Everything

VII

Risky.

It was unbelievably risky.

When I had purchased the dress a week ago in preparation for the ball, I knew it would be a standout, couture piece. But what I hadn't expected was this.

The ball was a formal occasion, granted, and I was used to stuff of the sort, in fact I had attended this very ball for four years running, but never in my wildest imagination would I have ever considered myself looking like this.

I was one to play it safe. A simple cocktail style dress in a neutral colour would always do me nicely, or a suit, I liked suits, they didn't draw any kind of attention. But I couldn't go for fading into the background this time. I had to make sure I was remembered, or else, but for all the right reasons.

This is why I said this dress was risky. It was classy, sophisticated, understated, yet bordering on sexy, and I wasn't entirely sure how a room packed to the rafters with lawyers, most of whom were stuffy, middle-aged men would take to a woman in her twenties in this dress who wasn't just the arm candy of one of their associates but a potential partner of one of the biggest firms in New York.

This time, I wasn't playing it safe and I didn't know how it would all go down.

I met my determined, steely gaze in the mirror, brown eyes filled with the fire that I had inherited from my mother. Over the last few weeks I had been more resolved than ever to put the past behind me and stop being the shy, sweet girl that Mark had managed to exploit over the last year. This, therefore, seemed to be my metamorphosis, the cataclysm and boy oh boy would I enjoy every second.

From my hair, pinned up in a loose chignon, waves hanging around my face, to the bold red lip that complemented my look, my eyes slowly dragged down over the dress I had selected, fully assessing the situation before me and trying to convince myself to keep the piece on and not rip it over my head and stick on something more traditional.

The neckline plunged low, way lower than I would have usually preferred, and the top hugged my bust to bursting. The fabric then went on to caress my waist, pulling it in to create the perfect hourglass. Skimming my hips, the material went tight, clinging to every curve before exploding below my hips to create a trumpet outline. Midnight black.

I turned in the mirror and looked at my bare back where the dress cut low. I swallowed. Could I seriously go out looking like this? I mean, I looked fine... in fact I looked good, but I'd never done something like this before.

As much as I didn't want to rely on a man's opinion, especially after a year of the ever-disapproving Mark, I knew I had to search out Spencer.

He had returned from work about an hour ago, however, in that time we hadn't really spoken a word to each other, not after the events of lunchtime. I didn't have to concentrate hard to still feel the phantom of Spencer's body over mine, his soft and supple lips capturing my pliant mouth in that tender kiss.

I pressed my fingers to my lips before shaking my head.

Momentary lapse of judgement, that's all.

Grabbing my purse, I made a beeline for the door, gently opening it before stepping out into the living space. These heels were unfeasibly high; the Louboutins I had been wearing the night that Mark called it quits, as they were the only formal shoes I had that weren't in Mark's apartment. Thus, I carefully manoeuvred my way further into the room, following the soothing melody I could hear.

Spencer sat at his white baby grand as the sun began to lower in the New York sky behind him. It was only quarter to nine but he was already in pyjamas, topless and covered by his flannel bottoms, feet bare as they pressed at the pedal. He was entirely immersed in the melody, his fingers skimming the individual keys and his eyes closed as his lithe body moved and swayed to the rhythm his fingers created. It was truly a sight to behold to watch and admire his talent in this way. He always downplayed this part of his life, never one to perform in a crowd, simply using the instrument as an outlet, a form of therapy as he liked to refer to it. The piece was classical, and one of the most beautiful tunes I had ever heard, melding with the setting perfectly and creating a charged atmosphere that I took a few moments to bask in before my voice broke the air.