Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to live with a low level of paranoia. To feel safe by yourself in a world that leers, jeers, and interferes when you are just trying to walk around in peace.
What must it be like to walk a few blocks late at night without being afraid? What must it be like to not feel like you need to check for exits when you walk into a room filled with bigger, stronger people that look at you like you are a piece of meat to be devoured? What must it be like to wear a cute outfit and not have people catcall you? I think it would make you less angry, less afraid, less expectant that the world was out to hurt you.
But that wasn't the world I lived in and if that driver thought I was gonna get into his car, with the promise of taking me to the man who had made my life hell, he had another thing coming. I would much rather be rude than dead. EVERY. TIME. That guy either thought I was an idiot, or overly curious. And yes I was curious, but my self-preservation won out.
I narrowed my eyes, making it clear that his friendly smile wasn't welcome. "You must be on something big if you think I'm getting in that car."
Raising myself to my full height, I continued. "Feel free to tell your unstable boss that I'd rather dive headfirst into a pool of porcupines and sandpaper than spend a second with that hack."
The driver's eyes grew wide, either from shock at my audacity at insulting his boss, or the creativity in my insult. It was a good line. I hope it's the second.
Spotting my Uber pulling up to the curb, I gave Laurence's lackey a sweet smile. "Have a wonderful day!" I cooed, voice thick with sarcasm before turning on my heels and climbing inside my actual Uber, leaving the crazy driver gawking from his car. Ha!
I am never going to spend a single second with Laurence Royal.
But even as my ride drove towards my office, I wondered what Laurence's proposition was. What does that dumb dumb think he can offer me? It nagged at me like a splinter under my skin that I could feel but couldn't remove.
I settled in at my office, and after several attempts, pushed thoughts of Laurence, Tate, Laliana, and all the drama that I had stumbled into aside, pulling out my masterpiece. A secret piece I had been working on when no one was around.
I was surprised that it was fully intact. It was one of the only items that Laurence's team hadn't destroyed when they broke in. I had left my project in a secret compartment in my office because you know, I am a paranoid lady of chaos. Paranoia for the win! Gathering up the fabric in my arms, I shook it out.
Pulling it onto a mannequin in my office, I stared at the long intricate ball gown. The one I had designed for the Masquerade Fashion Show.
Black lace covered a deep red dress, creating the illusion of bright embers sparkling brightly in a dying fire. The top was cut to look like flower petals weaving across the bodice. There were no straps, giving the top clean lines.
The waist pulled in before flaring out below the hips, creating a beautiful hourglass shape and allowing the wearer to use any shoes they wanted as it ended at the floor. The wide flair allowed the user to sit however they wanted and the dress had pockets because every dress in the world was superior with pockets. It was like giving a girl superpowers.
I still had to make gloves and finishing adding lace to most of the dress. It was going to take a while with an injured wrist. But I had no interruptions and two days of silence ahead. Heaven.
But just as I was settling in, needle lifted up to strike the fabric and force it to do my bidding, my phone buzzed, shattering my single moment of peace.
Tate: Whhhhaaaat's happening Fire Hydrant Girl?!?
"Of course it's you..." I muttered. Raising a brow, I shot off a text.
Allie: Umm... working?
Tate: Is that a question?
His answer was instant. Does this dude not have a life?
Allie: Working.
Tate: On such a beautiful day?!?
Allie: Somebody has to work around here.
Tate: I know! And you are stealing my income! Psh. Insisting I take a day off like some lazy person.
Allie: *eye roll* You'll survive. I took an Uber to work. You know, the other service that has drivers that don't sing and talk your ear off...
Tate: Ouch. You wound me.
Allie: I highly doubt it.
Tate: Working on anything fun?
Allie: I'm currently struggling through a project, ignoring my wrist pain. You are missing nothing of value. Go bother someone else.
Tate: I don't just drive you around for my entertainment. That is a ridiculous way to make money.
Allie: But you totally would if you could.
Tate: You speak true things.
Tate: So you're just gonna ignore your wrist pain and power through?
Allie: You just gonna ignore your face pain and continue to be an ass?
Tate: I am hardly a donkey, but yes to ignoring. Talk later Fire Hydrant Girl. Hope work goes well.
I snorted, staring down at our text conversation, trying not to smile at the irritating nickname that had become part of my life. Trying not to smile at how easy it was to fall into a conversation with Tate. Smiling against my better judgment because I knew there was a very good chance that Tate was taken and I was just digging myself into a crush hole that would hurt like a jackhammer if I didn't get it under control. Stupid crush. Just die already.
