for the moment but the sky was a thick grey. Throngs of pedestrians rushed to and fro. Some darted across the streets, jaywalking quickly in between cars. Horns honked. Drivers yelled at each other. Music blared from taxicab radios. A siren screamed.
Together, it sounded like a riotous symphony. New York was alive and kicking.
One minute she had been crammed into an economy seat on a packed airplane, headed for the Big Apple and who knew what. And then a minute later she was modeling a jewel-encrusted evening gown for a young billionaire.
A smokin’ hot young billionaire who had ogled her as if he not only wanted to see those clothes on her, but also wanted to see them in a heap on the floor beside his bed.
By the end of her fashion show Holly had been imagining it as well. How it might feel to have Ethan’s big and no doubt able hands unzipping the zippers and unbuttoning the buttons of those finely crafted garments.
How far would it be safe to go with this charade they had embarked on? Surely not as far as clothes being strewn at the bedside.
Holly was going to have to learn to regally accept a peck on the cheek in front of other people without melting into a puddle of desire. She might have to place a reciprocal smooch on Ethan’s face at some point. If push came to shove she might even have to receive a kiss on the lips at, say, the shareholders’ gala when their engagement was announced.
She had no idea how she’d handle that, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it. However, under no circumstances would her make-believe fiancé’s tuxedo—or anything else of his—end up crumpled at the foot of her bed.
No one would ever see them behind closed doors. And she’d do well to remember that to a man like Ethan Benton this was all just a deal. A game. A con. He’d only go as far as was absolutely necessary to do what he deemed right for his aunt Louise’s future.
Holly would keep her eye on the prize. A great place to live, steady work, a leg-up for Vince. That was more than she could have ever hoped for. Let alone on her first day here. That was enough. That was astounding.
“Out.” Ethan opened the car door in the middle of the street. “This traffic is unbearable. We will go on foot.”
“What?”
He firmly grasped Holly’s hand and slid them out of the backseat. “Leonard, meet us in front,” he instructed, before thumping the door shut. He tugged Holly. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” she asked as he ushered her to the sidewalk.
“I told you. One more stop.”
They joined the masses of legs charging north on Fifth Avenue. New Yorkers during rush hour. Always in a hurry. Always somewhere to go. The air was cold. The pace was exhilarating.
Maybe this would become home. Maybe this enthralling city itself would fill up the emptiness she’d always had inside.
Two blocks later she stopped dead in her tracks. They had arrived at their destination. She looked up to take in the majesty of the Art Deco architecture. The bronze sculpture of Atlas holding up the building’s clock. The elaborate window displays.
People were moving in and out of the store’s entry doors. Many of those leaving held the light blue shopping bags that were known the world over.
“I do not suppose it would do for my fiancée to wear an engagement ring made from a beer bottle wrapper,” he said, and winked.
So he hadn’t brought her to a jewelry store to get a ring. He’d brought her to THE jewelry store.
Ricky had never given her an engagement ring. They’d waited for a sale at the jewelry store in their local mall and bought the two cheapest gold bands there. It had only been last month that she’d gotten around to selling hers for bulk weight to help pay for her plane ticket to New York.
Now she was standing in front of the most well-known jewelry store in the world! Little blue bags!
Inside, Ethan gave his name and they were immediately escorted to the private salon. A man in a pinstriped suit introduced himself as Jeremy Markham.
Again Holly remembered hearing Ethan on the phone that morning with his assistant, Nathan, mentioning a Diane and a Jeremy. Diane was clothes...obviously Jeremy was jewels. Ethan had everything figured out.
“Jeremy, we will need some help with a wardrobe of jewelry in the weeks to come, but today we would like to choose a diamond ring.”
“Of course, sir. May I present a selection?”
Ethan nodded.
A private appointment to pick out an engagement ring? Ho-hum, just an ordinary day.
“Please, sit down.” Jeremy, chin up high, held a chair out for Holly after giving her a once-over. Like Diane with the clothes, had this salesman who clearly