Page 95 of Broken Blood Ties

“Oh, please hurry up,” I mumble under my breath. It’s not that I’m eager to try on clothes for my new fake life, but more so I made a promise to myself with my second chance here in Boston. That I’d respect the time given to me by others—something I never cared about in my previous life.

Another two minutes later, and we pull up to the entrance. Sleek black glass panels line the front of the store with tinted windows that make it impossible to see inside. A polished brass plaque to the right of the building bears the nameLuxeAtelierin a chic minimalist typography, and as I step out of the car, discreet font beneath it reads,By Appointment Only.

Through the reflection in the black glass, I see the car I exited pull away, and I spin on my heels, waving my hands. Isn’t he supposed to stay to take me home? I blink as the car’s taillights disappear around a corner.

With my only option to go in, I pull on the handle and enter the store.

Holy jeez.

Dark sensual lighting is strategically placed to highlight the curated collections of designer clothing hanging on gold-accented racks. Plush sapphire-blue velvet sofas are arranged around a detailed Persian rug placed centrally over rich hardwood floors.

My eyes flutter closed as I inhale the swirling rose perfume mixed with artisanal leather from the handbags backlit in floor-to-ceiling cubbies.

“Ye’re late.”

I spin around to find Kieran sulking by the glass windows. Hands tucked into his suit, he leans against the glass, studying me. He’s all hard lines and stern expression while his black suit has not one wrinkle in it from the day. The green of his eyes pierces through the boutique’s faint lighting as he drags them down my poorly dressed body.

My jeans are riddled with lines and creases. Something my mother would never allow, especially in a place like this.

My brain tries to compute his being here. His message said nothing about him meeting me, and I’m not sure why I didn’t think he would be.

Even though surprised by his appearance, I shrug. “Yeah, well, Finn’s an old lady.”

The corner of Kieran’s mouth twitches. “Aye. I’ll let him know ye think that.”

We stare at each other, and the thumping of my heart turns into a gallop as his eyes trail down my two-day jeans. He’s probably embarrassed I look the way I do.

“I’m sorry about”—I gesture up and down—“this.”

As if realizing his perusal, he snaps his head up. “What ye wear doesn’t matter to me, Summer.”

I raise my brows. “Then why are we here?”

“Ye need clothes, do you not?”

“Well, sure. But there’s a Target ten minutes from here. That’d been fine.”

Kieran’s pupils darken. “Ye deserve more than that.”

Actually, I don’t. Pretty sure after that awful night seven years ago, I deserve nothing.

“Mr. O’Donnell. So sorry to keep you waiting. And this must be?” A tall, long-legged woman dressed in a black dress approaches us and one of her eyebrows quirks at me.

She’s beautiful. Model material. With platinum blonde hair pulled tightly into a low ponytail, her amber eyes sparkle. Aside from the freckle above her plump upper lip, her face is flawless.

“Me fiancée. She needs an entire wardrobe, Sarah. Put it all on me account,” Kieran says, pulling at his suit cuffs like they itch. He almost looks uncomfortable.

“Of course. Right this way.” She beckons me to follow, and I half expect Kieran to walk out of the store. But, instead, he follows behind me, shrugging off his suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of his white button down while sitting down on one of the plush chairs.

“I’ll pull some outfits for you,” Sarah says. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Anything to drink, Mr. O’Donnell?”

I notice she doesn’t ask me. Rolling my eyes, I fall back onto the love seat that nearly swallows me. Now I don’t want to move.

“Water for me, and whatever Summer wants.” Kieran pulls out his phone and looks at the screen as Sarah bats her eyelashes at him.

“And for you?” She turns to look at me.

“Water is fine. Thank you.”