Her dress was a true showstopper. It had a high, elegant neckline and slighty puffed, black lace sleeves that had been embroidered with stars and a swirling moon similar to van Gogh’s famous paintingThe Starry Night. The dress itself was a fit-and-flare type that hugged her arms and breasts, and showed off her slim waist before falling in a cascade of what looked like velvet from this distance. The designer had continued the stars-and-moon embroidery on the skirt and it ended at her ankles. He saw the pointed toes of her cream-colored leather stiletto-heeled boots peeking out from under the hem. And she held a vintage Chanel quilted chain bag in her hands.
Yet despite her poise and grace, the way she was standing there staring at him, she looked almost...nervous. Like maybe, despite the skullcap he had on, she could tell he’d changed his hair back to its normal color. Maybe she’d figured out who he was.
Or maybe not.
Regardless, tonight he was going to come clean about his real identity. But he didn’t want to do it in her apartment, which he’d been sharing with her for the last six months. He wanted the reveal of his true self to show all the parts he’d been hiding.
To that end, he’d pulled out all the stops. He had booked out the entire restaurant, dyed his hair back to its natural dark brown and shaved off the beard he’d been sporting since they’d first met. And as for his attire? He’d donned his signature designer Hugo Boss suit. He had an ad campaign with them that had launched over the Thanksgiving weekend, and ironically, he’d spotted the billboard on his way here tonight.
She smiled at him and he smiled right back at her as his eyes once again drank in the gorgeous woman standing before him. She had the fur muff that he’d given to her as a gift in her hands, and the long red velvet opera cloak that she loved to wear was over one arm.
When she noticed the horse-drawn coach behind him, she nodded.
“At first I was like, what the heck, now it makes sense,” she said as she walked toward him. When she got closer, he noticed that some snowflakes were stuck to her hair and he reached up to brush them off as he took her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Is it too cold for this?” he asked, gesturing to the horse and carriage.
“No way! I love this,” she gushed. “You look good in all black and clean-shaven. Almost like someone else I know... How did I never notice what a strong jawline you have?”
“Because you’re usually eyeing other parts of my body,” he said with a wink.
“That’s hardly my fault—you have a very fine ass.”
Sean laughed and helped her into the carriage, covering their legs with the thick wool blanket as soon as he joined her. The carriage driver handed them a thermos with hot chocolate in it, then turned and they were off.
He took a deep breath as he slid his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her into the curve of his body. For a moment, he knew if he just kept being Jack, nothing had to change. He could let go of his nerves and continue playing this part.
But for how long?
He couldn’t lie to her forever and he had to be back in LA at the end of the week to start doing press. He had to tell her tonight. There were no more excuses that even he could accept.
Sean wanted to be the romantic leading man that he’d played a time or two. He wanted Paisley to feel like she was the center of the universe and that his lie hadn’t been perpetrated to hurt her, but had been played out in order to protect her.
He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how his practical and frank girlfriend was going to react to that admission. The hard part was that he knew he should have said something sooner.
Like two weeks ago, when she’d invited him to spend Christmas with her. As she’d been lying in his arms in front of the electric glow of her plug-in fireplace, he’d felt closer to contentment than he’d ever felt before.
He had almost let the truth slip then, but didn’t. Until filming wrapped, he didn’t like to talk about his characters. And in truth, the man he’d been playing was very close to his Chicago persona, Jack. He could play up the fact that there were blurred lines. But the trust was more complicated and he prayed that Paisley would see that too, if she even talked to him after this evening.
“Your note was a bit cryptic,” she said.
“Was it?” he asked. “It was meant to be romantic.”
“I can see that now. But I wasn’t sure if you meant it as a big thank-you for six months of sex as you headed out the door or not.”
He winced. Had he given that vibe intentionally? Because he knew that once he told her who he was, everything would change. It didn’t matter that Paisley was different from the rest of the world. She understood celebrity and public image better than most. But it didn’t mean she was going to give him a free pass for not fessing up sooner.
“Glad you can see that now,” he said. “But I do have something big I want to share with you.”
“Good—me too,” she admitted.
She had big news? He had been so focused on this huge reveal he hadn’t really been paying as much attention to Paisley as he would have liked. Granted, he knew this thing between them wasn’t love; he just didn’t have that inside of him. Sean hadn’t grown up in a nurturing, loving home. And, as a result, he’d gotten good atactinglike he was in love, but the truth was he was pretty sure he’d never felt it. But he liked her. And he wanted to keep seeing her after he returned to his life in LA.
“Ladies first,” he said.
He told himself that was the gentlemanly thing to do. After all, he knew she’d been working harder than ever in the last few weeks, trying to land some clients outside of the Midwest. He’d listened to her plans for the future many nights while they’d been lying together in bed. He liked the way she dreamed and shared it with him.
It was so different from the women he’d known in LA. They were always telling him how he could help them get to where they wanted to be. But Paisley wasn’t looking for a shortcut.