Chapter 21

Gemma

The dress that Vincent bought me fit me like a glove. I had never even seen a dress like that in person before, let alone actually worn one. It was a beautiful red silk with thin shoulder straps and a plunging neckline. The skirt ballooned from my waist and made a rustling sound with every step I took. He had even bought a pair of shoes that went with the dress, black velvet stilettos in two separate sizes, because he wasn’t sure which one would fit.

He was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs and turned to look up when I started descending. Tim was there, too, and both men had wide smiles on their faces. I had tied my hair up in a loose bun on the side of my head so that a few wispy black curls fell free around my face. Vincent had left a new bag of makeup and a box with small diamond ear studs on the dressing table for me to use.

The result was stunning when I looked at myself in the mirror for the final once-over. The red lipstick I had picked matched the dress and made the color on my cheeks pop. I’d lined my eyes with jet black kohl, which made my eyes glow and dance. The diamond earrings shone brilliantly with every ray of light. I felt like a princess. A nervous princess, and I could feel my hands shaking as I climbed down the stairs toward Vincent.

The smile he had on his face then was very different from ones I’d seen before. He nearly looked prideful. What did he have to be proud about? Me? I was convinced that I looked like an amateur in this dress. I had no idea how to carry this look off.

Vincent looked struck, his dimples deepening as he held out a hand to me.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Gemma.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear. I blushed a deep red… just like my dress. He led me out of the house, where the black Mercedes was waiting for us. Vincent opened the door for me before he walked around and we were sitting back in the car together.

I was uncomfortable in the dress, still apprehensive about going to this party and meeting his old buddies. What did he plan on telling his friends? Who was he going to introduce me as?

We rode in relative silence, and Vincent held my hand tightly on his lap. Besides the nervousness I was feeling, guilt had also overtaken my body. My mother’s voice kept floating back into my head, my embarrassment of the trailer park, my knowledge that Vincent didn’t know the truth about me. It all came flooding in. What was I doing? What had I gotten myself into?

When the car stopped, my limbs froze. Vincent left my side to come around and open the door for me again. I was breathing in and out harshly, trying to steady my heartbeat. Vincent held out his hand again and when I stepped out, I noticed the bright lights at the entrance of the building we were about to enter.

“This is going to be a great night, Gemma. Thank you for accompanying me,” he said as I clung to him. I was anxious to get this over with. Everything was new and foreign to me. The heels were making me uncomfortable, and I was conscious of the plunging neckline on the dress. I almost felt dizzy as I walked beside him.

“Vincent.” I said in a whisper, and he turned to me. He was in a dashing tuxedo, his dark hair and eyes matching the blackness of his clothes. He towered over me, and his arm was strong and muscular where I was holding him.

“Yes?” he said in a carefree voice, bending his head down so his ear was aligned to my mouth. I forgot what I was going to say. I didn’t even remember if I had anything to say. Everything was overwhelming, especially the grand room that we had just entered.

Dim lights in crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a classical band was up on a stage at the end of the room, playing music I had never heard before. Everyone was smartly dressed, everyone looked richer and more polished than I could ever be. Vincent led me through the groups of people and was smiling at them all, thumping the backs of some.

I wanted to call out to him again. I wanted to go back home. I was suddenly homesick and felt very out of place. I was convinced that everyone was looking at me, at how ridiculous I looked in that beautiful dress.

“There they are! Come, meet my friends,” Vincent said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I could feel pearls of sweat forming on my forehead as Vincent let my hand go so he could walk ahead of me. I tried to hurry behind him, carefully on my heels, but he had gone far ahead of me. I was ready to simply sink to the floor and collapse in a heap. The dress felt like a prison. The room felt like a prison. The music sounded very loud.

“Chicken liver pate, madam?” I turned around to find a uniformed server holding up a silver platter in front of my face.

“What?” I snapped, my face burning up.

“Chicken liver pate?” the man repeated, while I stared at him blankly. I had no idea what he was saying.

“Gemma, over here.” Vincent’s voice made me turn around, and I found him standing with a group of people and waving. The others had their curious faces turned to me as well.