Chapter 74
Iris
I scramble to my feet, my face instantly heating beneath Arthur’s confused gaze. I quickly realize that I’m still wearing his sweater, and that I fell asleep in his closet while waiting for Selina to leave.
“I… Um…” I glance around, looking for some kind of excuse. My eyes finally fall on the pile of dresses, and I scoop them up, holding them so Arthur can see. “I needed a dress for tonight. Guess I fell asleep while I was looking for one.”
Arthur furrows his brow. “Did you not sleep last night?”
“No, I mean-”
“And you never told me why you’re wearing my sweater.” He reaches up, bracing his arm on the doorframe above his head. A look of amusement flickers across his features, and I feel my heart flutter even faster at the sight of him. Here, surrounded by his scent, wearing his sweater, and looking at his handsome form, I feel suddenly small and foolish.
“I got cold,” I manage, hating how meek my voice sounds.
Arthur stares at me for a moment, and I know he doesn’t believe a word of what I just said. But thankfully, he doesn’t press. For now, at least.
“I heard about what happened yesterday, by the way,” he says, reaching out to touch one of the dresses in my arms. His finger brushes my wrist as he does, and I suppress a shiver. “At the thrift store.”
The memory pains me more than I would like to admit, and I look away. The last thing I want is to be reminded of what those women said—about how Arthur should ‘provide for his mistresses‘.
Mistresses. Plural. Like I wasn’t once the fucking love of his life.
I finally manage, shaking my head, “It was nothing. I left before it got too out of control.”
“It wasn’t nothing,” Arthur quickly replies. “You should really consider wearing a disguise when you go out in public from now on. It’s okay here, because I’ve kept my identity hidden from the other residents of this building. But when you go out, at least consider wearing a hat and sunglasses like I do.”
I press my lips into a thin line and brush past him, having to duck beneath his propped arm to get through the closet doorway. I want to tell him that I hate the fact that we have to hide our identities, that none of this would be necessary if he had just chosen integrity over power five years ago, but I don’t. Instead, I just mutter a promise to be more careful and hurry away.
“Iris,“Arthur suddenly says, stopping me in the doorway.
“What?” I turn.
He nods toward the sweater I’m wearing, a silent question. Blushing, I quickly shrug it off and toss it to him. He catches it in one hand, and that look of amusement crosses his face again before I leave.
After that, I quickly get ready for the exhibition. The black dress fits perfectly, gently hugging the curve of my waist and hips. I pair it with some black heels and dark pantyhose, throwing on a subtle pearl necklace for good
measure.
Then, I add some shimmery gold eyeshadow to my look, dark red lipstick, and a faint blush to my cheeks. I curl my hair and pin it up into an updo, pulling down a few face framing pieces. Then, just to be safe, I put on my black glasses to complete the ‘Flora‘ disguise.
Chapter 74
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Once I’m ready, the event is starting shortly. I leave Miles with Cliff and Augustine, who promise that they’ll have lots of fun tonight. He’s not super thrilled, but I can’t exactly bring him with me, no matter how much I want to. Besides, it’s still pouring rain outside, which somewhat deters Miles from wanting to leave the building.
Within twenty minutes, Ezra is dropping me off at the gallery. Arthur isn’t coming tonight as far as I’m aware, not that I invited him or expected him to. Ezra promises to pick me up when it’s time and I hurry inside, only getting a little wet from the rain before I make it.
“Flora!” Alice calls as I enter, rushing over to me. She takes me by both hands and kisses each of my cheeks. “You look stunning. Almost as stunning as your art.”
Before I can respond, she whisks me over to the exhibition space, where my art is hanging amongst the other artists‘ work. Each piece seems to glimmer beneath the lights, or maybe that’s just an optical illusion created by the glittery flutes of champagne the well–dressed guests are holding as they mill about.
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