Heartbreak Me by T.L. Smith Page 0,6
unless you plan to use them in a way you know is true.” My hands clutch together, and I sit there waiting for him to tell me off, to tell me he’s planning to punish me for the way I’ve just spoken to him. Anything. But he does nothing but drive in silence until my blue car comes into view parked exactly where I left it.
Guess he didn’t want to talk after all.
When he comes to a stop, he clicks the doors unlocked and stares straight ahead. “You’ll accompany me tomorrow night to a function. Your payments start then,” he growls with his fists clenched and eyebrows firmly pinched together in a scowl.
I know there’s no room for me to argue. I am to go to whatever function he wants me to and do as he asks, it’s part of the deal.
“Dress?” I ask, in a voice that I hope isn’t shaky. I don’t want to give him anything.
“Cocktail. Something will be sent to your house in the morning.”
“I have work.”
“It will be there before you leave.” He dismisses me.
I slide out of his car and head to mine, and when I turn back, he’s watching me. But I can’t make out his expression.
And that?
That’s what scares me.
Chapter Four
Theadora
My hands freeze in my hair as I’m tying my locks up into a messy bun, due to a knock on my front door that comes hard and fast. Taking a deep breath, I quickly finish tying it up and walk with steady steps to my front door. Another knock, louder this time, comes before I get there. Whoever it is, they’re impatient. Touching the door, I pull it open, but standing there is a girl with glasses on her face, black hair tied back into a tight ponytail, her lips painted red, and dressed in a black dress shirt and pencil skirt. I have never seen this woman before in my life, but the way she is looking at me makes me believe instantly that she dislikes me.
“Theadora,” she snaps.
“Thea,” I correct her.
“Yes, well, here is your dress. Be ready by six sharp. The car will be here to collect you.” She pushes the dress into my hands and turns, walking away while I watch. As she reaches a waiting black car, she turns back. “Don’t be late. He hates tardiness.” Then she climbs in and drives off.
I look down at the dress in my hands, which is covered in a bag reading Gucci. Closing the front door, I take it to my couch and lay it down, unzipping the bag. At first, I’m shocked. I’ve seen this dress online—it’s part of what I do, hunt for outfits and what is popular. This dress is one of the popular ones, and it was one of the first to come up in my search. This dress is also over four thousand dollars.
Holding it up in front of me, I admire the beautiful garment. It has slim shoulder straps. One side is gold and falls just to the knee, while the other side is black and sits higher on the upper thigh. It has rumpled fabric where the gold and black meet in the midsection.
Placing the dress back down, I shake my head and step away from it. He would have rented it. High-end clothing stores do that now, let you hire expensive dresses for a night so you can show off, then return them the next day. Our boss has been looking at doing something similar.
Grabbing my purse, I look back one more time at the dress.
Who is this man?
And what am I expected to do tonight that requires me to wear a dress that costs so much?
I’m late. Dammit! I can’t help it because work ran over. Our computer system crashed, which left us manually entering orders and hoping and praying we have the stock to cover it.
Arriving at my house at quarter to six, there’s a limousine sitting out the front. Grabbing my bag out of the car, I run past it and up the few stairs until I reach my front door.
“Theadora.” He inflects the last part of my name, making me feel like a naughty schoolgirl. “My assistant would have told you I hate tardiness. Yet, here you are, not even dressed.” I turn at the sound of his voice and see him standing at the limousine door, holding it open with one arm. He’s dressed in a black suit, and instead of a white undershirt, it’s black.