Chapter 22
Allie
Melissa met me at the mall while I was trying on a red lace dress. She dropped her purse on the table as she sank down into a chair in front of my fitting room, looked me up and down, and shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not that one. Too red.”
“Too red?” I asked, planting a hand on my hip. “What does that even mean?”
“Meh,” she shrugged, waving me away to try to get me to go back into the fitting room. “I don’t like it. It doesn’t scream ‘Steven Marx’s date,’ you know? And that’s really what you want, right?”
“Right,” I said, starting to catch her drift. “This is why I invited you. I can never handle these kinds of things on my own. I’m useless.”
“You’re not useless. You just don’t have as good of an eye for fashion as I do. That’s not your fault. Now go back in there and show me the next one.”
I retreated back into the fitting room and shimmied out of the red dress. As I took a navy blue satin number off its hanger, Melissa called through the door to me. “So are you nervous about the party?”
I shrugged like she could see me. “A little.”
“Only a little?”
“Okay, a lot. I’m super nervous. This will be the first time I’m in the same room with Steven and Andrew since Steven found out about the whole thing ten years ago. I can’t help but worry what it will be like when we’re all together again.”
“Not going to lie to you, little sister. It’s probably going to be super weird,” Melissa said.
“I know.” I pouted as I unlocked the door to reveal the blue dress.
Melissa put her finger against her chin and feigned thoughtfulness as she inspected me in the dress. “This one is better,” she said. “Turn around.”
I turned, modeling the dress for her. She nodded a couple of times, then shook her head, then nodded again. Eventually, she slapped her hands on her thighs and shook her head decisively. “Nope. You can do better. Try again.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” I asked.
“Satin. Not cute.”
“Why didn’t you just say that right away?” I scowled.
“It’s more fun this way.” She grinned.
The third dress was a tight little black number with long sleeves. It had a plunging neckline, and the sleeves sat just off the shoulders. The hem ended above my knees and had small lace detailing along it. I opened the door and put both hands on my waist. “Okay, this one?”
Melissa cocked her head to the side. “I can get on board with that one. Throw on a cute pair of black pumps, and you’re good to go.”
The black pumps were easy to find. I went for a pair with an ankle strap for extra support, and by the time I was done, it was nearly four. Now feeling pressed for time, I hurried home and started getting ready.
At seven o’clock, my buzzer rang. I was putting my earrings on as I hurried to the keypad. “Hello?” I called.
“Miss Wright, your ride is here,” an unfamiliar male voice said.
“I’ll be right down,” I said, frowning in confusion.
After putting on my other earring, I peeled the price stickers off the bottoms of my shoes, stepped into them, and situated the ankle straps. I put on my red pea coat and snatched up my clutch from the kitchen counter. Then I rushed out the door, hurried down the steps, and made my way out to the street.
There was a black limo parked at the curb. A man was standing at the back door. He dipped his head to me and opened the door, then gestured for me to get in.
I got in, too surprised to ask any questions.
The limo was lit with a strip of blue light on the ceiling. Steven was sitting at the opposite end. His arms were outstretched on either side of him, draped across the back of the bench seat. One leg was crossed over the other. His hair was slicked back, as per his new style, and he had sharpened the lines of his beard. A silver watch glistened on his wrist in contrast to his black on black suit. He looked like a man straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster.
“Wow,” I said, unable to find the right words to express how impressed I was by the whole thing. “This is amazing. You look incredible.”
“Thank you,” he said with a small smile. He leaned forward and plucked a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket. I hadn’t even noticed the limo had a bar. The cork had already been popped. Steven poured me a glass and handed it to me. “To a great evening,” he said, sipping from the glass he poured for himself.
“A great evening,” I said, my stomach curling in on itself. I sure hoped it would be a good evening. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Who else would I invite?” he asked as the limo pulled out on to the street.
Someone who hasn’t fucked your brother, I thought shamefully to myself. “I don’t know,” I giggled.
The limo was warm. I unbuttoned my coat and laid it on the seat beside me.
