Chapter Twelve

"Hey stranger," Scarlett stops in front of my desk, catching me by surprise.

My heart skips a beat as my eyes move from the computer to meet hers. I can look into her ocean-blue eyes all day, but I shouldn't.

"Have you been avoiding me?" She asks, pushing my notepad aside to sit on my table.

Yes, she's right in her observation. I have been avoiding her. I can't shake the feeling I am doing something wrong by not telling her about Tripp and the truth is I don't want to.

I also feel guilty when I am with Tripp as well. That's why I went to surprise him last night. I was so quick to pick a fight, so I won't feel guilty anymore, even that didn't work.

"Well, I can't if I don't want to get fired." I joke. She raises an eyebrow at me. I feel the nerves, upsetting my stomach. "Be-because you are my boss." I stutter explaining the joke.

"I hope that's not the only reason you are around me." It looks more like a statement to her than to me. She's drawing circles on the table.

"That and the fact that you are the most interesting person in this company," I smile and softly, she smiles back.

She stands, "You should come to a yacht party an acquaintance of mine is throwing this Saturday."

Scarlett doesn't use the word friend a lot, which makes me wonder if I am her friend.

"Is it for work?" I ask.

Rich people's party is not exactly my scene. I will feel out of place.

"No, but you should still accompany me. Who knows, you might get inspiration for your art."

Speaking about my art, on a sunny Saturday, last weekend, I sat down alone in the apartment and started to sketch. I didn't even know what I was sketching about but it felt good having to pick up a pencil.

"Inspiration from whom, a dozen of rich snobs?" I blurt out.

"Ouch," She feigns hurt. "Careful there, you might also be referring to me."

You are my rich snob

Scarlett sighs, "The party is actually a divorce party. Anna, the woman who invited me, is throwing this part in a sad attempt not to appear unbothered that her ex-husband is fucking her step-brother."

"Whoa, "I say in genuine amusement.

"There are a lot more stories among the rich snobs, you just need them to be drunk enough to tell it."

Now, I am curious. What's Scarlett's story?

"So see you on Saturday?" She asks confident that she has swayed my decision.

And she has.

I nod. "What should I wear?"

"That won't be a problem. My driver will pick you up and take you to my place and we will find the perfect outfit.

~~~

"Have it," I stretch my arm to hand over a glass of water to Tripp who is busy writing a song.

Tripp closes his note bad and pushes his guitar to the side before he collects the bottle of water from my hand.

I have noticed he often does this, closing off his music from me. He used to show me what he is working on. He shows me everything. Maybe now he is too embarrassed by his dream of being a rock star.

I sit on the couch with him. "I have a yacht party to attend this Saturday."

Tripp turns to me, holding his laugh. "A yacht party?" He mocks.

He's probably thinking how I got invited to a yacht party. He's the social one and I am the introvert.

"Yes, my boss invited me to come." I say "It's a work thing." I quickly add.

Why did I just lie? It wasn't even necessary.

"Wow, a yacht party? That's my type of work thing." Tripp jokes, pushing his guitar forward. "You seem to spend a lot of time with this your boss. What is she like?" He pauses for a second. "She is a she right?" He asks panic written on his face.

"Yes, her name is Scarlett."

He breathes out in relief and then resumes making sounds from his guitar.

I wish it was that simple.

"She has you working overtime. She must be a big bitch." He comments.

Not to me, she is not.

"She is just – hardworking."

"Babe, she is not here. You can call her a bitch if you want."

I don't say anything. I don't like the way he is talking about her, I feel defensive. But then he hasn't met her and anything I mention about her, I attach it to a "work thing".

"I am thinking of getting box braids, it's been a while. I just don't want to color to do." I change the topic.

"Hmm, are you allowed to do that?" He gives me a questioning look.

"Braid my hair? I am pretty sure I am."

I think sometimes he forgets I am mixed. I sometimes forget I am mixed. I do act like a white woman, but then I was raised by one.

"Oh, I do remember seeing you on braids. The first time I met you had braids on, it was cute."

That summer we went to our grandma's house. She took us to get our hair done, I was so tender-headed. I wonder what Grandma Jack would have thought of me when dad told her I ran away with a white man.

Always felt she didn't like me, I wasn't black enough for her. Even dad wasn't black enough for her.

"It was cute." I simply say.

~~~

I walk into the most magnificent house I have ever been in. I scan the house in awe. There I thought the outside was insane, the inside is simply splendid.

