I was reluctant about the dress, because my boobs are so big, but whoever bought the dress nailed it. It fits well under my arms and holds me snug. It’s fitted but not too tight and, I have to say, looks great on my curves. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it more than an hour in the matching heels without killing myself, but at least the dress gives me a little bit of confidence.
I wonder what Bray will think. If he’ll like this look on me or not. Part of me wants him to love it and the other part hopes he hates it. That he sees this isn’t me and that it’s not someone I want to be. This whole thing makes me feel like a liar and I hope he’s able to see that.
The stylist leaves just before six, and as I inspect myself in the mirror I hear the front door open. I make my way to the front living room and I hear a woman's laughter. Rounding the corner, I see a smile spread across Bray’s face as he watches the unknown woman laugh.
“Is that so? I bet you the Byron’s account that you’re full of it,” the woman says, laughter still in her voice, neither noticing that I’ve entered the room. She’s utterly stunning. She’s almost as tall as Bray in her heels, with a slim waist and shiny black hair that falls to just above her shoulders. Her pale skin and dark hair are a bold contrast against her red dress. She’s more classically beautiful than Cindy. Her elegance and poise flow without effort.
Normally when Bray gets home, the first thing he does is seek me out. No matter where I am he has me up against the closest wall, making me tell him how much I missed him. I remember his earlier promise of inspecting me when he got home tonight, but that seems to have been forgotten.
“I swear it. She’s—” his words cut off when he sees me, and the smile that was on his face drops. He looks at me with angry eyes while the woman’s smile from before grows even bigger.
“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me, B?” the woman asks. Great, she has a nickname for him. I try to hide my eye roll of jealousy because she did just compliment me.
“My apologies. Chelsea, this is Rebecca, the woman I was telling you about.” I’m not sure what I am to Bray, but obviously he is telling this stranger who I am.
Chelsea comes forward and I reach my hand out to shake hers, but she surprises me and pulls me in for a hug. When she pulls back I have to look up to see her face because of how much taller she is than me, even in the heels I’m wearing. Her smile is so big I can’t help but return it.
“Cupcake?” she asks, holding up a little box of baked goods.
“Yes, please,” I say, realizing that I’m starving. Glancing over, I see Bray’s still standing there with a cold look on his face. It sends chills down my spine.
“Scoot along, B. Let us ladies have a snack while you get your tux on.”
“I’ll just be a moment,” he says, but he looks like he doesn’t want to leave the room. After a few beats he turns on his heels and heads for the bedroom.
“You don’t mind if I ride with you guys, do you? Even if B isn’t my date, I still have to go to this charity thing tonight. Appearances and all that jazz.”
“Of course.” What else can I say? ‘No, I want Bray all to myself’? I know Bray said he hadn’t been with anyone before me, but their comfort together is unsettling. He seemed to be having a good time until he looked up and saw me.
“That’s very sweet of you. Chocolate or red velvet?” she asks, going over to the kitchen and pulling out plates and napkins.
“Whichever you don’t want.” I don’t want to seem rude, so I go to the kitchen beside her.
“B’s always got healthy stuff in his house,” she says, winking and passing me a chocolate cupcake. I take a bite and moan around it. I didn’t realize I needed this until I started eating.
“So how do you and B know each other?” she asks, sitting down at the kitchen bar. “He mentioned there was someone special in his life but he didn’t give any details.”
“I’m helping him out while I stay here. Cleaning, I guess.” For some reason I feel embarrassed that I’m the cleaning lady.
“Are you responsible for all these stunning paintings decorating the walls?” she asks, glancing around the room at my works of art. She doesn’t comment on why I’m staying with Bray.
“Yes, they're mine.”
“As in you brought them here or you painted them?” she questions.
“I painted them.” I feel a blush hit my cheeks at someone looking at my work.
“You have talent and they’re stunning, just like you. I love seeing all this life in B’s home. It makes me happy for him.”