“You look so fucking hot in that dress.” Steven licked his lips, his eyes raking over me like I was a zebra and he was a lion.
“Thank you. I had you in mind when I bought it.”
“Damn,” he said, resting his champagne glass back in its holder. “I would love to fuck you right here. Would you like that? On your knees on the leather?”
I licked my lips. “Yes,” I said. “Come here. Come do it.”
Steven unbuttoned his suit jacket. My panties grew immediately wet. I grabbed the hem of my dress and started pulling it up.
Then his phone rang. He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket. “Shit, I have to get this,” he said. “Work.”
“That’s fine,” I said, still working my dress up over my hips. Steven watched me as he answered the call. I spread my legs, showing him my lacy black panties, and pulled them to the side.
He watched, transfixed, as he spoke huskily into his phone.
I sat like that for ten minutes before I closed my legs and pulled my dress back down. Steven mouthed that he was sorry several times. I understood. Work had to come first—especially with where things were for him business wise. He had bigger priorities than fucking me in the back seat of a limo.
Which was unfortunate, because I was horny as hell and now had to endure the cocktail party with a soaking wet pussy.
Steven hung up the phone when we were around the corner from his parents’ house. “I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s always the drive home. It gives us something to look forward to.”
I smiled as the limo parked. “Definitely.”
The party was as I remembered it being. The house was an old Victorian style home with three living rooms and a massive dining room. The hall was set up to cater to the night's event, decorated with candelabras filled with burning white pillar candles and set with silver platters of appetizers and desserts. Steven’s mother had hired caterers who spent their time wandering among the guests with trays of wine, champagne, and the cocktail of the evening, which was a pink bubbly concoction.
Steven’s mother pulled me in for a hug when she saw me. I squeezed her back, and we pulled apart smiling at each other.
“It’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Marx,” I said. “I’m so happy I could come tonight.”
“Oh, likewise sweetheart. You look stunning, as always. And Steven,” she said, looking her son up and down, “handsome as ever.” They hugged, and she patted his cheek the same way she used to when he was seventeen.
Steven gave me a crooked look, and I laughed. Then he offered me his arm, and the two of us began making our rounds throughout the party.
When we arrived in the dining room, my stomach leaped into my throat. Andrew was there, in the corner, chatting with a tall, slender blonde woman with red lips. He spotted us and waved, then excused himself from his conversation. My heart fluttered in my chest at his approach.
When he was in front of us, he slapped Steven on the shoulder. “I’m happy to see you,” he said. “And even happier to see the company you’ve brought with you. I’m glad you are both on speaking terms again.”
Steven shrugged and glanced at me. “Three months was a long time not to talk to my best friend.”
I smiled and tightened my grip on his forearm. “It was the worst. How are you, Andrew? It’s been a while.”
“Indeed, it has,” he said with a nod. His hair was lighter than Steven’s and much unrulier. Tonight, he had tamed it with a lot of product. It stood tall on his head, making him appear to be the taller brother—which I knew he was not. Steven had always been taller. Andrew was dressed in a black suit with a gray shirt underneath. His tie was thin and ironed. He looked good, as usual, but he paled in comparison to his younger brother.
A server went by us and Andrew plucked a glass of red wine from the tray. “Things have been good. Keeping busy with work, and what not. What about the two of you? How are things going with the app production, Steven?”
I listened tentatively while the Marx brothers caught up. I wondered how long it had been since they had spoken. Maybe Steven had kept his word and shunned Andrew for as long as he had avoided me. This made me feel guilty. I felt like I had driven a wedge between them.
Nothing seemed to be bothering either of them, though. Steven chatted happily about his work, and Andrew asked him dozens of questions. They laughed and joked like they always used to, and even made plans to go out for drinks the following week to catch up without the constant interruption of people milling around the party hoping to get a word in with the Marx brothers.
Andrew and I were the same as we always had been. Conversation was easy. There was no flirting. There was no tension. I hoped Steven was able to see how normal things were between us. There had never been anything there in the first place.
By chatting with Andrew tonight, I hoped I was able to prove to Steven that he was the one I cared about. He had always been the one.