“I beg to fucking differ. I’d never let Four keep secrets from you.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked as he looked away. As much as he wanted to argue, I knew he couldn’t. There wasn’t a damn thing about Four that Ever would want to be kept from him. For any reason.
I’d done my own digging, but nothing surfaced except some sold-off assets. It wasn’t unusual to reallocate your funds. I just needed to track down where the hell the money had gone. I’d long ago dismissed the idea that the Montgomery’s were bankrupt, but the thought was always there. If they were broke, then what role did Ever play in all of this? Surely, he didn’t actually intend to marry her. While that would fix all the Montgomerys’ problems, it would ruin our relationship for good after I fucked his wife on their wedding night.
Before my thoughts could run even wilder, the vision that pushed through the curtains stole my attention. Four looked shy and uncertain as she waited for Ever to notice her. Clearing my throat, I nodded, prompting Ever to spin around. I didn’t need to see his face to know he was captivated. What red-blooded male wouldn’t be? Four wasn’t just beautiful; she was breathtaking.
Her gaze found mine, and I gave her a nod of approval, but her attention had already turned back to Ever. Subtly, I nudged him with my elbow.
Say something, jackass.
“Do you like it?” she asked when he couldn’t seem to find the words.
“I want to tear it off you.” Ever’s voice was thick, husky, but Four still somehow misinterpreted his meaning.
“I guess that’s a no,” she mumbled, looking ready to run for the safety of the curtain. It was hard to believe that she was no longer a virgin. Perhaps she was reluctant to believe him since she still hid in his shadow while he paraded around town with my girl on his arm.
Ever was up and on the platform before Four could flee. “It’s a goddamn yes, princess.” Lifting her chin, he kissed her lips. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
As I rolled my eyes, my gaze landed on a red number. The gold and pearl beading twinkled under the bright spotlight while the low-cut bodice and short skirt promised to put on a show. The sheer, red overlaying skirt was dramatically full and overly long, promising to trail the ground with each step. I knew in that instant that I wouldn’t be going to prom solo.
“Well?” Bechette inquired as she stepped into the room. “Will it do or not?”
“Oh, it will do,” Ever drawled.
“I’m impressed,” I chimed in while Bechette and Four exchanged knowing smiles. “She almost looks like a girl.” Ever drew Four to his body protectively when she looked ready to give me a piece of her mind. I dismissed them both and regarded the dressmaker. “Ms. Martin. I’d like to purchase one of your dresses for my date.”
“Date?” Four echoed. “You have a date? Who is this girl? I must warn her.”
“None of your business.”
“I’m sorry,” Bechette said before Four could interrogate me further, “but I work by appointment only, and I’m afraid I’ve been booked for months.”
“Then how were you able to see us today?” Four questioned with a frown. “I didn’t have an appointment.”
“And I’m certain you did.”
I wonder if Four knew there were stars in her eyes when she gazed up at Ever. “You made the appointment?” When Ever nodded, she added, “When?”
“Three months ago.”
My gaze narrowed, and I had the urge to pummel Ever’s face until he looked like a deflated beach ball. The intervention had only been a month ago. He’d known all along that he was taking Four. So where the fuck did that leave Bee?
“But you hadn’t asked me to go.”
“I didn’t know I needed to.”
“This is all disgustingly sweet,” I cut in while trying not to gag. It was getting to be a chore hanging around the two love birds. “But I’m trying to make a transaction here.” I turned to Bechette, who still had her nose in the air. “I don’t need an appointment. I need that dress.” I pointed to the red gown on display.
“Excuse me?” The dressmaker yelped. “Do you know how much that dress will cost?”
“I didn’t ask for the price.” It was clear she didn’t know who the fuck I was. I could buy her and every gown in this goddamn shop without even nicking my pockets.
“Alterations will need to be made for a proper fit, and as I said, I’m booked.”
“I already know her measurements.”
“You will have to be absolutely sure, young man, or my beautiful design will be wasted.”
“I’m sure.”
“How?” Four blurted.
I sighed. I never realized before how goddamn nosy she was. “That’s for me to know,” I taunted after finally meeting her baffled gaze. My fingers curled around Bechette’s elbow, and I pulled her aside, away from Four and Ever’s prying ears. I waited while she donned a pair of reading glasses and pulled a notepad and pen from the pocket of her apron before reciting the information she needed.
“5 Round Hill Lane.”
She peered at me over her thin frames. “Young man, that is an address. I need her waist, hips, and bust size.”
“She’s got perky B cups, a tiny waist that fits perfectly in my hands, and hips that are a little too narrow for all the babies she’s going to give me one day, but fuck, Ms. Martin, no one’s perfect.”
Bechette flipped her notebook closed before pinning me with her glare. “As I already explained, young man, I’m booked and have no time to do a fitting.”
“How much will it cost for you to make the time?”
“Much more than your mommy and daddy give you in allowance, sweetie.”
I didn’t say anything as I plucked the pen from her hand and wrote down a number. “You obviously don’t know who the fuck I am,” I teased when she gaped at the figure. “How soon can you get her fitted?”
MY ENCOUNTER WITH JAMIE WAS still heavy on my mind three days later. I’d spent the rest of the school day bare-assed and tugging on the ends of my skirt thanks to him. A whisper of wind was all it would have taken to make that day infinitely worse.
It was now Sunday morning. Mother’s Day, to be exact, and so far, my weekend had been blissful because it was Jamie-free. Usually, he’d find one way or another to establish his presence, often without even being present at all. It was like he never wanted me to forget the promise he made me nearly a year ago. He was back, and I was screwed.
“Barbette, you’re slouching,” my mother observed, cutting into my private thoughts. It was a wonder I was able to still have them. One day, I’d be just another Melissa Montgomery—a modern-day, real-life Stepford wife. It was an inevitable future, wasn’t it? Hearing my mother’s veiled command, I straightened and found it impossible. I was so on edge that my spine might as well have been a steel rod. “Is something wrong?”
Her tone was soft. Indulgent. Anyone might think she actually cared. The real concern, however, was that I’d embarrass my father. We were having breakfast with the Portlands at the Blackwood Manor, a private country club where only the haughtiest of rich assholes convened. It wasn’t enough to pay the hefty membership fee. You also needed a letter of recommendation from an active member. The Portlands had been my family’s sponsor before they fled Blackwood Keep and the scandal their daughter had caused.