Fiona pants, her mouth open and her eyes closed, as she and Kent finish in his office.
She’s straddling him in his chair, her black silk panties discarded on the floor.
Kent breathes hard too, on hand wrapped in her hair, the other pressed against her lower back. Slowly, she raises herself off of him, lowering her feet to the ground. She leans forward, her hands on the arms of the chair, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
“Thanks, baby,” she murmurs. “I always like a little afternoon treat.”
Kent doesn’t say anything, just pulls up his pants and buckles them as she stands and leans back against the desk.
“Oh,” Fiona says, looking casually at the security monitors still on his screen. “Lookie here,” she points a finger at the little rectangle that shows the door to Daniel’s room. “Looks like the love birds were having a little tryst.”
She laughs but Kent can’t help himself from clamping his teeth together, watching closely.
Fiona notices Kent’s tension and tilts her head with curiosity, looking between Kent and the screen. Kent ignores her.
Kent is not used to having to control himself around the women that he wants. Usually, it’s not very hard to seduce them, and he can pick and choose who he wants and when he wants them. Women like him, he knows. They come willingly to his bed, or wherever else he takes them.
But as he stares at Fay on the screen, walking back down the hall to her room, he fights to control himself. He knows that he wants her – can’t deny it any more – in a rough, primal sort of way. Different than the way he wants Fiona, who slakes his thirst.
But Fay? She leaves him parched.
Fiona smirks, watching her lover stare at the girl on the screen. “You know,” she says, folding her arms and keeping her voice light. “I don’t think anything funny even went on in that room.”
Kent’s eyes flash to her. “What?”
“Just look,” Fiona says, gesturing to the screen, where Fay has reached her door. The camera shows Fay’s face as she twists the knob and walks in. “Can’t you see? Her hair isn’t mussed, and neither is her makeup. Her lips aren’t even swollen.”
Kent, unable to help himself, turns to study the image, nothing that Fiona is correct.
“She’s not even walking funny,” Fiona says, smirking and watching Kent’s face. “If Daniel had really given it to her –“
“That’s enough,” Kent says, his voice harsh. Fiona’s secret smile only deepens.
Kent stands up, ready to move on with his day. “Of course nothing happened in there,” he says. “She’s his fiancé, he respects her. Daniel knows it’s impious to have sex before the wedding.”
Fiona laughs and stands up as well, crossing herself casually as she does so. “Oh, I didn’t know we were suddenly so pious in this house,” she says, heading for the door. “I’ll have to say a couple of Hail Mary’s to wash away my sins from this afternoon,” she says, winking at him and heading out.
Kent grunts a goodbye in her direction and returns his attention to some paperwork on his desk.
Still, unable to concentrate, his mind turns again to the innocent, untouched young woman upstairs.
That afternoon, Fiona opens Fay’s door and gives her a big smile. “I have a surprise for you, baby,” she says.
Putting down her book, I look at her with curiosity. “What is it?”
“Come and find out.” Fiona holds the door open and I hop out of bed to follow her.
Fay leads me downstairs towards the front of the house, where she throws open the doors to the parlor. My eyebrows shoot up and I cover my mouth with both hands when I look inside.
Everything is covered in white – white tulle, white lace, white silk, white satin – hanging from racks, draped over chairs, stacked on the sofa. The only dark spot in the room is Kent, before the fireplace, directing the workers who carry piles of garment bags.
“What’s going on?” Daniel says, peering into the room behind me, a sandwich in his hand.
“Don’t bring that in here,” Fiona scolds, swatting at him. Daniel laughs and finishes the sandwich in two big bites, brushing his hands on his pants to get free of crumbs. Fiona glares at him a little but then nods, deeming him clean enough to enter.
“Is this…” I say, looking around in awe, a little anxiety roiling in my stomach as I realize what all of these white things are.
“Wedding dresses!” Fiona says, clapping her hands. “Aren’t they gorgeous? They’re all brought in from Kleinfeld.”
“Now, you come stand here,” Fiona says, pulling me and Daniel further into the room to stand by Kent, “out of the way, while I get everything set up.”
With that, she bustles away to shoo everyone unessential out of the room. As she works, I look up at Kent.
“Was it like this?” I ask. “For your own wedding?”
He glances down at me but looks back at the room as he answers. “No. We had a small wedding, in Sicily. That’s where she was from.”
I raise my eyebrows, surprised. “Oh,” I say. “Is she…still there?”
I scream at myself, inwardly, for such an awkward question. But come on – I can’t just blurt out is she dead? How did she die? Which is what I really want to know.
