Chapter 46 A New Girl
~Hermes~
"Ugh, so many poor people here," Jake groans, adjusting his dark shades.
"Shut up," Ted hisses, nudging him. "You’re embarrassing yourself."
Gavin doesn’t look up from his phone. "Char says she’ll be here in a minute. This won’t take long."
I ignore them, pretending to study the suits on the mannequins. Plastic men in fake skin. That’s about how I feel about myself right now.
"You’re late," Charlotte’s voice cuts through the little crowd behind us.
We all turn, and see she’s here—with someone.
On a normal day, with the way the girl’s barely dressed, I’d already be planning where to take her. A bathroom, or a back room. Anywhere, but nothing stirs, not even a flicker.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, dropping my gaze. What the hell is wrong with you, Hermes?
"This is Natasha, a work friend of mine," Charlotte says, eyes landing squarely on me.
Jake steps forward, hand out, already turning on his smirk. "Nice to meet you, Natasha."
Charlotte shoots him a look sharp enough to gut a man. He drops his hand, retreating.
I scoff under my breath, tongue pressing to my teeth. I can't believe I was distracted by distractions, and fell into a trap. I should’ve known Charlotte had a plan. Natasha’s not just a work friend. She’s my assigned plus one.
I remove my shades, flicking a brow at Charlotte, but she only shrugs with a smirk.
"I'm Natasha. Charlotte told me a lot about you," she blurts, her hand already in mine.
I nearly scoff, but rein it in. She's too easy, and eager.
"Hermes," I answer with a light smile. I somehow feel in control again.
She doesn’t let go of my hand, her wide eyes fixed on me as if I were carved for worship.
"Uhm—" Charlotte clears her throat softly, tugging Natasha to her side. "This is Gavin, Teddy, and Jake," she says, gesturing toward them.
"Can I speak to you for a minute?" I cut in, already pulling her aside.
"What?" Charlotte asks, arms folding across her chest.
I flick a glance at the girl, then turn sharply back to Charlotte. "You didn’t have to bring the boys too," I whisper.
She laughs under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Then you wouldn’t have come," she teases, and slips right back to them before I can say more.
"Okay boys, we’re heading to the women’s section to pick out a dress for the gala. When we’re done, I’ll call you," she continues, her gaze lingering on me as if she’s speaking to me alone.
She signals to an attendant. "Meanwhile, Gray here will show you the outfits I picked for you all."
"We already have outfits for the gala, Char," Gavin groans, dragging a hand over his face.
Ted is already chatting with the attendant, while Jake’s attention has drifted to my supposed plus one.
Charlotte sighs, one hand on her hip. "Fine. Then pick something you might at least wear to one of your weddings. If that ever happens."
With that, she turns, taking Natasha along. "Come on, Tasha."
I watch them step onto the escalator, rising toward the women’s section.
"If you don’t want her, you can give her to me," Jake mutters at my side, his eyes glued to Natasha as well.
I whisper back, "I don't think I'm leaving this one for you, Jake."
My lips twitch and my mind's already accepting her as my distraction.
Oh– I might not feel like giving her bathroom- fuck yet, but she makes me feel in control already.
"Let's go, guys. I need a drink," Gavin cuts in, turning to the attendant. "She at least arranged that, right?"
The attendant nods quickly. "Madam Checkers said to make sure you gentlemen have the most enhanced VIP shopping experience Sin City Chic only offers and—"
"Cut the promotion," Jake interrupts. "Just get us drinks and take us to the shoe section."
"Of course, sir," the attendant stammers, hurrying toward the elevator. "Right this way."
As the others chat on, I stay quiet, deeply in my thoughts.
I’m planning how I’ll fuck Natasha.
Before the gala, during it, and after it.
~
We enter the shoe section. The attendant serves our drinks and begins his pitch about their newest arrivals.
I don’t touch mine. I don’t need it yet. The boys, though—they drink freely. Free from any fucking thought. Lucky them.
Minutes pass before my phone buzzes.
"Charlotte," I mutter, flashing the screen at Gavin.
"You should go. She’s your plus one, not ours," he says lazily, slouched deep into the comfort chair.
"I’ll go with you," Jake offers, standing—only to be shoved back down by Ted.
"Sit down, Jack. Charlotte’s friend isn’t one of your firm clerks," Ted clicks his tongue. Then to me: "Go on, Hermes. I don’t want her coming here."
I exhale softly, step outside, and answer.
"Come now. Isle 25," Charlotte orders before the line dies.
I stare at the phone, frowning. "Isle 25?"
"Do you need anything, sir?" Charlotte’s assigned attendant ask behind me.
"Where is Isle 25?"
"That’s the women’s section. I can take you there, just—"
"Just give me directions," I cut him off.
He swallows. "Take the elevator past the hat section. It leads to the fitting rooms. Each is labeled by number."
My brows knit. I drag in a slow breath. This better be worth it. If she’s putting Natasha in a dress, I’d better feel like tearing it off with my teeth.
I follow the attendant’s directions until I reach a corner where the fitting rooms split.
One room, but with two signs.
At the top: Isle 25 — an old, fading plate.
Below it: Isle 15 — a newer, shinier, and looks clearly just installed.
I frown, tilting my head. Which the fuck is it supposed to be?
I pull out my phone to call Charlotte, but the screen flickers black. The battery's dead.
"Perfect," I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair.
Well… here goes nothing.
I push the door open. It's surprisingly empty. No Charlotte, or Natasha, not even an attendant lurking around.
At least I won’t have to apologize for barging in on some half-naked stranger.
Just as I’m about to step back out, the inner curtain stirs.
"I need help with the zip," a thin voice floats out.
I freeze. Someone is fucking in here.
"I’m sorry," I say quickly, back turned, palms raised like surrender. "I mistook the room for my—"
"Mr. Grande?"
My chest tightens. No. No, no, no. It can’t be.
That voice—I know it. I turn, and the denial I just whispered in my head turns solid, standing inches from me.
June.