Trainwreck 2 (Trainwreck #2) (13 page)

“Holy shit. That was so fucking amazing,” I found myself saying aloud.

“What’s amazing, Mr. Golden?”

The familiar voice caught me by surprise, catapulting me back to reality. I snapped my eyes open. It was goddamn Miss Thatcher holding a stack of files. I felt myself flush. Stupid me. I had left the fucking door open, giving her easy access to my office.

I caught my breath, well aware of the raging boner beneath my desk. I squirmed in my chair as she cleared her throat.

“You need to read these contracts over and sign them. And then get ready for the board meeting.”

“Fine. Bring them here, please.”

There was no way I was going to stand up and let my secretary see the pitched tent between my thighs. The truth is, the spindly spinster had probably never seen one in her life. And that’s the way I wanted to keep it.

Wordlessly, she dropped the folders on my desk. “Oh and by the way, while you were
busy
, your sister called and asked for you to call her back. She said it was urgent.”

My breath hitched in my throat. “Thank you, Miss Thatcher. Hold all my calls and please shut my door.”

My phone was already in my hand as the prude marched toward the door, closing it behind her as she exited my office. Wasting no time, I immediately speed-dialed Gwen. My heart beat into a frenzy as she told me the news.

One of her PIs had spotted Cassandra heading into Bergdorf’s but then had lost her. Shit. That’s where my Princess was going and she should be there soon. I had to call Sarah. Warn her. Fuck. I couldn’t. I cursed again, now berating myself for not having gotten her another phone.

The next best thing. I called Andre. Except I couldn’t get through to him. All fucking circuits were busy. Shit. In a panic, I asked Miss Thatcher to contact our cell phone carrier, and I learned soon enough the entire system was fucked up. It could be hours until the problem was fixed.

A Molotov cocktail of rage and apprehension consumed me, including my hard on. Grabbing my letter opener, I stabbed it into the pile of folders and then flung the stack all over the floor. Madness surged through me as all my delicious thoughts of Sarah were replaced by my inability to control my psycho bitch ex. As powerful a man as I was, I felt powerless. I slammed my fist on my desk.

Goddamn fucking Cassandra.

Sarah

D
uring the long, uneventful ride back to Manhattan, only one person filled my mind. Ari Golden. The complicated head of Golden International was no longer a stranger on a train. He was the man I unconditionally loved.

Obviously, I was important to him. He had admired me from afar for months and kept a photo of me on his desk. He had also mentioned me to his therapist. I wondered—had he discussed his feelings about me with his shrink? And had the L-word ever entered the conversation?

There were only three words I longed to hear from him: “I love you.” Until I heard him say them, I wasn’t sure what the future would bring.

###
♥
###

Andre let me off at the main entrance of Bergdorf’s on Fifth Avenue; he was going to wait for me until I was done, then take me home.

I had been here only once before—to pick up a Chanel lipstick for Catherine, Ari’s ex-wife. The thought of her made me shudder, but I remembered my mother’s words of wisdom. “Sarah, you are a warrior princess. Don’t let her stand in the way of your career or the man you love.” I took a deep breath and pretended I was Xena as I entered the store. I was back on track and I wasn’t going to let the Queen Bitch derail me.

Mentally holding a spear, I headed straight to the elevator bypassing the makeup department along the way. My knee was still stiff so it was difficult to move quickly. I was the last one to step into the elevator before the doors closed. I was surrounded by a bevy of chicly dressed, perfectly coiffed women, who reminded me of the main women in Ari’s life—his mother, sister, and ex. Although my Sarah, plain and tall, persona was already knocking at the door, I held my own. Several shoppers shot me looks of surprise when I alone got off on the exclusive fourth floor.

When I stepped out of the elevator, my jaw dropped. I felt like I was in a fairy-tale land. Amidst mirrors, Lucite, and gilt, the softly lit floor was filled with dazzling gowns in all colors. Every one of them looked like it belonged on a princess and was ready for its first dance.

