Chapter Four

Be ready for anything.

I leave Braden’s office quietly and murmur a quick apology to his assistant.

My heart races as I return to my apartment. I haven’t checked my Instagram in hours, and that’s unlike me, since I’m a new influencer and I need to gain followers daily. The news from Betsy completely unraveled me. Quickly, I respond to several comments, make a few deletions, and then check my email. Nothing that needs my immediate attention, thank God.

I have a few hours until I’m due at Braden’s place. He’s justifiably angry with me, and truth be told, I’m pretty damned angry with myself. Addison is a liar. Why did I even consider for one moment taking her word over the man I love? So he ended their relationship abruptly. So what?

I’ll make this up to him. But how?

Search engines call out to me. But no, I will not spend the afternoon trying to uncover information on Braden and Addison. I haven’t possibly left any stones unturned at this point.

I leave the apartment quickly. Without knowing where I’m going, I end up at Crystal’s Closet, a local lingerie boutique. Strange. I hardly ever venture into this kind of shop. But here I am, so I browse.

And I browse.

Not for a minute do I think sexy lingerie will make up for what I did to Braden this afternoon, but maybe it will be a good start.

“May I help you find something?” a salesclerk asks.

“No, thank you.”

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything.” She smiles.

I return her smile and then, “Actually, maybe I do need some help, but it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“No need to be embarrassed. What can I help you with?”

“Something…submissive.”

“We have some lovely leather bustiers near the back. Would you like to take a look?”

Warmth creeps into my cheeks. “Yes, please.”

I follow the clerk to the back of the store. Not only are there leather bustiers but fishnet stockings, stiletto platform heels, and an array of toys.

Braden has his own toys, and I can’t even begin to presume whether he would like any of these. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t do his shopping at Crystal’s Closet.

“We have some leather thongs, but I personally think a black lace thong goes better with one of these bustiers.”

“I’m thinking maybe…” My cheeks are warming again. “I’m thinking maybe no thong at all.”

“Good idea,” she says with another smile. “I don’t think most significant others would complain. What’s your bra size?”

“Thirty-six C.”

She grabs a bustier from the rack. “Try this one. I think it will flatter your figure.”

I take the garment and head into a dressing room. I look around. Hidden cameras, anyone? I wouldn’t be surprised. The stuff isn’t cheap. I have my money from Susanne Cosmetics, but am I being ridiculous, contemplating spending some of it on a two-hundred-dollar leather bustier?

Will Braden even appreciate it? He likes toys, yes, but what if he decides to rip this off me like he ripped my dress?

Of course, he also replaced the dress.

I remove my blouse and bra and stare at myself in the mirror. The bustier is not a corset. I don’t need help pulling strings. It has some subtle elastic to help it conform to most figures. I wrap it around myself and snap the hooks together in front. It takes me a moment to look in the mirror.

When I finally ease my eyes onto my reflection, they widen.

This is sexy. Really sexy.

I always have good cleavage, but this is better than the best push-up bra. The sides conform to my curves, leading to my mid-rise jeans but leaving about an inch of flesh visible.

“How’s it going in there?” the salesgirl asks.

“Good,” I say. “I’m going to take this one. It’s perfect.”

“Awesome. Do you want me to bring anything else to the dressing room?”

Fishnet stockings cross my mind. And the platform stilettos. But as I gaze again at my reflection, I realize I’ll look a lot sexier in this bustier with jeans than I will tripping across the carpet in fishnets and stilettos.

“No, I think this will be all for today.”

“Perfect. Just meet me at the cash register.”

I stare at my reflection for a few more seconds. Two hundred dollars is a lot of money for a garment I’ll probably never wear in public. I contemplate calling Tessa, but I already know what she’ll say.

Let your hair down, Skye. Have some fun.

I smile at myself.

Then I follow Tessa’s advice literally. I pull my hair out of its ponytail, shake my head, and let it fall over my shoulders.

Yeah, this is fucking hot.

I can’t wait to show Braden.

…

Back at my apartment, I can’t resist. I don the bustier once more and then check my makeup, touching up my Susanne Cherry Russet lip stain. Crystal’s Closet hasn’t offered me any money to promote their products, but why not? Originally I thought I wouldn’t wear this in public, but the coverage is adequate. Luckily, my arms are long enough to get a great shot that includes the one-inch sliver of exposed flesh between the leather and denim of my jeans. I quickly compose a post.

Check out my new purchase from @crystalsclosetboston. #sexybustier #crystalscloset #susannecherryrusset

In less than ten minutes, I’m inundated with responses.

