The Degradation of Shelby Ann by Emma Cole
Chapter Two
Shelby
Icame out with the dress floating around me—the underthings caressing my skin in such a perfect fit that I had to wonder how he’d gotten my sizes—to find Dirk looking as splendid as I felt with his hair gelled back into a rakish wave. His casual shirt and pants had been traded out for a fitted black suit, complete with a vest, tie, and shiny cufflinks that peeked out from the jacket sleeves. For a moment, we both stared, taking the other in, until our eyes met, then my awkward giggle echoed his appraising smile.
"You look lovely, darling. Shall we head down now? Or would you like a drink first?" He gestured toward the cabinet where an empty glass sat with a few amber drops left in the bottom. I supposed it was technically a snifter and that the cupboard was a discreetly hidden bar. My stomach was too empty for hard alcohol, not that I was a big drinker, and I had a feeling that asking for a beer or wine cooler wouldn’t be up to his tastes, so I shook my head.
“I’m fine, thank you. Ready when you are.” The approving light that lit up his gaze had that voice whispering again.
Was that another test like the dress? Or are you crazy like Mama, seeing ulterior motives everywhere?
My smile went from slightly uncomfortable to strained, but if he noticed, he didn’t let on. I didn’t understand why I was feeling so off-kilter, but I needed to get a grip before the man I was fairly certain I was three-quarters in love with decided to dump my bumpkin ass.
“Give me just a moment then. I’ll be right back.” Dirk’s retreating form headed for his bedroom while I stood there in the surprisingly comfortable high heels that matched the dress. They definitely weren’t my usual BOGO find from one of the outlet stores. His reappearance diverted my attention from my footwear. “I meant to give these to you earlier, but they were late in being brought up from the boutique.” Laying a lacy length of fabric across the back of the sofa, Dirk held out a velvet-covered case that had my heart beating double-time. “If you don’t like them, I can take you down to pick something else out, but I thought they seemed like you when I saw them at the jewelry counter after I purchased the dress.”
My eyes widened and my lips parted when he lifted the lid to reveal an elegant set of what I thought was a brown topaz teardrop necklace and earring set. “Dirk, they’re beautiful!” Excitement coursed through me at the gesture. I wasn’t big on jewelry, but I did like to wear it when the occasion warranted. Besides, if he was buying costume jewelry and fancy outfits just for dinner, then I was probably being a ninny to think that he might be playing fast and loose with me. Shut up, Shelby, and say thank you! He’s a decade, and then some, older than you, and rich as Midas. Of course he’s going to have some expectations. Getting ahold of myself, I shyly glanced up at Dirk as I tentatively reached out to trace a finger over the polished stones. No one had ever given me jewelry before—unless the friendship bracelets me and Maggie from third grade had made counted. “Thank you, I love them.”
Dirk’s smile lit up his face until it was wide enough to have faint lines creasing the corners of his eyes. “I hoped you would. They’re almost a perfect match to your eyes. Why don’t you turn around so I can fasten the necklace? I’ll let you handle the earrings.” It was more a demand than a question, but I didn’t mind, not when he was looking at me in that doting way that always made the butterflies swarm in my belly.
As soon as the pendant hung low on my chest from its delicate chain, I swapped out my small hoops in exchange for the matching earrings. When they were securely fastened, Dirk set the velvet box aside and gestured with a finger. With a laugh at his antics, I twirled in place until I faced him again, the tendrils from my updo and dress settling from the spin as I basked under his approving stare. “Do I pass muster?” I asked anyway, wanting to hear the confirmation that I was his equal, for tonight at least.
“Always, darling,” he replied, flashing his perfect smile at me again. “Sometimes we can all use a bit of polish, an armor if you will, against the upper echelons.” His cryptic remark doused the light his acceptance of me had lit in my being, but I almost thought he was talking more about himself in this instance. He seemed to become lost for a split second before he set into motion, lifting the lacy length of fabric from the sofa to drape it around my shoulders and over the crooks of my arms. The delicate wrap wouldn’t do much for practical purposes, but it was the finishing touch to the elegant picture I presented.
“Shall we?” Dirk held out an arm for me to loop mine around before leading me to the door.
* * *
Ididn't quite stick my foot in it immediately, but it was a close thing. Being seated wasn't something I had experience with, and I barely avoided rapping my knees against the table while also trying not to faceplant on it in front of the hostess and other diners. When the chair seemed to magically meet my ass, I had to refrain from pumping my fist in the air in victory. Instead, I thanked Dirk and watched while he got to scoot himself in. Well, there wasn't any scooting, more an effortless glide, but it was still preferable in my book.