Settling back down at the bottom of the dress, I slowly began to sew on the intricate details, enjoying the warm sunshine that cut through my small office window. Normally I would use a sewing machine, but the lace was delicate, and if I tugged on the line while using the sewing machine, the lace would rip. So I was in for the long, slow game.
When I was halfway done with the bottom, fingers nearly numb, my stomach growled, angry at being ignored for so long.
Standing up, I nearly fell over, legs completely asleep after sitting on the ground for too long. Taking a moment to try and get my legs to work again, I blasted "High Horse," by Kacey Musgraves and waddled around the office, attempting to dance my legs back into working mode.
I felt like a zombie, dead-legged and off-balance as I tried to move gracefully, laughing at the image of a zombie dancing. One of the many reasons why working alone is awesome. No one judges your zombie dance moves.
As Kacey dove into the chorus, I joined in, singing along as my legs finally woke up. I turned into a spin, strands of my hair flying around my face, cutting across the sunlight.
"So why don't you giddy up, giddy up,
And ride straight out of this town.
You and your high horse!"
I broke into a shimmy and suddenly heard a small tap on the glass at the front of the office building. I nearly tripped as I spotted Tate smiling at me through the glass, trying not to laugh.
I swore, cutting off the music. Is there no place in this world that won't result in Tate seeing me do something stupid?!?!
I gawked for a moment, my face red, like I'd been caught with my hand in a cookie jar. Nope. Much worse. He caught my terrible, uncoordinated dance moves. The worst part about it was I was a pretty good dancer, but Tate's timing was the worst, making me look like an idiot.
I slowly walked towards the front door, like someone walking towards a guillotine, mentally preparing to be killed. You know you can't just pretend it isn't going to happen, you just have to try and not lose it.
Tate had seen me. I may as well figure out what he wanted.
Pushing the door open, I peeked my head through, making no move to let him inside. "Can I help you, Convertible guy?"
His hair was a wild mess of styled bed head, his chestnut strands swept up and out of his face. He wore a white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up his forearms, making his scars visible, no longer hidden by his long sleeves. He looked more comfortable, relaxed than he did when he wore a suit.
His hands looked like they were caked in a powdery substance, making him look like either a baker or a drug dealer? I'm going to go with baker. He doesn't really seem like a drug dealer.
I spotted several bags in his hands. "That depends..." With an easy swing of the contents, a mischievous smile played against his lips like he was either going to make my day, or utterly ruin it depending on what his master plan of showing up on his day off was.
"Are you open to having someone else be in your office today? Or is this a..." he waved one of his hands, bag bouncing wildly. "Leave me to have a freaking moment of peace Tate, kind of day?"
I hesitated. He was giving me a choice. Letting me make the call on my own emotional boundaries for the day. It was the only reason I didn't snort and slam the door. "Are you here to help, or hinder?" I asked.
He smiled widely, hand on his heart, bright emerald eyes sincere, soft. "Always to help."
I hovered between letting him in but desperately needing to get things done. I was behind as it was, and he was a distraction. A beautiful one yes, but still a distraction. Utterly sexy, utterly distracting man.
Tate held up the bags and continued, sensing that he needed to make his case fast before the window of opportunity closed. "I brought you sustenance and a wizard who can sew anything!"
It was then that I finally realized someone else was with him. A fifteen-year-old girl offered me a wide, award-winning smile. She had long dark curly brown hair that bellowed down her shoulders and bright green eyes that stared at me, wide-eyed. "Allie Winters!" She squeaked. Her eyes bounced to Tate. "I thought you were joking. I didn't know you knew anyone this cool."
Tate snorted. "This is my cousin, Iz."
Iz smiled wider. "I can see that you don't trust his reference. I don't blame you. He's a goober and talks WAY too much. Tate said you may need some help because you hurt your wrist and I am really good at sewing things. "
I looked her up and down, assessing this fifteen-year-old that was declaring herself as an expert. "Cocky much?"
She pushed her long hair out of her face, smile turning cocky. "Nope. It's called knowing myself and what I can do. Nothing wrong with speaking well about yourself."
I instantly liked her. She had a witty edge to her that made it impossible not to like. I stepped out of the doorway. "You can come in."
Iz turned and shot a smirk at Tate. "And that's how you make a good first impression. Take notes buddy." Then she skipped past me and laughed at her cousin.
I looked back at Tate when he tried to walk in too. I held up my hand, stopping him. "And what's your offering to try and gain entry?"
Tate walked up to me, until my hand which was still held up, rested on his chest. I could feel his strong heartbeat under my fingertips. He stared deep into my eyes, then slowly leaned close to my face. He whispered, his voice soft, and seductive. "Chocolate cake."
