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I HADN’T SEEN MUCH of Timothy all week. The bigger projects that have been hindering progress are now at the forefront of my attention. I needed to get my part done so I could get Amber in for the decorating phase. The restoration was only half the battle. The interior design element would be the final stage to blend old and new without either overpowering the other. That was where Amber would come in and tie it all together.
I glanced around at the room I had been working in. The crew we brought in to do the renovation were working well together. We were ahead of schedule, which never happened. The house had already been transformed. Yes, there was still some work to do, but it was coming along nicely. I looked at the walls that had been freshly painted. The floors had been polished to a high shine. I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. Look how far I’ve come since that embarrassing tumble over the garden wall. I’ve proven to myself and my crew that I am capable of this. More importantly, I’ve proven it to Timothy.
I knew I was damn lucky he took a chance on me after our initial meeting.
A tinge of sadness crept into my heart, knowing that all of this would come to an end at the close of summer. Sure, I still had another month or two left, but the thought of walking away from this tremendous project and all the hours of hard work was bittersweet. It had been a dream job. I didn’t know if there was ever going to be another job that challenged me quite like this.
But part of me had to wonder if it was the job I was going to miss or the man that was paying me? I pushed the thought aside, dismissing it as my mind playing tricks on me again. Timothy was a difficult man to figure out. He was very cold but there were moments of warmth that always left me confused. The majority of the time he was in the house, he hid in his office. He barely said anything to me or anyone else. I wasn’t sure if he was serious about going to Scott’s wedding with me. I had a feeling it was said as a joke. I wasn’t planning on going. And I definitely wasn’t going to ask him about it. I was good pretending the conversation never happened.
“I’ll see you guys Monday,” I said to the painters in the hall. “Good job. Make sure you guys clean up before you go. We don’t want to leave the family with a mess to walk around over the weekend.”
“See you later, Catherine.”
I headed into town to run errands before meeting with Amber. When I stepped into her modest storefront, I was surprised to find Bennet waiting for me. “Bennet?” I said, wondering why he was in Amber’s store.
“Timothy tried to talk to you at the manor, but you had already left for the day,” he explained. “He wanted me to find you and get this to you.”
Amber was leaning against the wall, watching the exchange.
“What is it?” I asked.
Bennet handed me a sleek, black platinum card. I immediately tried to give it back. “What’s this? If he wants to pay for Amber’s services, she’ll send an invoice.”
“It’s not for Amber,” he said. “It’s for you. It’s not for work.”
“I don’t understand,” I said and looked at Amber for help.
She looked just as shocked as I did.
“Timothy said he wanted you to use it for hair, nails, a dress, and so on,” Bennet said.
“What?” I gasped. “What are you talking about?”
“I understand the two of you have a date,” Bennet said.
“No.” I shook my head. I attempted to give the card back, not wanting to accept such extravagant generosity. “I can’t accept. Please tell him thank you, but no thank you. I wasn’t sure he still wanted to go.”
“He does.”
“Okay, but I can do my own nails,” I argued. “I don’t need his black card.”
“Timothy insisted and specifically instructed me to tell you not to fight it. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but my boss is very accustomed to getting what he wants. He wants you to have this card. If you reject it, I promise you he will find another way. I would not put it past him to have you physically dragged to the salon and chained to the chair.”
I stared at Bennet. His deadpan expression didn’t give anything away. I sighed and finally accepted the card from him, still feeling extremely uncomfortable with the idea.
“But tell him I’m paying for my own dress,” I said with determination.
Bennet chuckled, apparently finding amusement in my stubbornness. “I’ll relay your terms to him, but don’t count on winning that battle.”
“I think you guys might be underestimating me,” I replied.
“Tim’s going to pick you up tomorrow at two,” Bennet added. “Enjoy shopping.” He turned and walked out without another word.
Left alone with Amber, I showed her the card. She stared at it in disbelief. “This is insane,” she remarked with wide eyes. “Timothy really does want to impress you.”
“I don’t know what the hell just happened,” I said.
“What the hell is going on, Catherine?” Amber asked. “You have a date with him?”
I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. “I told Timothy about Scott’s wedding invitation. We were commiserating over cheating exes. He said he would go with me to the wedding. I did object but he insisted. And then it was never mentioned again so I thought it might have just been a joke.”
“Holy shit,” she gasped. “You’re actually going to his wedding?”
“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know. I didn’t plan on it.”
“You are and you have zero time to waste,” she said, laughing. “We have appointments to make for tomorrow morning, and you need a dress.”
“I’ll just wear a dress I already have,” I said, shrugging. “I’m not dressing up for Scott’s wedding.”