Of course, Scarlett lives in a mansion.

My jaw has literally been on the floor since I walked in.

"Mrs. Bell will join you shortly." The woman that opened the door for me earlier informs me

I walk up to the glass wall where I can see the beautiful backyard and pool through it.

"Hey there," Scarlett's voice comes from behind.

Startled, I turn immediately at the sound of her voice. I put my hand on her chest, dramatically.

My eyes go to the tiny piece of silk nightgown she is wearing, she has a pair of ducky socks on and her hair falls gracefully down her shoulders.

She looks perfect.

Much calmer, "Holy shit your house is amazing." I say still looking around.

"Thank you," she says with a smile on her face. "O my God, I love your hair." She compliments.

Yes, I did the braids.

"Thank you, I wasn't sure about the color."

My braids are brown and gold to match my hair but I feel like should have gone with black.

"It's perfect. Let's go?" She gestures at the helical staircase and for me to follow her.

"You live here on your own?" I ask, following behind.

"With a few staff,"

To be this rich,

"Why did you get a house so big?" I find myself asking out loud.

"I wanted a big house because I needed a sense of permanence. I needed to have it at the back of my mind that there was no going back, to mum or the company. I don't want to be able to pick up and leave plus I can afford it."

"It's absolutely beautiful." I compliment again.

"Let's go pick out what we're going to wear." She says as we climb the stairs.

I look down at my blue sundress dress. It is not expensive but it's decent. "I'm dressed," I say.

"Oh sweetie, you are not." Scarlett pouts, "Let's go?" She takes my hand and drags me up the stairs.

~~~~

"That place is toxic and draining, why would I even want to go back there?" Scarlett rants about their mother's company and the fight she has with her mum.

While I am lost and hypnotized by every move Scarlett makes. We are in a wardrobe that looks like a boutique and Scarlet has been removing clothes from the hanger and putting it on the dressing table.

There is this thought that came into my head earlier. I don't know exactly what it is and it means but I find myself wondering how it would feel like to kiss Scarlett.

Shit!

I am trying to push it at the back of her mind. I really am trying. But then Scarlett looks so ethereal in her red flowing robe, and silk gown, her blonde hair falling effortlessly on her shoulders accompanied by her smooth long legs.

I clench my thighs together as my thoughts become intense. What's wrong with me? Scarlett is literally just talking.

Maybe this is just normal. I mean look at her, Scarlett is literally a goddess so it's normal to feel these things.

Right?

"Who cares what stupid Ryan thinks? New York is far more interesting. "Scarlett says, biting down on a lip.

It's like she knows the effect she's beginning to have on me or am I imagining things?

I clear my throat, then turn to look at the clothes that are piled up by Scarlett.

"What are all these?"

"Clothes to try on of course, we have to pick the perfect outfits right?"

I sigh, looking at the pile of clothes once more. I am not one for dress-up but Scarlett has a way of making anything look fun.

"Yeah," I say in defeat.

"Not until we play some music first."

~~~

"And I was like-" Scarlett stops talking as she set her eyes on me coming out of the dressing room.

Her mouth hangs open as she takes in my appearance. Her reaction is a huge confidence boost. Initially, I was not sure about the dress.

"Whoa," That's the only thing that managed to get escape her lips.

"W-what? Do I look good?" I ask self-consciously under her adoring gaze.

"See for yourself." She directs me to the big mirror at the side.

I walk in front of it and Scarlett stands behind me to see my reaction.

"You look beautiful," She mutters.

I do look beautiful. It feels weird though, it's been a while since I have dressed up and looked this good. I usually wear shirts and pencil skirts to work every day and when I am at home I am in comfy loungewear.

This feels good.

I am wearing a green sleeveless free gown, silk, with a massive slit that stops mid-thigh at the front.

"Could you help zip it up?"

I soon regret my request when my breath seizes upon contact with Scarlett's fingers on my skin. I feel her long skinny fingers lingering on my back as she moves the zip slowly.

I feel this throb down my lower stomach which I try to control by taking a sharp breath in.

"You should let your hair down," She suggests as her fingers leave my skin.

I feel cold air hit the place where her fingers were. It's almost painful that it's no longer there.

I remove the hair band and let the knotless braid down. I shake my head, to let it all down. This makes Scarlett chuckle.

With my hair down, Scarlett moves a lot closer to me, "See, perfect," Scarlett whispers. I feel her hot breath fanning my shoulder.

Fuck!