An attractive, smartly dressed woman, who, with her tight chignon, reminded me of a younger version of Ari’s elegant mother, immediately greeted me. Dawn. Adjusting her half-moon glasses, she gave me a once over and smiled. The glimmer in her eye told me she approved of Ari’s choice in women. I wondered if she once dressed Cassandra. Fortunately, she cut my mental ramblings short before I let them rattle me.

“Dear, let’s start with the dress and move our way to shoes and accessories and then on to hair and makeup.”

Hair and makeup?
My heart stammered. I had no idea that Ari was giving me a total makeover.

“I’ll show you a few gowns that Mr. Golden might like; we have more to choose from in the dressing room.”

The first dress Dawn showed me was a silver-blue Armani sheath with a thigh-high slit. The second was a strapless red crêpe de chine number by Valentino. While they were both stunning and “so Ari,” neither of them really spoke to me. In fact, they were much better suited for Catherine with her supermodel figure. To my dismay, she again crept into my head. Dammit. Calling upon my warrior princess powers, I hurled my imaginary spear at her and banished all thoughts of her.

My mind re-focused on what to wear. I wanted something different. Something that called out my name. My eyes darted around the salon and then landed on a mannequin that was wearing a dress that transported me to another world, another time. My heart fluttered as excitement pulsed through me. It was an extravagant blush pink ball gown with a pouf of tulle that cascaded over a full taffeta skirt. Two spaghetti straps held it up. “I’d like to try that one on,” I said, pointing to it.

“Oh, the Dior.” Dawn smiled approvingly. “It just came in. It’s couture and by special order. The one on the mannequin is a Size 4.” She looked me up and down, her smile widening. “I think it’ll fit you perfectly.”

While I was normally a six, I was sure I’d dropped a size from my stressful week. Even the skirt I was wearing was too big.

Dawn studied my outfit. My ill-fitting pink career girl ensemble finished off with a pair of scruffy combat boots. God, what must she be thinking? Instead, another smile spread on her face.

“I can already tell from what you’re wearing, pink becomes you. I’ll get someone to bring the gown into the dressing room.”

After summoning a young sales assistant to transport the dress, Dawn escorted me to the dressing room. Room 4. My eyes grew wide. With its peach-upholstered walls and matching plush carpet, it was bigger than my living room. There was a rack of other dresses that might interest me along with velvet ottomans, a three-way lighted mirror, and a wall phone. I imagined that the room had been used by many royals, heads of state, and women of means. I wondered—had Catherine ever set foot in it? The thought chilled me.
Stop it, Sarah, Warrior Princess!

“Would you like a glass of champagne?” offered Dawn, stopping me in my unsettling thoughts as we awaited the dress.

“No, thank you,” I replied though truthfully I craved one.

A few minutes later the exquisite gown showed up. Dawn instructed her associate to hang it up and then asked me to get undressed.

I tensed. Suddenly, I remembered I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Gah! Should I politely ask her to leave? Or maybe I could just leave my skirt on and slip the dress over it? Biting down on my lip, I contemplated what to do.

“Would you like me to help you?” Dawn asked as I procrastinated.

“Um, uh, I’m fine. I’m sure I can get the dress on by myself.” The truth is I was freaking out because I’d never tried on such an extravagant dress or such an exorbitant one. I had to blink twice at the price tag. Oh. My. God. Not, three thousand dollars but thirty! Was that possible? I was almost afraid to touch it and wished Dawn were staying.

It was too late. Obliging, Dawn gave me my privacy and left the room. Taking a deep calming breath, I took off my sweater, but kept my skirt on along with my boots. Praying that I could get into it all by myself, I carefully slipped the voluminous gown over my head, poking my arms through the spaghetti straps and then shimmying down the rest of it. The layers of rich fabric felt so incredible. So beyond anything I’d ever known.

“How are you doing, dear?” asked Dawn, who was stationed outside the room.

“Um, uh, pretty good. I just need some help with the zipper.”

