I shook my head; Donnie had said I was a dreamer, and he was right. He was also the one that brought it out in me.

  “He gets embarrassed whenever anyone compliments him,” Matilda was saying. “I think it’s cute.”

  Jorge grunted. “Cute does not help with fittings. However, my love, you are my inspiration.”

  Britt, Melody, and I all glanced at each other, Britt pressing her hand over her mouth to hold in her laughter. A declaration of that sort from Jorge was unheard of; I must remember to tell Michael.

  “How far along are you?” I asked Matilda.

  “Twelve weeks,” she replied. “We’ll learn the gender soon,” Jorge muttered again, and Matilda gave him an indulgent smile. “Jorge would rather be surprised.”

  “Well, we need to know how to shop,” Britt declared, “and since I’m the bride, I’m in charge.”

  Matilda’s smile widened. “I like that.”

  “So, Jorge,” I began, “are you and Matilda coming to my party tonight?”

  Jorge glanced at his wife. “It depends on the lady,” Jorge replied. “She tires very easily now.”

  “I think we can stop by,” Matilda said. “Besides, I’m dying to meet the Donato. Melody said he’s cute.”

  I shot a glance at Melody, who shrugged. “It’s true,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Britt said. “He cooks, and he’s a looker too.”

  “Careful, or I’ll tell Sam you have wandering eyes,” I warned. Britt made a shooing gesture, so I turned back to Jorge. “Do you have any dresses around here that might look good on me? One that’s finished, that I could wear tonight?”

  Jorge looked at me over the rim of his glasses. “What sort of dress?”

  “Like the mod one Britt wore for Michael’s showing,” I replied. “Something elegant, yet sexy. Something memorable.”

  Jorge rubbed his chin. “I believe I have something for you.”

  ***

  As always, Jorge made good on his words.

  While Melody helped Britt get out of her wedding gown, I followed Jorge into his storage room. He started sliding hangers back and forth on the suspended rods, searching for a dress like the one I’d described, when my gaze fell on one of the most stunning dresses I had ever seen. It was a red caftan, cinched in at the waist with a burnt orange sash and slit up both sides. The wide, billowing sleeves and the bottom hem were embroidered in the same burnt orange and accented with gold, making the dress resemble a summer sunset.

  “This is gorgeous,” I declared, swiping it from the rack and holding it against me to assess the fit. It looked perfect. “Jorge, you are the greatest tailor in the universe.”

  “Perhaps, but that is not truly one of my creations,” he said. “I am only responsible for the decoration.”

  “Still, it’s gorgeous.” I walked over to the mirror, and imagined Donnie’s face when he saw me in that dress. “How much?”

  Jorge grunted, then he removed his glasses and polished the lenses. “Unfortunately, tailors do also need to eat. I cannot merely gift it to you.”

  “That’s fine.” I hung the dress on a rack and reached into my purse for my money envelope; since I planned on ordering the food and liquor for my party after the fitting, I’d brought it along. “How much?”

  “Astrid, the silk was quite expensive, and the embroidery time consuming—”

  “How. Much.”

  “I cannot let it go for less than three hundred.”

  I counted out three hundred-dollar bills and handed them over. “I thought you said it would be expensive,” I said.

  “That is the friend price,” he replied. “A moment, and I will wrap it up for you.”

  “Okay.”

  I went back out to the changing area, and approached the girls. “I have my dress,” I announced. “Who wants to go party shopping with me?”

  “I will,” Britt said. “Now that I have money I love shopping almost as much as you do.”

  If she only knew. “Awesome. Mel, Matilda, are you coming too?”

  “I have some things to do for the wedding,” Melody replied.

  “Should I be helping with that?” I was seriously slacking off on my maid of honor duties.

  “No, it’s fine,” Melody said. “I just need to follow up with the catering service. Really, I’ve got this.”

  “You can use Jorge’s office, if you’d like,” Matilda said. “I’ll be in there taking a nap.”

  “It’s settled, then,” I declared. Jorge brought out my dress, so I put on my coat and grabbed my purse. “Come on, Britt, I’ll drop off my dress and then we can shop like we mean it. See you three tonight!”

  Chapter

  Thirty-One

  Astrid

  After buying a dress from Jorge and stocking up on liquor and food for the party, I barely had enough money left for the cab fare home; it’s amazing how fast two grand can be gone. And it’s not like I even needed the dress, what with my full to bursting closet, but I wanted to look nice for Donnie. He’d only ever seen me dressed up at Kendra’s show, and I wanted our reunion to be special.

  I’d just finished my hair when the liquor was delivered. As soon as I had that sorted, the party trays of sandwiches and other appetizers arrived. I fussed over the platters like I never had before, setting them this way and that. Before I knew it eight o’clock rolled around, and I just had time to slip on my fabulous new dress before my first guests arrived.

  All the usual suspects arrived—Michael and his pack of beautiful boys, Britt and Sam, and even Matilda. It seemed that Jorge had some kind of pressing fabric deadline, and had handed his wife over to Melody for the evening. They made a cute couple.

