He gives me a smile. "Shopping. You deserve a reward for your performance earlier. Anything you want, ma belle."
I don't have a chance to ask if he means my performance in the boardroom – or the bedroom. Before I can object, Dominic leads me into the first boutique. A well-dressed woman meets us and immediately showers me in a flurry of French.
"I'm sorry," I mutter, embarrassed. "I don't-"
"But of course." She switches to English. "Come this way." She leads me to a luxurious dressing room. The light blue walls are lined with displays of gorgeous formal gowns.
Dominic takes a seat on a plush settee and folds his hands. He's enjoying this, and I'm completely overwhelmed. She begins flipping through stunning gowns, chattering mostly to herself. Where would I ever wear one of these? The gala, perhaps.
If I were going. But am I?
This feels like high school prom all over again.
I haven't been invited, and I won't just assume that I am. I'm trying very hard not to assume anything about, well, anything, when it comes to Dominic.
She holds dresses up, but I try to discourage her. I can already tell, these cost more than my annual salary. Silk, satins, incredible velvet with a swooping neckline and a hem that splits up the thigh for days …
I look at Dominic. He's nodding. "Are you sure?" I check.
"Anything you want," he says, like an order.
Well, I guess I don't have a choice.
I try on several gowns, modeling each for Dominic. The look on his face excites and humbles me. The way he's staring at me with heat in his eyes, appreciating me … making me feel beautiful. Nothing works for a self-esteem boost than the hungry gaze of a handsome lover.
After the gowns, the assistant brings out dresses, shoes, bags. It's a dizzying array of glamor, like nothing I've ever experienced before, and I can't help but be swept up. I don't say a word, but Dominic nods in approval over certain outfits, and murmurs to the staff who rush to pack things up in tissue paper and elegant boxes. Soon, we're emerging from the store with a whole mountain of bags. I'm riding high by the time we get into the limo.
"I don't know what to say, Dominic. Thank you."
"Actually, you didn't get nearly enough." He grins. "When I said anything, I expected you to go a little crazy."
"This isn't crazy?" I look around at the bags and laugh. "Any more, and we wouldn't be able to fit them on the plane!"
"One of the perks of a private jet," Dominic agrees. "No excess baggage fees."
Dominic pulls a small gold box from his inside pocket. "To a job well done."
My pulse races as I take the box from him and untie the delicate ribbon. I lift the top, but I pause before opening it completely. Everything he's done for me, with me, has already been life-changing.
I kiss him lightly on the lips. "Thank you, Dom. I love it."
He looks confused. "You haven't even opened it yet."
"Exactly."
I finally lift the box and remove the paper. "Oh my God!" My mouth falls open. Inside, a diamond bracelet twinkles at me, set with tiny square-cut emeralds. The design has a delicate, antique quality to it, and my thoughts flicker again to the costume party at the Rexford.
Dom lifts it out and clasps it around my wrist. "What do you think?"
I'm surprised to see a flicker of uncertainty on his face, as if he's not sure I'll like it.
"It's perfect," I whisper, overcome. "I love it." I lean over and wrap my arms around him, resting my head against his chest. He holds me tenderly, and my heart feels so full it could burst.
We drive straight to the airport. Our things were packed up from the hotel, and are already loaded onto the jet when we arrive. I wish we could stay in Paris longer, but he's needed back in Chicago – and so am I. The big nineteen twenties themed party is at the Rexford tomorrow night, and I have a ton of coordinating to do in order to make sure it goes off without a hitch.
I fall asleep on the flight as soon as we take off, but wake sometime later. Dom is dozing in the seat beside me, leaning to drape an arm around my shoulders. I move a strand of hair away from his eyes and let my touch linger, enjoying this moment of him so vulnerable and defenseless.
He's a good man.
Kind when he thinks no one is looking, hardworking. Dedicated to his staff and his family legacy. It's not his money or his status that have taken ahold of my heart like this … hell, it's not even the amazing sex.