Kent looks down at me with a withering look. I work hard to keep my face straight, but I feel so terribly awkward that I open my mouth to say something else – anything else -
Daniel saves me. He links elbows with me and pulls me closer. “My mom died when I was young,” he says casually. “Her marriage to my dad was actually arranged,” he notes cheerfully. “Like ours.”
“Oh!” I say, looking between Kent and Daniel, genuinely surprised. “Um, was her death…an accident? An illness?”
Kent sighs and looks at me sharply. “If you want to ask, Fay, if I murdered her, or she died in a gunfight, or was kidnapped and tortured by my enemies, just be forthright about it.”
I press my lips together, embarrassed. Because of course, that’s exactly what I want to know. I say nothing.
“Cancer,” Daniel whispers beside me. I feel sadness flood me, then, and open my mouth to tell him how sorry I am, but he stops me with a smile. “It’s okay,” he says. “It really was a long time ago. Dad and I are all patched up.”
“Well,” I say, turning to smile at Daniel again. “I guess that’s something else we have in common. Both of our moms died young.”
“Rather a macabre thing to bond over,” Kent says dryly, putting his hands in his pockets. “But you will start a new family soon.”
I wonder at the truth of that, but before I can say anything, Fiona pulls me forward to try on the first gown.
The fittings take all afternoon. At first it was fun, playing princess, but after a while I get tired of fighting my way through yards and yards of tulle. Daniel and Kent leave immediately as the trials begin.
Daniel didn’t want to see the dress, insisting that it was bad luck, and Kent only wants to come in once the final selection is made. He said that if he’s paying for it, he wants final approval.
“Okay,” Fiona says, studying me in the last dress. She holds up the beaded Oscar de la Renta that was our other top choice, an incredible off-white beaded silk that fell heavily to the floor and made a fantastic shushing sound as I walked.
“This one?” She indicates the Oscar, “or that?” She gestures towards the incredibly romantic Caroline Herrera dress that hugs my waist with a tight bodice, the off-shoulder sleeves flowing down in to the flowing charmeuse of the skirt, which sweeps behind me in a five-foot train.
“This one,” I say, a little breathless, staring at myself in the mirror. I had never really been the kind of girl who dreamed about her wedding before, but in a dress like this? I am actually starting to feel like a bride.
“Oh thank god,” Fiona says, wiping a tear from her eye. “That was my favorite too. If you’d picked the Oscar, you’d have broken my heart.”
I laugh a little as she picks up her phone, texting someone. I realize, suddenly, that she’s messaging Kent – telling him to come down for final approval.
When the door opens, I turn to face him, biting my lip, wondering, passively, if he’ll approve.
He’s looking down at his phone as he walks into the room but, about halfway across the room from us, he glances up.
Kent stops dead in his tracks.
I feel fear curl in the bottom of my belly. Does he not like it? Did I make the right choice?
His whole body stiffens, his arm dropping to his side as his eyes slowly rove over my form. I turn to him, running my hands across the fabric at my hips, and see his mouth fall ever so slightly open.
Then, his eyes snap back to my own and his mouth slams shut. He takes a step forward, his eyes burning, and, surprised, I take one step back –
My reaction is totally animal, that of prey flinching back from a predator. Kent sees it, registers my fear, and wills himself back into composure. His eyes flick to Fiona for a moment as he slowly rolls his shoulders back, putting his hands into his pockets.
Then, he studies me again. It’s a mask, though, this time – I can tell. He’s just pretending to be the passive buyer studying his goods.
Beneath, he’s the wolf, and I am his supper.
I stare at him, aware, in some part of me, that I have made him ravenous. I shift my position, then, trying out how this knowledge feels in in my body, twisting my hips so that my thighs rub together beneath the skirt of my gown.
Kent’s eyes flash to my legs, my thighs, and I see a muscle flicker in his cheek as he clenches his jaw.
“So,” Fiona says, her arms folded, her eyes flashing between us. “I guess you like it, Kent?”
I turn my head to look at her, breaking out of my strange reverie, and blush to see the awareness on her face.
“Yes,” Kent says, and when I look back I see that he is, again, all control. “The Herrera is a good choice. Charge it to my account.”
With that, he turns and leaves the room.
“How…” I say, turning my surprise in my mind, “how does he know all the designers?” I ask.
“Baby,” Fiona says, sauntering over to me with a smirk. “He chose all of these gowns. Not me.”
My mouth falls open in surprise.