“Okay, thank you.”
I walk into the spacious room and look over the selection. I choose a red, knee-length dress to try on first. It has a panel top and pleated skirt and it looks nice on the hanger. Hopefully, I can pull it off.
I waste no time in slipping it on, before stepping out to show Cassandra, she smiles before waving her hand side to side. I disappear back into the room and try them on, one after another.
The fourth outfit feels like a winner to me, but I don’t know what was on the list, so I could be wrong. It’s a black ruffled skirt that falls to my knees, with a white blouse and black waistcoat. Honestly, I freaking love it, and I’d buy it if I thought there was even a remote possibility that I could afford it.
I step out once I throw on the black slingbacks, and her answering smile fills me with confidence.
“I think that’s the one. You look comfortable, and it’s definitely within the specifications. What do you think?”
Her question throws me for a moment, and I feel kind of foolish for reacting that way.
“I love it, I don’t even know why but it’s so comfy and I like that it’s smart, but still has a slight edge to it.”
“I agree, it’s perfect for you. So, go ahead and get changed back into your things, and I’ll get it bagged up for you. It’s already been paid for, so there’s nothing else for you to do.” She gives me one last smile before walking away. I wish Emmet was here, and that thought is knocking me off kilter.
I walk out to where Michael is waiting for me, and he leads me back to the town car before driving me back to Emmet’s. I hope he’s back now. I want to fix this rift I’ve caused, and I can’t do that if he isn’t around.
We pull up and park behind the Charger. I grab my bag and walk inside the house before putting my things away and making my way into the living room.
Emmet is sitting in the recliner with his phone tucked under his ear, scribbling furiously on a pad of paper. I don’t want to disturb him, so I go upstairs to my room and hang my clothes up so they don’t get creased. I can’t believe I’ll be meeting with them tomorrow. I hope I’m prepared enough, but I’m worried that I’ve missed something vital. What if I do or say something stupid? I don’t want them to think I’m an utter moron and run off to tell Sir.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and toy with my bottom lip, I can’t believe I never went to Emmet. Why didn’t I? Because I don’t like asking him for help. I guess I was worried he would find a way to use it against me, and I let my stubbornness run the show. I don’t regret going to Maddox, but he’s learning like I am. Emmet has hands-on experience, I should have asked him. Pride be damned.
I’ve been back an hour, and he hasn’t come up once, or at least I haven’t heard anything coming from out in the hallway. I want to go down, but I don’t want to be in the way. It doesn’t help that I’m bored beyond belief and absolutely starving. Michael didn’t give me any time to grab breakfast, and it’s nearly too late to consider anything I eat lunch.
This is ridiculous. I can’t just sit up here. I get up, walk out of my room, and head down the stairs. Well, he’s not in the living room anymore. I go into the kitchen and root around in the fridge. He has all the makings for a chicken and bacon carbonara. I guess I could make it for us, and I’ll just have a sandwich or something later.
I’m so engrossed in my task, I jump out of my skin when a hand lands on my shoulder. I spin around and come face to face with… Sir.
“I apologize, Miss Carter, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just looking for my son,” he says, and my heart is racing like a jackhammer.
“I-it’s okay. I haven’t seen him since earlier, I’m afraid,” I say before I take a large gulp and try to swallow my nerves.
“That’s fine, I’ll just take a seat and wait for him to make himself known.”
Oh crapsticks. He’s sticking around. Well, you may not want me to be alone with Sir, but it looks like I don’t have a choice in the matter, Emmet. Please, come back soon.
“What are you making?” he asks, and his voice is deep but also soft at the same time. The kind of voice that puts you at ease the minute you hear it, I’ve never heard him use it before though, not even during dinner.
“It’s nothing fancy, just a simple carbonara,” I reply, and I’m trying my hardest not to giggle like an imbecile. Although giggling would be more preferable to crying, and I have no idea how I’ll react if my nerves don’t go away soon.
“Toast is simple my dear, I wouldn’t diminish what you are doing so easily. You should show pride in your talents, unless you are a terrible cook.” I glance at him and I can’t read his expression at all.
“Not that I know of. Although people can be nice, so who knows?” Cue the damn giggling.
“Maybe I’ll stay for a bite, I promise I won’t give false accolades, not if they’re not deserved.”
No, no, no. please don’t stay, please don’t stay.
“Father, was I expecting you?” Thank you, Emmet.
“No, but then again what is life without a little whimsy,” Sir replies, and I never would have thought I’d hear him say something like whimsy.
“I’m your son, which means I know you never do anything on a whim. Something must have brought you here.” It doesn’t feel right to be witnessing this conversation and I’m worried that Emmet will push him too far.
“I came to discuss a few matters with you, but that can wait until after lunch. Miss Carter is making a carbonara, and I’ve decided to join you both. I thought I would offer my services as a food critic. At least she’ll know that I’m not just patting her on the back because I’m worried about hurting her feelings.” His voice has lost than calming quality, now it feels rife with tension.
“She’s going to open up a bakery, not a restaurant. I don’t think it really matters if she can cook pasta. Besides, I’ve tried her baking, and it’s fucking delicious. I think that’s enough said.” His tone sounds so cold and detached.
“Watch your language.” His voice cracks the air like a whip, and I half expect to see Emmet bleeding from the impact. Dramatic? Of course, but it’s justified.
“Of course, father. I forgot myself for a moment there. It will not happen again.”
“Make sure it doesn’t. I did not raise you to use obscenities to make a point, you should be able to do it without lowering yourself to such a disgraceful standard.” please, just let me disappear now. I don’t like what I’m hearing, although I think it’s more of what isn’t being said, rather than what is.
“So, are you going to magic up a dining table or are we expected to sit on the sofa with the plates on our laps like heathens?” Please have a table. For the love of God, Emmet, please have a table!
“Of course, I do, father. It’s in the dining room. I don’t entertain guests often, so I didn’t see the point in ruining the room with one.” They are so formal with one another, but there’s a constant bite to their words.
“Well, it will not set itself up. Unless you were expecting Miss Carter to do that as well as prepare the food.”