Slow Dancing

20 | in mod di

2 0

i n   m o d   d i

[It.] : In the style of.

It turned out that I did end up getting flowers.

It was sometime around seven on the evening of the company dinner and I was still in my bathrobe, hair brushed free from my face so that I could apply some makeup, when the doorbell to my apartment rang. For a moment, I faltered, wondering if Kaden had arrived earlier than expected. We'd pre-arranged for seven-thirty. And, in a ratty old bathrobe, I was hardly dressed to expect any company, let alone his.     

Tying the strings of my bathrobe firmly around my waist, I went to the living room and activated the intercom system for the building. "Hello?"

"Delivery for Isla Moore," came the gruff voice on the other end, interspersed by bouts of cracked static.

My eyebrows knittedtogether faintly. "I didn't order anything."

"It's from Mr Kaden Bretton."

"Oh." I tapped the blue button and fell a step back. "Come on up then."

It took several minutes before I heard a knock at the door. Opening it, I offered a polite smile when I saw a man standing outside, but my eyes widened at the sight of a bouquet of flowers in his arms. And not just any kind of flowers.

Forget-me-nots.

My breath caught in my throat for a second as I stared at it. Then I snapped to attention when the man held out a clipboard to it. Almost in a daze, I scribbled a haphazard signature on the dotted line of the paper, and bade him a good night after he'd given me the bouquet.

Shutting the door, I stared down at the flowers, inhaling deeply as I caught a whiff of their fragrance. For a moment, it felt like I had been catapulted back to the past all over again. A white card attached to the end of the bouquet caught my eye and I caught it between my fingertips, lifting it up to get a closer look at it.

This still isn't a date.

A bubble of laughter escaped my lips and I hugged the bouquet gently to my chest. Things seemed to be going back to the way they were, we seemed to be going back to the way we were and I couldn't ask for more.

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Parker's penthouse was on the twenty-third floor and the lift ride on the way down seemed to take forever. I fiddled anxiously with the thin charm bracelet on my wrist; the same one Parker had given to me on my sixteenth birthday, and took a deep breath.

Kaden had said that he'd be waiting by the limo, but I hadn't any idea how to behave in front of him. I generally considered myself a more or less confident person, but he'd always had a knack of crumbling any sort of façades I assumed. My dress for tonight was something I'd picked out specifically for this occasion –midnight-blue, column cut with an off-shoulder neckline; something which Millie had sealed with her metaphorical stamp of approval when I sent her a picture of it sometime ago.

It was one thing for her to like it.

I could only hope Kaden did too, and that I actually fitted in among all the other distinguished, well-dressed guests.