down on the couch. I wanted to wait, really I did, but after a moment I was unwrapping it quickly and ripping it open, too curious to see what was inside to stop myself.
I did stop when I saw the card on top.
Bella, it read, it occurred to me that you might not have anything to wear tonight. Took the liberty of ordering something. Hope it fits. Hope you don’t hate me too much for it.
PS. I sent it via bike messenger, so you didn’t have to worry about having me show up at your door.
The message was written on Saks stationary, obviously jotted down by whatever employee had done the shopping. And there was no signature. But there was only one person who would worry about sending me a dress—for our date—and then note that he wasn’t delivering it himself because he didn’t want to be seen here.
Ethan Parker. Ethan freaking Parker had asked some personal shopper to get me a dress and have it delivered to my house. Because he didn’t think I’d have anything to wear on a date with him.
I yanked the dress out of the box, not even caring how much it had cost or whether I would damage it. I was too furious to think that clearly. Too frustrated to care.
Where did he get off, assuming that I didn’t have clothes to wear? Where did he get off thinking he had any right to send me a dress? How did he even know what size I was?
Then I saw the dress. It was a high-end-label sheath dress, black with tiny silver beads along the neckline. And it was freaking gorgeous. It also probably cost more than my entire month’s rent.
And Ethan had had it sent to me like he was sending a bouquet of daisies. Like it didn’t mean anything. Just because he’d been worried that I might not have anything to wear.
The thing was, he wasn’t wrong. I demonstrably didn’t have anything to wear. And yeah, so it was a little bit sweet of him to think about that—and remedy the issue without asking first. Without giving me the chance to tell him that I wouldn’t accept it.
So it was a little bit romantic. Who cared? He was still the man who had callously asked to buy one of my babies and set me up for life if I never asked about it again. He was still the man who had agreed that we shouldn’t be seen together, because it might damage his reputation. Yeah, okay, I’d been the one to suggest that—but he’d agreed!
So what was he doing sending me gifts now?
I bit my lip and stared at the dress in my hand, trying hard to get around my own stubborn nature and see it more clearly. At issue: a gorgeous dress that I never would have bought for myself. A gift from a man who had charmed me right out of my panties on the first night we met. A date that I still wasn’t sure I should be going on.
A semi-promise that we might be able to work out something more reasonable when it came to splitting up our kids. Or raising them. Or something. A semi-apology for the way he’d tried to do it the first time.
I let a smile creep across my face, then. No, the Bella from three months ago wouldn’t have accepted it. She was too nervous, too unsure of herself. And way, way too stubborn. She never would have believed that anyone that rich or powerful would have any interest in her. She would have been looking for the trap door. The one that was going to open up underneath her feet when she was least expecting it.
But this new Bella, the one who had two babies to think of and a possible new career? The one who had spent a night with one of the most eligible bachelors in New York, and then dealt with one of the weirdest offers that any woman had probably ever heard? This new Bella was learning to see opportunity in the strangest places. Learning to be a little bit more flexible in terms of what she would and wouldn’t accept. And it turned out she was willing to hear Ethan Parker out, see what this brilliant new idea was.
I stripped the dress out of its wrapping and went to try it on, already wondering whether I had shoes that would match—and if they were dressy enough for the