Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,27
she’d made a color copy, framed it, and hung it in the back room of the Knight Owl.
Tearing the garbage up and spitting on its pieces—and then in Needles’s ugly, tattooed face—never sounded so good.
Drake had been a gentleman after their meeting on Monday, smiling softly as he whisked in and out of the office, asking her politely to get his coffee or make a few office-supply runs. Even when Emelia had marched into his office, bright and early Tuesday morning, with her deed clutched in her fist, he’d been polite. Talked to her without the snide remarks that existed before.
Finally, he’d given her what she’d wanted all along: common decency.
He’d even brought in someone from the county with commercial plot maps and sale histories, and a banker with the transaction records to back his claim. All Emelia had was a piece of paper and the word of a lying snake.
Queen Stupid, at Drake‘s service.
After her ex ditched her at the altar, Emelia should’ve known better than to trust men. Especially ones who had their eyebrows replaced by arching tribal tattoos. It was that fact alone—that somewhere deep inside, she knew better—that had her apologizing to Drake for her rude comments the next day. He didn’t mock her, laugh in her face, or berate her as she’d expected him to…as she would’ve done in his position. Instead, he’d said, “It was simply a miscommunication. Don’t give it another thought.”
Drake Wilder had a heart after all.
He’d even said he would sell it back to her when she was on her feet, after she sued Needles for her money back. Things were looking up.
As the elevator dinged, indicating someone had reached the top floor, Emelia fed her deed into the shredder, and suddenly remembered all those papers she’d destroyed of Drake’s the first day.
“Shit.” Her gaze shifted to Trixie’s desk. How could she find out what those papers were and replace them? Drake might’ve been content with her for the time being, but when he found out what she did, he’d be livid.
“Your dress came,” Trixie said, barreling around the corner swinging a black garment bag.
“Oh yeah? Bring it here.” Emelia cleared a spot for the dress as Trixie laid it out and waited impatiently for Emelia to give it the unzip.
Emelia had tried to forget about the Vanguard Gala all week, but Drake’s reminder e-mails didn’t help. She felt foolish, and wasn’t looking forward to bathing in uncomfortable silence all weekend. She’d been ridiculous for fighting a point she should’ve known to be false. She’d apologized. Drake had accepted her apology. Still, Emelia’s behavior was inexcusable. She’d shredded his documents, conveniently forgotten to relay messages, and had even started switching his black coffee for decaf, little by little, hoping he would be groggy and unmanageable in front of his business associates.
To make matters worse, Drake had been so damned kind through the whole thing. He’d been disgustingly…understanding.
She had to make it up to him somehow. She would be the best date he’d ever brought to the Vanguard Gala, on her best behavior.
“What are you waiting for?” Trixie asked.
“I don’t know.” Nerves danced in Emelia’s veins, and tingled through her arms. “Maybe I should wait to put it on until I get home.”
“Oh no, you’re not going to deny me this. If you’re not going to be excited about it, I’ll do it for you. Mr. Wilder always picks the attire for this event. Last year he bought me a McLourdes, the most expensive and elegant on the line. It was silver and flowing with diamonds at the collar.” Trixie smiled as if she wore the dress now, and seemed to glow from its memory. It should’ve been a crime for a woman to have brains, sensibility, and beauty that rivaled a model’s. “Aren’t you even a little anxious to see what he got you?”
Emelia hadn’t gotten dressed up for a formal event in years…since prom, probably. While she’d always loved to dress up, she’d never found an excuse, and had never had a boyfriend who would agree to take her somewhere that required it.
“Yeah,” she shrugged, playing down her feelings. “I guess.”
Staring at the long, black bag, Emelia couldn’t squelch the excitement that bubbled in her belly. Drake could afford to buy from the most expensive stores on the planet. They were attending a benefit gala in San Francisco, a place she’d always dreamed of going. There were going to be celebrities at the event, Wilder coworkers from across the country,