Ella
It’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a date.
I’ve been repeating the same thought over and over again. I know Sinclair is only taking me out tonight because I fell to complete pieces this afternoon. I’m still kicking myself, totally ashamed of my weakness and determined to prove myself to him after all. I spent the better part of an hour picking out my dress for tonight, eventually deciding on a little black dress that shows off my figure and makes me feel strong and sexy, nothing like my usual self.
I wrap a heavy winter coat around my body after Sinclair’s makeup artists and hairdressers finish making me up, sliding on a pair of strappy stilettos and taking a few deep breaths before heading downstairs. Sinclair is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, his emerald gaz