  “Hey, Mama,” I greeted Matilda, “you and my niece going to party all night?”

  “We’ll be lucky if we make it until nine,” Matilda replied. “This baby growing business is tiring.”

  “I bet it is,” I said.

  I heard the doorbell, and turned around just as Britt opened the door for Donnie. I don’t think I admitted to myself just how much I missed him until that moment, when I saw him standing there wearing jeans, a black wool coat over a button down white shirt, and tan work boots. Even though I was home, looking at him was my homecoming. My heart fluttered just looking at him.

  Donnie’s gaze found me, and he strode across the room. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey, yourself,” I replied. “I’ve never seen you in jeans.”

  He looked down at his clothes and frowned. “I didn’t know what to wear. Is this okay?”

  “It’s fine.” I leaned close, and whispered, “Your butt looks great.”

  Donnie grinned, then he kissed me. “Missed you, babe.”

  I tucked myself under his arm. “Missed you too.” He squeezed me against him and kissed my hair. “Like my dress? I got it just for the party.”

  Donnie glanced at my dress, then he put his mouth close to my ear and whispered, “You look great in it, but I like you better naked.”

  “Stop that,” I said, pushing at his chest. “You’re distracting me, and I have guests.”

  I grabbed Donnie’s hand and led him around the party, introducing him to my people. He got along fine with everyone, though he didn’t quite know what to make of Michael. That was just as well, since Michael doesn’t know what to make of himself, either.

  We drifted apart after a while, with Donnie making new friends and me doing the hostess thing. He found me about an hour later, as I refilled one of the appetizer platters.

  “Need a drink?” he asked, nodding toward my glass.

  “I think I’ll get some plain seltzer,” I said. Normally I drank my seltzer with vodka, but it just wasn’t sitting well with me. Maybe all the well drinks at the bar had permanently affected my taste buds.

  Donnie followed me into the kitchen and watched me refill my glass. “Are you having fun?” I asked.

  “I am,” he replied, then he stepped closer and slid his arms around my waist. “Have I told you that you’re beautiful?” Donnie’s breath tickled my neck, sending little shivers up and down my spine.

  “You may have mentioned it.” I turned around, and Donnie cupped my face with his hands, and brushed his lips against mine. “Kitchen’s not really private,” I teased.

  “And I saw the hundred coats piled on your bed,” he said.

  “Is your Jeep snug as a bug in my parking space?” I asked.

  “You know it,” he said. “And I don’t plan on moving it until Monday morning.”

  His brown eyes were intense, so intense my hands shook and my throat went dry. “Come with me,” I said, taking his hand. I led him into the bathroom, then I shut the door behind us.

  “What’s this all about?” he asked.

  “You know what this is about,” I said, then I grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him hard. Donnie was stunned for a moment, then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. My back pressed against the bathroom door as I fumbled for the lock.

  “It’s locked?” he asked.

  “Locked.”

  Donnie slid his hands down my back and over my hips, then he picked me up and set me on the counter. He kissed a path down my neck while one of his hands cupped my breast, the other kneading my hip.

  “Are you wearing anything underneath this?” he asked, pinching my nipple. He slid his hand underneath the side slit and around to my butt. “Not even panties?”

  “Ruins the line of the dress,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t want you to sacrifice anything for fashion.” He smirked, then he pushed my knees apart. His hand left my hip to caress my inner thigh. “This okay?” he asked.

  I nodded and let him nudge my legs farther apart. Donnie dragged his knuckles down my lips, then he rubbed a bit harder and I moaned.

  “That it?” he asked.

  “That’s it.”

  He rubbed harder, and I held him in a vise grip as I pressed my face against his neck. The way he rubbed my clit was amazing, warmth pooling low and spreading throughout my hips, my back. Then, he slipped two fingers inside me and I broke.

  Donnie sealed his mouth over mine, stifling my screams as I came. He kept working me and my orgasm just kept coming, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me. Eventually I floated back to earth and slumped against him.

  “My girl, the screamer,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple.

  “I can’t believe we just did that,” I panted.

  “You okay with it?” Donnie asked, his brows lowered. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Hush,” I said, placing my fingertips on his lips. “You know I loved it.”

  Someone rattled the door handle, bringing us back to reality. “One second,” Donnie called, then he planted a hand on either side of my hips and looked me in the eye. “We good?”

  “We’re fucking amazing,” I said, and he smiled. “How are you doing?” I said, glancing at the bulge in his jeans. “I think I owe you something.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “C’mon, people are waiting.”

  Donnie lifted me off the counter, with me grabbing his belt for balance. After what happened it was only fair. While he adjusted his clothes I touched up my hair and makeup, then I faced him.

  “I’m glad you’re staying this weekend,” I said.

  Donnie grabbed my hips and kissed me hard. “Me too.”

  ***

  All of my parties were successful, but this one was especially so.

  The food ran out a little while before midnight, but by then everyone was more concerned with drinking anyway. While I was stacking the empty trays on the kitchen counter, Matilda pulled out a surprise of her own—party hats and noisemakers. After we’d left the shop she raided Jorge’s supply closet, and packed up everything that looked vaguely New Year’s-related. Melody said it was an excuse for Matilda to rebel against Jorge’s hoarding ways, but I didn’t care. And she’d brought extra Champagne.