The door swung open and my personal shopper stepped back inside, zipping me up in no time. She made a couple of adjustments and then with a smile, she said, “Take a look-see.”

My heart beating with anticipation, I turned to face the mirror. Blinking my eyes several times, I gasped. The gorgeous dress fit me to a tee. Oh my goodness! I looked like a real princess in the making.

“I love it!” I exclaimed.

“Wonderful,” beamed Dawn. “It’s positively stunning on you. While it’s quite a departure from Mr. Golden’s taste, I believe he enjoys being challenged.”

That was a fact.

She cast her eyes down at my scruffy combat boots, which stuck out from under the dress, and then at my shoddy messenger bag that I’d set down on an ottoman. As much as I loved my two staples, embarrassment crept through me as she said, “Now, dear, let’s get you shoes and accessories.”

With Dawn’s help, I took off my princess gown though the truth is I didn’t want to. She promptly escorted me to the second floor designer shoe department where I chose a pair of Manolo Blahnik stilettos that looked like they could be Cinderella’s glass slippers and then to the first floor, which housed accessories and jewelry. She showed me a pair of pink satin opera gloves that went up to my elbows. I agreed to them thinking they would, at least, mask my bandaged hand. I also picked out a lovely pink beaded clutch bag to carry my bare necessities—some form of ID, lip gloss, and my house keys. Sadly, I no longer had Ari’s special “emergency” one hundred-dollar bill. It was now in the hands of that mugger who had probably already spent it.

While I shoved the creep to the back of my mind, Dawn led me over to the jewelry department. I was practically blinded by the bling, all of it breathtaking. Her words rolled through my ears.

“Mr. Golden would like you to pick out anything you want.”

Anything?
The word sent shockwaves through me. I mean, these pieces must cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and that was just for starters.

My fluttering eyes searched the lit up display cases. What wasn’t there to love? But there was one piece that stood out. A magnificent diamond tiara. It looked like an antique.

“Can I please see the tiara?” I said meekly as I hovered over it.

“Of course,” replied Dawn. “It’s a vintage piece that dates back to the nineteenth century. We believe it belonged to Princess Sophia of Bavaria.”

Wow! A real princess once wore this, I thought as the sales associate retrieved it and handed it to Dawn. While I stood as still as a statue, my fairy godmother gently placed it on top of my head.

“Take a look.” Smiling, she gestured to the mirror on the counter.

Hesitantly, I did as she asked and gawked at my reflection. “Oh my God,” I cried out. I was no longer Sarah, plain and tall. I was officially Princess Sarah!

“Perfection!” exclaimed Dawn.

“I’ll bring it back tomorrow.” I spat out the words, knowing there was no way I could keep such an extravagant gift.

“Please don’t.” Still smiling, Dawn shook her head. “Mr. Golden will not allow it.”

My breath hitched. This man was divinely out of his mind. I was still going to bring it back. And the dress, too, if possible. A sudden pang of guilt ripped through me. How could I accept such extravagant things when I couldn’t afford to pay for my mother’s care? If the store wouldn’t take them back, perhaps I could sell them and put the money toward her treatments. So much of me wished that Ari would help me out with them, but I couldn’t tell him how to spend his money. And it wasn’t his responsibility. However, he couldn’t stop me from selling his gifts. Besides, I had no further use for them after tonight. My mother came first. While she would be devastated by my actions if she found out, I had no choice. With resolve and some peace of mind, I followed Dawn back to the elevator.

The next stop was the hair salon on the ninth floor. Dawn had brought along the tiara. My flamboyant hairdresser, Miguel, immediately knew how he wanted to style my long hair. With his magic hands, he whipped it into a regal, simple chignon before placing the tiara on my head. I gazed at myself in the mirror and gaped yet again. With my big, wide-set brown eyes, I was channeling Audrey Hepburn in
Roman Holiday
. I truly looked like a princess.

Finally, makeup. Dawn brought me, ironically, to the Chanel counter, where a makeup artist, an attractive young woman named June and about my age, did my face while I sat on a high stool.