The first snafu came when the waiter came to take our order, or so I thought. When Dirk ordered wine, I worried the man would ask me for ID and headed him off.
“Could I get a glass of water instead, please?” I knew something was wrong when the man peered down his beak of a nose at me like I’d asked for piss instead of something that was usually put out first at any other restaurant.
Dirk’s surprise was blatant when I chanced a glance, but before he could say anything, the waiter sneered at me. “Would you prefer that to be out of the tap or a bottle?”
Confused and embarrassed, I started to respond that either was fine over ice, but Dirk snapped at the man. “Two glasses of Evian, now!” Then lower, but somehow more threatening with the banked fury in his glacial glare, he added, “If you address my date without your utmost respect again, you’ll be in the unemployment line tomorrow.”
The waiter buttoned up with a nod and disappeared on the turn of a heel. My face flamed at the interaction then went molten at the tittering from the table behind Dirk where two shellacked blondes sat. One carelessly cradled a wineglass with the stem resting between loose fingers while the other held a fabric napkin over her mouth to stifle her hilarity. Helplessly, I watched as Dirk’s back stiffened, but he didn’t turn around. Instead, he reached out a hand, laying it upturned on the tablecloth that had a higher thread count than the sheets on my double bed back at home.
With quite a bit of reluctance, I unclenched my hands and met him halfway. At his reassuring caress of a thumb over my wrist, I marginally relaxed, until he explained, quietly enough that I could barely hear him, “That wasn’t our server. He was the sommelier.” My confusion didn’t clear, and it must have been apparent because he continued on. “His job is to serve wine, other spirits, and tobacco, if this were a smoking establishment. Some do mineral water as well, but this is an old and elite restaurant. I’m sorry; I didn’t think to warn you. I assumed you’d let me order since it’s out of your wheelhouse.”
My flinch was immediate, prompting Dirk to tighten his hold on my hand.
See, girly? He knows he’s slumming it. Cut your losses before you get burned. Go back to Mama and apologize while you can.
I almost did. I almost ran right out of that snooty-ass place, but Dirk forestalled my flight with an apology.
“I didn’t mean that, Shelby.” I tried to discreetly tug my hand loose without causing more of a scene than I already had, but to no avail. “Please, darling, I only meant because you haven’t been here and I have, many times. Peter, the sommelier, gets his prick in a knot any time he’s asked something he feels is beneath him. Just ignore him.” At my pointed glance over his shoulder, he sighed. “Them too, they’re just jealous. Stacy…”
He shook his head, frustration written plainly on his aristocratic features. My heart sank that he didn’t even have to turn around to know who they were.
Of course he knows them. One of the most eligible bachelors in Savannah, remember, dumbass?
That time, my flinch was at myself, not Dirk, but he didn’t know that, and I certainly had no intention of ever telling him I had a voice that talked shit in my head all the time.
“I told you it might be uncomfortable when we made our relationship public. It’ll get better, I promise.”
I couldn’t very well take off like a whipped bitch when he was being supportive and giving me a look that was the equivalent to wearing a squishy heart on his sleeve. But I did need a minute to catch my breath and my composure, so I quickly explained in a whisper. "I was worried that it would be a problem since I'm not twenty-one. When he talked about what would pair with their specials…" My shrug said the rest. I was out of my wheelhouse, glaringly so. Dirk’s gaze softened further, but there wasn’t the pity that I’d have thought to find. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to use the ladies room.” I was sure he knew I didn’t need the facilities, but he only gave an encouraging squeeze before releasing my hand and standing up to come around and assist me.
Didn’t think that one through, did ya?
No, I hadn’t. I was not looking forward to trying my luck at the whole seating thing again, but I needed to get away from the dining room where it felt like I was being scrutinized to death.
“I’ll order while you’re gone if that’s fine with you, darling?” Dirk’s breath caressed my ear from behind, eliciting a shiver I ignored as I nodded, grateful to have the whole thing handled without my presence. “Hurry back, then. I’ll be waiting.”
My steps weren’t hurried, but I didn’t tarry once he pointed me to the alcove with the restrooms. On top of the anxiety from my faux pas, the man had me flustered. Who knew what I’d end up doing if I didn’t get a minute alone. Likely embarrass myself, or God forbid, Dirk. Again.