  Michael filled glasses while Sam downloaded some countdown app, and we all crowded around his phone as we waited for midnight. When there were about thirty seconds left, Donnie whispered in my ear.

  “You know what they say about the midnight kiss?”

  I turned and wound my arms around his neck. “Tell me.”

  “Whoever you kiss at midnight is the one you’ll be kissing all year.”

  Around us, the rest counted out the seconds, then collectively yelled, “One!” as they threw glitter and confetti. I ignored them all, and let Donnie kiss me until I forgot my name.

  “I’m going to kiss you all year now?” I asked a few moments later.

  “Rules are rules, babe.”

  Chapter

  Thirty-Two

  Astrid

  I woke up sometime in the middle of the morning on my couch. With a groan I sat up and surveyed the remains of my apartment, half buried underneath scattered glasses and plates of partially eaten, dried out food. It definitely looked like a party had happened here, but I’d seen worse. Hell, I’d caused worse.

  I heard fabric rustling from the direction of the loveseat. There was Donnie, fast asleep and sprawled every which way, rumpled and adorable as only he could be. I wondered who’d fallen asleep first; probably me, based on my constant exhaustion thanks to my bar shifts. Thankfully, it looked like that chapter of my life would be closed down soon enough.

  I watched my sleeping man and felt like the luckiest person alive. After all the bad luck I’d endured over the past few months, having someone like Donnie coming into my life was nothing short of a miracle, and I wanted to tell him how I felt. I had three whole days in which to do it.

  I stood and walked over to him, then I leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Sleep tight, baby,” I said, then I went into my kitchen in search of my phone charger and some coffee. I plugged in my phone, then I grabbed the bag of coffee grounds and a filter. I’d just poured the water when Sleeping Beauty himself decided to join me.

  “Morning, babe,” Donnie said, sliding his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. “Been up long?”

  “Just a few minutes.” I turned around and slipped my arms around his neck, tilting my face up for a kiss. “Sleep well?”

  “Not as well as you,” he said. “You were snoring like a buzz saw.”

  I smacked his chest. “I was not.”

  “Was so.” He kissed me before I could protest, then he looked around the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Leftovers?” I said. Donnie frowned, then he proceeded to look through my cabinets, fridge, and freezer, which were so bare I could be living in a nursery rhyme. Instead of defending my sparse kitchen, I wrung my hands and stared at the wall.

  “Where is your food?” Donnie demanded, staring into my empty freezer. “You’ve got enough booze to stock a bar, but nothing to eat.”

  “It all went to the party,” I said, but he shook his head.

  “That was party food,” he said. “Where’s your real food, milk, eggs?”

  “I have to watch my weight—”

  “Bullshit,” he said. “There’s nothing here but crackers and olives. You don’t even have anything to drink that’s not a mixer.”

  I just stood there, opening and closing my mouth like a fish. Donnie’s frown deepened, then he stepped up to me and cupped my face with his hands. “What is it, babe? Something happen?” When I remained silent, he added, “Let me help you.”

  “I don’t need any help,” I said, pulling away. “So I overspent for the party? It’s all right. I’ll just go shopping later.”

  “Shopping for food, or shoes?” he asked.

  “Maybe both,” I said with a wink.

  “Maybe not,” he said, unaffected. “Is this why you have two phones?”

  “What? How is that any of your business?” I demanded.

  “One for bill collectors, and another for friends?” he pressed. “I’ve had friends make money mistakes. You need a loan to get back on your feet?”

  “I do not need a loan,” I snapped. “How dare you insinuate that I can’t manage my life!”

  “I ain’t insinuating shit,” he snapped back. “You’ve got shoes that cost more than a car, but you’re going to starve to death!”

  “They have food at shoots,” I said, and it was only a small lie. The larger shoots always had a food table, but no model worth her salt ever ate from it. “Why should I buy groceries when I get fed at work?”

  “What day is today?” Donnie asked.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Today. What day is it?”

  “Friday.”

  “You told me that you’re not working until Monday.”

  I turned away, unable to bear his pity. “So?”

  “So, what are you going to do until then?” he asked softly. When I remained silent he stepped forward and gathered me against him. “It’s okay, babe. You’ve got me.”

  “Are you going to cook me something with air ingredients?” I sniffed.

  “Nah, I think we’ll go out for breakfast,” he replied, and I laughed. “When we get back, you’ll show me your bills and we’ll make a plan.”

  I met his gaze. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ll show me what you owe, and we’ll figure out a plan,” he replied. “Something else you could do is sell some of those clothes. Consignment places pay pretty well, or you could do it online.”

  “Excuse me?” I repeated, stepping away from him. “Who do you think you are, telling me what to do with my money? And sell my clothes? What the hell will I wear if I sell my clothes?”

  “I’m just trying to help,” he said. “Obviously you need a little financial guidance.”

  My blood boiled and I clenched my hands. “Get out.”

 

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