On Dublin Street(61)

Make yourself available Thursday night. Business Dinner. Put on a nice dress. I’ll pick you up at 7.30pm. x


I rolled my eyes. It hadn’t even occurred to him I might not be free. Bossy bastard. I text back: Only because you asked so nicely.


Annoyed, I strode down the sidewalk clutching my phone tight in my hand. I’d have to talk to him about his tendency towards obnoxious. My phone beeped and I stopped, still scowling. A scowl that fell away at his one word text: Babe. x


I could hear him say it with a teasing smile in his voice and I shook my head, smiling in exasperation. Jackhole was too damn charming for his own good.


***


Not that I had much to go on about the business dinner – who we would be dining with, or where we would be dining – I did know I didn’t have a dress that would do. So for once I decided to use my money for something frivolous, and head into Harvey Nichols on St. Andrews Square. After two hours of trying on dresses (some of which cost more than my monthly rent), I finally decided on a classy, but sexy Donna Karan dress. In the silhouette of a calf-length pencil dress, the silver-grey jersey material clung to every curve. A drape twisted from the right shoulder to the left hip, adding a touch of elegance to what would normally be just a sexy/casual dress. Adding in a ridiculously expensive black clutch purse by Alexander McQueen with the signature gold skull clasp—I thought the skull appropriate— and black leather platform pumps by Yves Saint Laurent, I looked hot. In fact it was the hottest I’d ever looked. And the most I’d ever spent on one outfit. Ellie was in raptures over it.


Ellie could be in raptures over it all she wanted. I was nervous about Braden’s reaction.


Turns out I didn’t need to be.


Well, depends on how you look at it.


Thursday night, I was standing in the sitting room sipping a glass of wine with Ellie while I waited on Braden. I’d left my hair down and it fell down my back in loose natural curls that Ellie had oohed and aahed over, begging me to wear my hair down all the time. Nope to that. I didn’t really do make up, but I’d put on some blush, mascara, and a deep scarlet lipstick that took the outfit up a notch.


Our front door opened and shut and my stomach flipped.


“It’s me,” Braden called. “I’ve got a cab waiting so we sh-” he stopped speaking as he entered the sitting room, his eyes frozen on me. “Fuck.”


Ellie giggled.


I squinted an eye at him. “Is that a good f*ck?”


He grinned. “Well you’re that too, babe.”


“Euch,” Ellie made a choking sound. “Gag me.”


Ignoring her, Braden sauntered casually towards me. He was wearing a simple, but elegantly cut black skinny suit with a slim velvet lapel, white-gold cufflinks and a dark silver-grey shirt that matched my dress perfectly. His skinny tie was blood-red like my lipstick. We had unknowingly coordinated.


He looked yummier than I did though.


His eyes scanned me from head to toe, and by the time they came back up to my face they were blazing. “Come with me.” He grabbed my wrist and I just managed to hand Ellie my wine glass before I was hauled down the hall in shoes I’d had to practice walking in, and dragged into my bedroom.


He spun around, hooking an arm around my waist and tugging me towards him.


“You have got to stop doing that,” I complained.


“Babe, you look… let’s just say if there wasn’t a taxi waiting to take us to the restaurant for our reservation, you’d be on your back right now.”


Overconfident much?


“In fact…” he murmured, squeezing my waist, his eyes dipping to the low neckline of the dress.


“Braden.”


He jerked his eyes back to mine. “You look beautiful, Jocelyn.”


My stomach flipped again and I smiled softly. “Thank you.”


“But you need to put your hair up.”


“What?” I touched my head, scowling up at him. “Why?”


To my utter bewilderment, Braden’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Just do it.”


I made a ‘pfft’ noise and pushed against his chest, stepping out of his hold. “Not unless you tell me why?” My hair looked good. He would not make me think otherwise.


“Because,” his voice was low, a deep purr he reserved for the bedroom, hence why I felt it all the way down into my panties, “I like being the only man who knows how beautiful your hair is. How gorgeous you look with it down.”


Something nudged inside my chest. An almost ache spread. Outwardly, I smirked. “How very Victorian of you.”


Braden’s narrowed eyes turned into a glower. “Jocelyn,” he warned.


I threw my hands up. “Are you serious?”


“Deadly.”


“Braden-”


“Jocelyn.”


I stopped, my hands on my hips as I searched his face. It was implacable. My God, he was serious. With a huff of disbelief, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t take well to orders, Braden.”


“I’m not ordering you. I’m asking.”