It's him. Only him.
Smiling, I lay back down and snuggle into him, drifting back to sleep. It only feels like minutes before the flight attendant wakes us and we land in Chicago. We're both still sleepy for the limo ride into the city, though he seems to recover better than I do. I guess he has more experience jet-setting around the world.
"Do you mind if we make a quick stop at the hotel before I drop you off at home?" Dominic asks. "I need to check on some things as soon as possible."
"Sure," I yawn. "Whatever you need."
The limo pulls in to The Rexford, and Dominic cups my face. "I hope you enjoyed yourself," he murmurs with a kiss.
"I really did."
His lips travel to my ear. "We'll have to repeat Paris sex very, very soon."
"God, I hope so."
We keep a slight distance between us as we walk into the hotel. I have to remember, we're not on vacation anymore. I'm back to being the intern now, but I don't mind. I have the sweetest memories of being his lover to hang onto.
"I'll wait down here," I tell him. From where I'm standing, the plush couches in the lobby look great to my tired eyes. "Take as long as you need."
Dominic begins to say something, but then he looks past me. The color drains from his face. He looks like he's seen a ghost.
"What is it?" I ask.
But I don't need to wonder for long. A stunning blonde saunters across the lobby, decked out in a white linen dress and massive sunglasses. She pauses in front of us, and slowly looks over the dark lenses at me. "Well, isn't this interesting."
I look at Dom, confused. The woman lets out a melodious laugh. "Oh, poor darling, he hasn't told you anything. Typical Dom, always likes to keep the upper hand."
She holds out a hand to me, and I can't help noticing that the diamond bracelet glittering on her wrist looks awfully familiar.
"I'm Lillian. Dominic's ex-wife."
Chapter Ten
Ex-wife? What the hell!
I'm still reeling from her bombshell when Dominic steps forward. "Emphasis on the ex," he growls.
"Always one for the details." Lillian keeps her sunny smile.
Dom isn't so friendly. "What do you want, Lillian?" He glares at her.
Lillian flips her hair, but her gaze doesn't move from my face. "You know, you look very familiar … "
I recover. "Umm, I work here. Maybe you've seen me on the front desk?"
She considers that, then shakes her head. "No, that's not it."
Dominic sighs impatiently. "Did you need something?"
Lillian tuts at him. "I know you're busy running the universe, but we have some final details to work out for the divorce."
"Everything is settled. It's over."
"I thought so, too. But you know how lawyers are, Dominic. Always hiding something until the last minute." Lillian shrugs, as if to say it's out of her hands.
He scowls. "Fine."
The elevator arrives, and Lillian steps inside, holding the doors. "Are you coming?" she asks him lightly.
He takes a step towards her and my heart sinks. Dominic finally looks at me. "I won't be long."
"No," I say, my emotions finally firing to life. "Take as long as you need. I'm not waiting."
"Juliet-" he starts, but I just glare and turn on my heel. I need to get away from him while I still have some composure, before I collapse in tears from the betrayal of it all.
The distance to the exit feels like the longest walk of my life. But he doesn't follow.
I'm on my own.
I go to the basement to collect my car, somehow holding back my tears, my hurt and my rage until I get home to the apartment.
Callie flings the door open before I've even turned the key. I look at her and a tear rolls down my face.
"Oh honey." She gathers me into her arms and pulls me inside. "What did he do?"
"It's more like what he didn't do. Like tell me he used to be married."
Callie pats my back and sighs. "That asshole!"
I wipe my eyes and flop down onto the couch. Emily comes out with a plate of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. She looks upset. "I was making these to welcome you home."
"Bring ‘em here," I demand. "I need to eat my feelings."
The three of us jam onto the couch with the cookies and I tell them everything.
"So, he's divorced, or not?" Callie asks.
I shrug. "I don't know. She made it sound like maybe it wasn't final."