Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(26)

A makeup artist jumps over and does a soft evening look—smoky eyes and mascara, but no heavy face contour. He says my skin is already spotless and smooth, with a great jawline, and that a natural foundation will do. He applies a soft blush on my cheeks, finishing with a matte cherry-red lipstick, which accentuates the blue of my eyes.

“Oh yeah,” cheers Emma, a cigarette in hand. “Much better! You look good enough to eat.”

I smile and glance in the mirror. “Wow.” Indeed, I can barely recognize myself. I look so much sexier, older, bolder, more mature. Quite impressive how hair and makeup can boost someone’s confidence like that!

“You look amazing, Petra. What are you gonna wear?” asks Alyssa.

Emma takes a puff on her cigarette. “We’re gonna do some shopping now. She needs a new look. Hope you brought your daddy’s credit card.”

“I should be okay with mine—Dad gives me a monthly allowance. I never spend a dime anyway.”

We leave the salon. Walking through the streets, I can feel the gazes and indiscreet stares of many men and women as we pass by. I blush, but it feels amazing.

Emma and I step into Balmain. She says it’s the best brand for the occasion. “Try this white T-shirt. And this leather skirt. Oh, I love this purse. We need ankle boots.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Hasenfratz. It’s great to see you. May I help you with something?”

“Hi, Jeff. Yes, we want a concert outfit. Cool, not overdressed, you know…”

I try various pairs of shoes, different garments, and finally a range of purses that are handed to me. I gape at the price of each item. One thousand eight-hundred for a pair of shoes! Four hundred for the T-shirt! While I’ve got enough in my bank account, I’m definitely not used to such high-end shopping.

“What about lingerie? What are you gonna wear?”

I gasp at her question. Emma, I have no intention of taking my clothes off after just exchanging some kisses. “I don’t know… Why? Does it matter?”

“Oh, babygirl, you are unbelievable. Of course it does. You need a black lace set, and a push-up bra for sure. Let’s hurry up!”





While I wanted to attend the concert alone with the girls, my dad has imposed his own rules and I’ll have to go with my godfather instead. As a “responsible adult,” he must pick me up and drop me off at home no later than one thirty a.m. These are the non-negotiable conditions for me to be able to go. Oh, Alexander’s just texted. He’s downstairs waiting for me, punctual as always. I take one last look in the mirror before leaving. I’ve opted for a white Balmain T-shirt, a black leather skirt, black sheer thigh-high stockings, and a pair of heeled ankle boots—not my usual style, to say the least. But hey, it’s not usual for me to attend a concert either.

Crossing the hallway of my building, I feel the doorman staring at me discreetly. “Have a great evening, Ms. Van Gatt,” I hear as I walk outside.

Alex’s leaning against his car, just like last time. He looks young and effortless in a smoky black Henley shirt with four buttons all closed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a three-strand brown bracelet on his left wrist, and light-gray jeans. Well, at least he doesn’t need Emma to know how to dress for a concert.

“So, where is your date?” I tease.

His eyes dart in my direction, checking me out from top to bottom. I’m expecting some sort of reaction, a compliment maybe, but nothing. “I saw her yesterday so I could be free this evening. Shall we?” he asks, opening my door.

“She’s too old to enjoy a pop concert?”

His eyes hold a glint of humor, playing with the corners of his mouth. “Just in case you didn’t realize, little Petra, it’s a teen concert.”





The “teen” concert is playing at Terminal 5—a live music venue not too far away. I can already see the streets full of people waiting to get in. Oh God. My heartbeat quickens and my stomach knots. What if I have to be squeezed in among the crowd? Today I took a pill to prevent a panic attack, but even so, it’s hard not to freak out.

Alex notices it. “Don’t worry,” he reassures, smiling. “My brother managed to get us a private box, there’ll be no one else.”

I heave a sigh of relief.

The box is on the third floor and looks directly onto the stage. It can easily hold thirty people, but tonight we’re the only ones occupying it. We find a low table with a bottle of champagne, two flutes, a leather sofa, and a greeting card with a message inside: Hope you will enjoy. Xx, Jimmy.

I smile tenderly.

A security guard knocks on the door.

“Petra? Jimmy would like to see you before the concert starts. May I escort you backstage?”

I glow with excitement. “Of course. I’m coming.”

But Alex reaches out and holds my wrist before I can do so. I raise an eyebrow. “Be careful with him.”

Dear Lord! Just like his voice, his face is harsh, stern, serious... Anyway, I couldn’t care less—Jimmy’s waiting for me.

The security escorts me backstage, where Jimmy and his musicians are getting ready. I can hear the crowd outside screaming as their excitement grows. Jeez! I’m glad to be in a private box upstairs. The area backstage is quite dark, and with such a big crew moving around, it’s hard to find him. I look a bit further and finally my face beams with joy, recognizing his figure. Jimmy looks sexier than ever—dark ripped skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a black V-neck T-shirt.