Dang, it. My weakness.
The way he said it caused... lots of inappropriate level thoughts. Like those chocolate commercials where the chocolate is melted and is being poured like a waterfall, but instead of it being poured into more chocolate, it's just being pored all over Tate and he may or may not have been shirtless in this particular image. I need help.
The way he said chocolate cake, eyes dark, voice deep, was almost as good as taking an actual bite of dark chocolate, the flavor coating your tongue and sending a trail of pleasure through your body.
I wanted him to say more sexy things. To take everything I loved and say it slowly, staring into my eyes with an unashamed all-consuming gaze that threatened to set me on fire. You should probably slam the door in his face before you do something stupid.
I swallowed. "You can come in," I heard myself say, my mouth betraying my self-preservation skills. Traitor!
My voice cracked, and I quickly walked inside, not trusting myself to look him in the face any longer. If I did, I'd be tempted to stare at his mouth. Which was too alluring at the moment. I wanted to kiss it.
Just focus on the dang cake he brought Allie. There's someone else here. You can't go crazy and jump on him because he brought you cake. That can't possibly be the reason you lose your cool. Even if him remembering your favorite food is sweet, and him bringing someone to help you work is sweet, and everything about him is sweet. Gosh, he's so freaking sweet.
It was enough to make my chest hurt. His kindness was going to carve out my insides, to make room for feelings that had nearly destroyed me years before.
I spotted Iz staring at one of the mannequins, taking in a peacoat I had designed a few seasons ago. It was one of my favorite pieces and had become a source of inspiration and pride to start designing clothing for men too.
Iz stared at the long coat for a beat, her eyes focused taking in the piece with a trained eye, and then jumped back, clapping her hands together. "YOU WATCH K DRAMAS DON'T YOU!" she squeaked.
"This looks like something Lee Jong-suk would wear in Romance is a Bonus Book!"
My mouth fell open. That had been one of the inspirations for that coat. I had a serious crush on Lee Jong-suk. "Yes," I managed before joining Iz by the coat.
Iz pumped her fist into the air. "I knew it! Only someone who likes k dramas would design something so awesome."
And much to my own surprise, I blushed, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Thanks."
"He has a nice mouth," Iz said, eyes back on the coat.
I tilted my head, confused. "What?"
"The actor Lee jong-suk. He has a nice mouth."
I heard Tate groan behind me. "Iz, come on. I don't want to hear that."
"You're right," I said and turned to smile at Tate. "Lee Jong-suk really does have a fantastic mouth."
Tate's eyes were unreadable as I continued. "He has that kind of mouth that you just want to explore for hours."
I heard Iz snort behind me, laughing.
Tate let out a huff of breath, looking away as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Well on that note, I'm gonna go..." He looked over at Iz.
"Scared you off?" I teased.
He shook his head, his smile making his eyes crinkle at the edges, and a set of dimples hitting his cheeks. "Nope. I just have plans that I can't miss. Don't feel like getting killed today."
My heart sank as the image of Laliana came to mind, Tate's arms around her at the movie premiere. He had missed plans with her the night before. Was he going to be with her again now? I shouldn't have been jealous, but the irrational part of me was. And it was not my favorite feeling.
We looked at each other, both quiet for a moment. Tate hesitated, sensing that I was unhappy but when I didn't admit to it, he continued. "You told me to go bother someone else right? Just obeying orders." He shot me a mock salute before turning back to Iz. "Text me when you are ready to be picked up."
Then he looked back at me. "If she does anythingâ"
"I won't!" Iz interrupted. "Why on earth would I do something stupid when I am getting to help Allie Winters create something beautiful? That would be insane. Byeeee Tate!" She pushed him towards the front door, talking over him as he continued to shout, in an attempt to embarrass her before she had him fully out the door, shoving it closed between them.
Then I was left alone with a fifteen-year-old girl who was either going to help me create something beautiful, or would accidentally destroy what I had been working on in secret that had to be showcased in front of the fashion world. I guess I was about to find out which.
At least I had chocolate cake to eat away my feelings if this ended badly.
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Thank you for reading chapter nineteen! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
It looks like we've met one of Tate's family members!
What do you think of Iz? Do you think she will help Allie? Or even better, offer insight into Tate?
What do you think Laurence Royal's proposition is?
Have you heard "Kacey's Musgraves "High Horse"? Well if you want to know what Allie was singing while she tried to dance her legs awake, take a listen to the song below!
CHAPTER QUESTION - Has your leg ever fallen asleep? What do you do to wake it up?