B: Have you seen him? There’s no way it’s ewww!
Me: Are you gonna help me or not?
Violet: Of course. I’ll be there by the time you get home.
B: I’m already going through your closet!
Me: I’m not wearing anything crazy B!
B: Me? I’m insulted!
Violet: Don’t worry, we’ve got your back.
Me: Thank you both! See you at home.
There will be a million questions once I get home, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to need their moral support tonight. I may not understand exactly what’s going on between Archer and I but I know I want to make sure he can’t take his eyes off me.
∞
A few hours later, Bianca is putting the finishing touches on my makeup and I decide it’s a good thing I asked them for help. I would have been lost. What does one wear on a date with a billionaire? Normally, I would wear jeans and a nice top for a date, but Bianca has assured me that’s not good enough for tonight. Instead, I’m sporting a little black dress out of her closet. With a split neckline and a fit and flare skirt, it teeters the line of sweet and sexy. It falls a little shorter than mid-thigh on me, so I have to stop myself from continually trying to tug it down. Bianca is taller than I am, so I’m not sure how she gets away with walking around in this thing.
Violet is combing out the curls in my hair so that they fall in soft waves over my shoulders. With all the attention focused on me, it’s more like I’m getting ready to go to a school formal than a date. The swatch of red across my lips is normally much bolder than I would wear, but Bianca convinced me to step out of my comfort zone. Even I have to admit, it brings out the color of my eyes and adds a glow to my pale skin. I look good if I do say so myself.
I was right about having to answer a million questions. Between my two besties, it was like I was in the middle of the Spanish Inquisition. I’m pretty sure Bianca was going to have a heart attack when I told her about sleeping with him last weekend. She’s already been planning the bridesmaid dress she’s going to wear at my wedding but I put the kibosh on that real fast. The fact that I was going out with Archer at all was a minor miracle. I may have admitted to myself that I have feelings for him but could he ever feel the same way about me? To let myself think he wants anything long term would be a mistake and setting myself up for disappointment. I’ve decided to enjoy tonight’s dinner for what it is and try not to worry about anything beyond that.
As I’m slipping my ID and lipstick into my clutch, there’s a sharp knock at the door. A thrill runs through my body, leaving me slightly breathless. I’ve forbidden my roomies from entering the living room while he’s here. The last thing I need is them gawking at him.
I take a calming breath and open the door. His frame almost fills the doorway, blocking out the last remaining rays of sunlight. He’s changed from the suit he was wearing at the office into a pair of dark denim jeans and a black button-down shirt with a blazer on top. The ends of his hair are still damp, indicating that he just got out of the shower. He looks good enough to eat and I plan on doing just that right after dinner.
“You look beautiful,” he says. The weight of those golden-brown eyes on me is heavy as they roam over my body almost like a physical touch and I feel my cheeks heat. This man seems to have me constantly blushing. If this keeps up, I’m going to have to invest in a redness reducing foundation.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” I smile up at him playfully. “I don’t know where we’re going, so I hope this dress is okay. Do you think I should change?”
“You’re perfect. I was planning to go back to my place and cook, actually. If that’s alright with you?”
He sounds a little hesitant, like he’s worried that I’ll balk at going to his house. Little does he know, I’m extremely relieved. I don’t have to worry about dropping food in my lap in front of an entire restaurant, just him. Sure, I enjoy going to nice places once in a while, but all I care about is spending time with Archer, alone tonight. Now that I’ve admitted to myself that I care about him, I want to learn more about him. Spending the evening with only the two of us sounds like a good way to do that.
“Of course, that sounds great.” I smile at him reassuringly. I can physically see the tension that was in his shoulders melt away.
“Wait, you cook more than just eggs?” I ask incredulously.
“Why Hollie, are you trying to say that you don’t think that I have the skill set? I’m truly hurt.” He places his hand over his heart like I’ve wounded him.
I laugh and bump into him with my hip on the way out the door. “I’ll believe it when I see it, mister.”
Eighteen
archer
The drive back to my house is filled with pleasant, light chatter between the two of us. Even though we’re talking about nothing of consequence, I’m absolutely floored. She’s barely spoken to me in a week if it wasn’t about work. Now I have her in my car, headed to my home, and she seems… at ease. If I never see cold, professional Hollie again, it will be too soon.
Once in the kitchen, I pull out ingredients for Spaghetti Bolognese, garlic bread, and a garden salad. Sure, it’s simple, but I’ve made this for myself enough times that I won’t burn the water at least. I could have taken Hollie anywhere, to the most expensive restaurant in the city, private restaurants she would only ever experience because she was there with me. I was about to reserve a private dining room at Aerlume but changed my mind at the last minute.
I wanted Hollie to realize there was more to me than money. She’s never given any indication she was overly interested in my wealth, but over time, it’s like money has almost become a personality trait for me as far as women are concerned. Now, that’s not to say it’s entirely their fault. I didn’t let any of them close enough to me to know much else. I took them out, wined and dined them, and showed them the good time my money could afford them. It was important Hollie not see me the same way those women did. I wanted more from her. I wanted all of her.
Hollie sets down her purse on the counter and hops up onto the same barstool she sat on the morning after the night she spent here weeks ago.It looks like she’s found her place in my kitchen and she fits perfectly.
“You can throw something on the television in the living room while I get this together. It shouldn’t take too long.” I pull a bottle of rich Merlot from the wine rack, pop the cork, and pour us each a glass, placing hers on the counter in front of her.