Braden Black is a lucky man!

Great rack!

You look fabulous!

Item number please! My boyfriend will love that.

I check the tag that I’ve already ripped off the bustier and reply quickly with the item number as the comments and likes continue to roll in.

Again, I check my reflection in the mirror.

You’re a fraud.

I gasp. Where did those words come from? I hear them in Addie’s voice, though she didn’t comment on my post. I’m not a fraud. Besides, this bustier is flattering. No one can deny that.

I quickly whitewash the idea from my mind, grab a jacket to cover the bustier, and head to the bakery. Braden didn’t say anything about dinner, but six thirty p.m. usually means a meal. I’ll take one of my favorite baguettes.

After grabbing the bread, I return to my apartment and check my post.

Damn! The thing has exploded. Nearly a thousand likes!

And comments galore. I scan them quickly, looking for potential deletions. Addie will have a field day with this one, but I don’t find anything from her. Good. She’s been quiet for the last several days. Clearly, she doesn’t want me to block her any more than I want her to block me. We need to keep apprised of each other.

Is it possible that I could one day be as big an influencer as Addison Ames?

You’re a fraud.

I ignore the words once more.

Christopher will be here soon to pick me up, so I go to my room and quickly run a brush through my hair. I love the feel of it over my bare shoulders. Will Braden like my bustier?

Then a knock on the door. I throw on my dark-brown suede jacket once more before answering it.

Christopher stands there, wearing his usual black. “Good evening, Ms. Manning.”

“We’ve talked about this. Please call me Skye.”

“Right. Skye.”

“I’m ready.” Then, “Oh, wait a minute. I picked up a baguette for dinner.” I grab it off the table and follow Christopher down to the Mercedes parked outside my building.

“How’s Penny?” I ask him. I miss my puppy so much, but my gift from Braden has to live at his penthouse, since my place doesn’t allow pets.

“Adorable as ever, though she’s a handful. She’s definitely keeping Sasha on her toes.”

I smile. “Have you taken her on a walk?”

“Several short ones. She’s only two months old, so her attention span isn’t great, but she has to learn to go to the bathroom outside.”

“I can’t wait to see her.”

We’re silent for the rest of the ride. I find myself unconsciously pushing my toes against the floor in the back seat, trying to make Christopher drive faster. I’m eager to see Penny, but even more than that, I’m electrically charged to see Braden.

I can’t believe I almost ruined what we have earlier today.

Be ready for anything.

Braden’s words when I left his office. My nipples harden against the leather of my bustier.

Be ready for anything.

He’ll probably want to punish me for barging into his office, interrupting an important phone call, and then lobbing accusations at him.

It’s no less than I deserve.

Anticipation grips me as Christopher pulls into the underground parking lot of Braden’s building.

It grips me as we walk to the elevator.

It grips me as we ascend to the penthouse.

It grips me as the elevator door opens into Braden’s place. I expect Sasha and Penny to run to greet me.

But they don’t. Where are they?

I turn to Christopher to ask, but he’s not there. How does he disappear into thin air?

“Braden?” I call out tentatively.

Silence.

“Christopher? Annika? Marilyn?” He may have others who work here, but I don’t know their names. “Penny? Sasha?”

Again, silence.

I sigh, walk into the kitchen, and place the baguette on the island countertop. No smells of cooking, and the stovetop is sparkling clean. I open the refrigerator door. Just basic staples, no dinner waiting to be heated. No drinks poured.

This is my punishment? No dinner? No dogs?

No Braden?

I leave the kitchen and walk to Braden’s bedroom. I knock, but no one answers. So I turn the doorknob slowly and enter.

“Braden?”

Silence greets me again, so I walk into the room. I inhale. An aroma. I can’t place it.

The bed is made, and when I gaze upward, I see the remnants of his harness thing have been removed. Fresh spackle and paint have been applied over the holes in the ceiling where the contraption once hung. That’s the aroma. Fresh paint.

A sliver of relief surges through me. I wasn’t excited about the prospect of being harnessed and suspended above Braden’s bed. Clearly, though, he just had the contraption removed today. Possibly even after our meeting in his office. Why?

“Braden?” I say again.

I walk to the bathroom, which is also vacant. I open his giant walk-in closet, but only clothes and the smell of his cedar shoe rack greet me.

Obviously he’s expecting me, or Christopher would not have come for me.

“What’s going on, Braden?” I say out loud.

Since the room is empty, I jerk when I actually get a response.