Page 104 of Logan

I can’t accept it, though. Johnny must have spent an absolute fortune on it. It’s too much, too extravagant for a first date after a year apart.

Almost against my will, I reach out and stroke the fabric with my fingertips, marveling at the buttery softness, and the exquisite craftsmanship. It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, let alone touched. I hold it up against my body and look in the mirror.

Nothing will happen if I just try it on for a moment, just to see. It probably won’t even fit. My proportions are far from model-standard, and that will spare me the agonizing dilemma of whether to keep it.

Almost in a trance, I let my robe slip to the floor and step into the dress, the cool silk kissing my skin like a lover’s caress. I reach behind me to tug up the zipper, my breath catching as the garment molds itself to my body like it was made for me.

I stare at my reflection, hardly recognizing the woman looking back at me. The dress is stunning and transformative. It clings to every curve, emphasizing my waist, my hips, and my breasts.

It fits like a dream, even on my ample chest, the cutout revealing just enough to tantalize without spilling over into tawdry.

I turn from side to side, admiring the way the light plays over the rich fabric, the way the slit shows off my toned leg, hinting at the secrets beneath.

How did Johnny get my exact measurements? I never thought of him as one of those men who pay attention to details like that, who even notice a woman’s size, let alone buy expensive, tailored gifts. He never bought me so much as a scarf when we were together, let alone a dress fit for royalty.

Maybe he has changed. I told him I didn’t have a suitable dress for the gala, and he got me one to make sure I would feel beautiful and confident. And here I was, being hard on him for no reason, assuming the worst.

The dress is breathtaking, a work of art. I’ve never felt so glamorous, so sexy and powerful and feminine.

I glance at my dress laid out on the bed, the one I bought, suddenly plain and unremarkable in comparison. Torn, I caress the lush fabric clinging to my curves.

I need to take it off and put it back in the box. That’s the right thing to do. I can’t keep it, can’t accept such an extravagant gift, especially not from a man I’m not even sure I want to be with.

But I can’t resist twirling around once more, peeking at my reflection in the mirror, my cheeks flushed and my eyes sparkling.

What’s the harm in wearing it just for tonight? Johnny must have put a lot of thought into picking this out for me. It would be rude not to wear his gift, especially when I agreed togive him another chance. If I’m trying to rebuild our relationship, I need to show him I appreciate his efforts.

I take a deep breath, smoothing my hands over the skirt one last time.

I’ll wear it.

I have a promise to keep to myself and to Johnny. Today, I need to give him a fair chance, an honest shot to win back my trust and my heart.

Even if a part of me, a treacherous, desperate part, wishes it was another man waiting for me, another set of eyes I was hoping to dazzle tonight.

But that’s just a silly, impossible dream, and I can’t let it distract me from reality. From giving Johnny, giving us, a genuine chance.

I can do this. I will do this.

Even if it breaks my heart.

“Hey,” I say with a smile as I open the door, smoothing my hands over the skirt of the dress.

“Hey.” Johnny leans in to kiss me, but I turn my head, allowing him to only brush my cheek.

“You look amazing.” His eyes skim over me.

“Thanks.” I narrow my eyes, trying to read his expression. “So, you like the dress on me?”

“Of course. It’s beautiful. As always.” He grins, offering me his arm.

Beautiful, but not stunning? Not “I knew it would lookperfect on you” or “I’m so glad you’re wearing my gift”? I study his face, searching for any hint that he’s pleased to see me in the dress he chose. Maybe he’s just playing it cool, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

I take his hand, and we walk to his car.

We arrive at the banquet hall after a short drive, and the valet takes Johnny’s keys, but not before Johnny gives him detailed instructions on how to take care of the car.

I glance around. I don’t think the young guy will be too concerned about the sedan when a Lamborghini pulls up behind us and one of the senior managers emerges from it.