Amber gave me a sharp look. “He gave you that card to use and you’re going to use it. It’s not about dressing up for Scott. You’re dressing up for your very handsome, rich boss that wants to take you out. And seriously, showing up to his wedding looking like a million bucks is the ultimate revenge. You need a revenge dress and I know you don’t have one of those in your closet.”
“I’m not spending his money,” I protested.
Amber grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the shop toward her car. “Timothy is a wealthy, powerful man, Catherine. A man who clearly has a thing for you. He gave you his card, and if you don’t use it, you’ll hurt his feelings. It’s not like you are going to make him go broke by spending a few hundred dollars.”
“I can’t let him spend that kind of money on me! It’s so unprofessional. He’s my boss. There are all kinds of ethical violations.”
“Catherine, you’re a grown woman who can handle these things tactfully. Besides, he isn’t your boss in the way you think. I mean yes, he is technically your employer but both of you are adults and it’s not like you’re his assistant or intern. You’re doing a job. When you’re done with the job, he’s no longer your boss.”
I frowned, not liking the direction this conversation was veering toward. “What are you implying?”
Amber shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing much. Just that the lines get blurry sometimes, especially when two people share obvious chemistry. You can’t deny there’s something between you two.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, my cheeks flushing as I recalled the occasional lingering gazes and the way my heart kicked up a beat whenever I was around him.
“Of course you don’t.” Amber chuckled, her eyes full of mischief. “But no worries. We’re going to give you a full overhaul. That man is not going to know what hit him when he sees you tomorrow.”
Amber began to ramble on about salons and boutiques we had to get to. Despite my protests, she seemed to have her heart set on me accepting Timothy’s extravagant gift. She pulled strings, using her contacts to get me an appointment at an upscale salon. I would never be able to afford such a place, but we walked in and she slapped down the black card like she had done it a million times.
Our next stop was a high-end boutique Amber swore by. She insisted that if I wanted a revenge dress, this was the place to find it. As we got out of her car, I hesitated. The shop window displayed dresses that looked utterly splendid but also undoubtedly expensive.
“Just remember,” Amber said as she pushed open the doors of the boutique. “Today is about indulgence. And also revenge.”
A fashionable woman in her mid-forties, dressed in an elegant black dress that screamed haute couture, greeted us. “Amber, darling. What will it be today?” She gave me a onceover and something in her gaze hardened.
I immediately felt self-conscious. She clearly knew I wasn’t the dress type.
“We’re looking for a dress for my friend here,” Amber said breezily, waving off the woman’s judgmental gaze. “A dress that will make a man regret ever letting her out of his sight.”
The woman’s gaze softened and a slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Ah, I see,” she said, her voice dripping with intrigue. “Revenge dresses. We do excel in that department.”
“Show us your best,” Amber insisted, steering me toward a mirrored platform in the middle of the boutique. “There is no budget.”
“Amber!” I hissed.
She waved off my concerns. For what felt like hours, I was in and out of beautiful gowns and cocktail dresses that cost more than my rent. Each one made me feel like a princess, yet none seemed to capture the essence of revenge Amber so desperately wanted for me. That is, until the boutique lady, whose name I had learned was Marianne, brought out a dress that made both Amber and I gasp. It was a knockout, a long, sleek black number with a daring plunging neckline and form-fitting silhouette that caught the light in an enticing way. It was classy yet suggestive, a perfect blend of sophistication and allure.
“I think we’ve found the one,” Marianne declared, her eyes sparkling with approval.
I panicked at the thought of putting it on. It was so not me. But my reservations were ignored.
Hours later, I finally made my way upstairs to my apartment carrying several bags. The day had been a whirlwind of appointments and transformations. Fresh highlights in my blonde hair made it look bright and shiny. My nails were done, something I never did given my line of work. I kept them short to avoid getting in the way. Hanging over my arm was a dress I would have never imagined I’d wear. The cost alone made me feel dizzy.
I approached my door and saw a piece of paper taped to it. “Oh no.”
I knew I had paid my rent, but with the way rents were rising, the landlord might evict all of us so he could do a few updates and charge double. Dread filled my stomach as I pulled it down to read it. Apparently, there was a mold issue that needed to be addressed, and I had the weekend to vacate the premises. The weight of this additional challenge crashed down upon me, my head spinning as I attempted to process it all.
“One problem at a time,” I muttered to myself.
First, I had to get through the stupid wedding. Then I would worry about where I was going to live for a week or two or three. I knew how these projects worked out. They would pull some sheet rock and discover it was a bigger issue. But later. That was out of my control. I needed to get some sleep and prepare myself for tomorrow.
