Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
The creaking of the stairs breaks me out of my reverie.
“I have something I need to say,” she murmurs.
I wave a hand. “Go ahead.”
CHAPTER 5
AURORA
He waves his hand at me as though I’m his assistant and he’s giving me an instruction. My command is your wish, he said earlier, and that triggered something in me.
He said it in a husky low voice, his pale blue eyes fixated on me. He’s a tall, broad man. Even with his suit hanging somewhat loosely off him, I can see the outlines of his muscles, the power in his body.
He has a playful glint in his eyes, like nothing matters because he’s so rich, and he’s got no problems. I try to think about what Grandma said, how I’m seeing things that aren’t there. The Goliath idiot put me in a bad mood, and now I’m blaming this stranger.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a long pause. “I’m mortified that I spoke to a customer that way. I promise you, it’s not how we usually do business. My grandmother is sick, and we’re having some other trouble. That’s no excuse, but I hope it helps explain why I—”
“Apology accepted,” he cuts in.
I blow out a grateful breath. “Thank you.”
“Shall we carry on?”
As I approach him, I wonder if I imagine his gaze flitting up and down my body. It’s happened a few times–I think. Maybe he just doesn’t like eye contact. His cologne washes over me when I’m within touching distance again.
“So, how has your day been?” I ask as I take more measurements.
“We don’t have to make small talk,” he says.
He seemed pretty keen to make small talk before. Is he sulking now?
When I measure his waist, my hand brushes too close. I’m sure I feel the heat of his skin through the material, the hardness of his abs.
“Careful, that’s close to the skin.”
I look up at him. “Don’t worry. If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it already.”
We look into each other’s eyes for too long. He’s got a full-on smirk again. I’m smiling too. I can’t help it.
“You must be busy in the run-up to Halloween,” he says.
I thought you didn’t want to make small talk, I almost reply, but I stamp down the pettiness.
“People in this town love our costumes, thankfully,” I reply. “So yes, we’re busy.”
“You design the outfits, too?”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I have ever since I was a kid. Christmas work used to be my favorite-outfits for the Nativity, elf costumes, stuff like that. But then…”
Then, my parents died over Christmas, and that holiday changed forever.
“Anyway, Halloween is my favorite holiday now,” I go on, not wanting to go into my parents’ deaths.
“Why?” he asks.
“I love seeing the kids’ eyes light up when they try on their costumes. I love the sweet treats and the mood of the night itself. The fact people get to dress up and become someone else, get to truly be someone else if they believe hard enough. It’s like a magic spell we all agree to cast on ourselves and each other. For a short time… I’m not me. I’m whoever I choose to be.”
I stop, breathless, realizing I’ve gone on a bit of a rant.
“Anyway,” I mutter. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not silly,” he says gruffly. “It makes total sense.”
“You must love Halloween. With the Retreat and everything.”
He shrugs, his eyes never leaving me. He’s not smirking, nor smiling. He just looks at me with a level of interest that takes me off guard. It’s weirdly gratifying, not that I’ll admit that.
“That’s more of my grandmother’s thing.”
“You don’t attend?”
“I attend, sure, but the festivities of Halloween aren’t why I appreciate it. I like the brutal honesty. Most of the time, people are wearing masks anyway. Three hundred and sixty-five days of the year, they wear them. Halloween is just the one where people are honest about it.”
I finish up the measurements, then go to the counter to jot them down.
“I thought you might call me cynical,” he says.
I turn and smile. “I won’t be winning any customer service awards doing that, right?”
When he laughs, it feels like earning something. Which is annoying. I’ve got nothing to prove to this stranger.
“Once I’ve made my markings, I’ll need the suit to make the alterations. It will be ready before the Retreat.”
“Excellent. And that’ll be ten thousand dollars, correct?”
My mouth falls open. I close it before it hits the floor. “No, Mr. Blackwell, that’s not correct.”
“For the entire service,” he says with a smirk.
“It’s not even close to correct.”
He takes a step forward, seeming so tall and imposing when he’s standing close to me. It’s not just his size. It’s his presence. “I’m not talking about the tailoring work.”
“Then you’ve got me at a loss.”
“I have a unique business proposition, and I think you’ll be the perfect candidate.”