Chapter 45

Christian is gone…for days.

By the end of the third, I can tell that Frankie is miserable and worried too, even if he is in touch with Christian all the time via phone.

“Will you please let me read the text messages?!” I beg, lurching for the phone as we stand together in the kitchen.

Frankie quickly lifts it out of my grasp. “Absolutely not! Beyond it being above your pay grade, Iris, these texts are the only secret that I have in the world from you anymore, and I need a little bit of mystery –“

We bicker then, for about half a minute, as I jump in the air trying to grab the phone that he holds high above his head. But we end up laughing, as we always do.

“Frank,” I sigh, looping my arms around my waist and resting my head on his chest, looking up into his face. “I’m so bored. What are we going to do?”

“Come on, Iris,” he sighs, dropping his arm and patting me on the back. “We’re modestly clever people. We can think of something.”

But honestly, the two of us are running into something of a dead-end with activities here. The house is spotless, and we’ve both eaten so much that I’m not sure we’ll ever be hungry again, and the freezer is absolutely stacked with frozen meals for a “rainy day.”

We’ve played the video game until we’re both sick of it and can’t even think of another one, and television –

Well, we’ve also watched so much of that that putting on another show makes me want to rip my hair out.

“Takeout?” he sighs, looking towards the drawer where we keep the menus. “We can really give Christian’s credit card a workout – order Indian and Mexican at the same time, see if we can’t craft some Masala Tacos…”

“No,” I groan, tilting my head back, which just makes Frankie smile at me as he tightens his arm around my back so I don’t fall over. “I don’t want to eat anymore. We’re going to get fat.”

“Well, why don’t you do a workout, keep in stripper shape?”

“What?” I ask, a little shocked, as I stare up at him.

“Come on, I’ll get out the monopoly money, really make it rain for you, Bambi –“

“Frankie!” I laugh, smacking him on the chest as he smiles down at me. “I am not stripping for you –“

“I thought you were bored!”

“I’m not that bored,” I reply, dry and stepping away from him. Because even if he’s kidding, he’s pushing it a bit far. Though – I guess that’s Frankie, isn’t it? His sense of humor – he delights in pushing things just a little too far.

“Okay,” he says, shrugging and slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Than what shall we do?”

“Well,” I say, cocking my head at him, seeing if I can push him this time. “Why don’t you strip for me?”

“Iris!” he says, scandalized and delighted. “I like this new bored you! Who knew it only took three days locked away in a penthouse with the man of your dreams for you to finally ask for the thing that you really want: for me to take my clothes off.”

I burst out laughing and grab his hand. “No, come on – I’ll turn you into a stripper,” I say, grinning and starting to enjoy myself. Frankie – he really is fun, isn’t he?

“What!?”

“You’re going to make so much money!” I shout, feeling a little wild in my stir-crazy desperation. “Wait till you see!”

Forty minutes later, Frankie and I are knee-to-knee on the couch, and I’m leaning closer to his face, putting the finishing touches on his contour.

“So,” he says quietly, doing his best not to move his mouth so that I don’t mess up, “this is mascara,” he says, holding up a cosmetic tube. “And you put it…on your eyes?”

“On your eyelashes,” I murmur, concentrating. “It’s very delicate – don’t mess with it, you’ll get it everywhere.”

“How do you girls know all this stuff,” he murmurs, fascinated. “Mascara, eye liner, bronzer, foundation, blush, highlighter…” he shakes his head, baffled.

“Frank!” I laugh, grabbing him by the chin. “Don’t move!”

“Don’t grab me, you’ll smudge it,” he murmurs, knocking my hand away, and I grin at him, loving that he’s letting me do this and is taking it quite seriously.

“Okay,” I say, putting the makeup sponge down and leaning closer. “Last step is liner and lashes, and then you’ll be complete!”

“Wow,” he says, sarcastic. “Only took forever.”

“Takes a lot of work to be this pretty,” I say smugly, brushing my hair back over my shoulders.

Frankie just rolls his eyes at me. “Iris, you wake up that pretty.”

I just laugh at him. “Well, then you should see me when I put the effort in.”

He murmurs something sweet about looking forward to seeing that some day as I move closer, straddling his lap and taking his chin in my hand, tilting it up towards me. “Now, close your eyes,” I say softly. He obeys. “And stay…very still.”

I smile at Frankie as he does as he’s told and I open my liquid mascara, very carefully drawing a long line of it down by the edge of his lashes. As I do, I consider again how good looking he is. His face, in the end, doesn’t really lend itself to the kind of feminine lines I’ve painted on him with my makeup kit. But with that strong jaw, and his full lips, and the unfair length of his eyelashes?

Damn, but Frankie really is pretty. Boy pretty.

Softly, I lean forward and blow on the wet lines of makeup on his eyelid, which makes him smile. He reaches behind me and puts a steadying hand on my back, helping me keep my balance.

Or, at least I think he’s helping me keep my balance.

“Keep your eyes shut for a moment,” I murmur. “Let the eyeliner dry.”

He hums his assent and we sit quietly for a moment. “So,” he whispers, and my eyes move to his mouth. “Am I pretty?”

“You’re gorgeous,” I murmur as I cap the eyeliner. Even though I don’t tell him to do it yet, Frankie opens his eyes and grins up at me.

“Just a little mascara,” I say, laughing down at him. “And then maybe some gems, here at the corner of your eyes?” I tap him there, right where his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

“Gems?!” he gaps, a little appalled. “Iris, this may be where I draw the line –“

“Come on, Frankie!” I say, laughing and leaning back into his hand, delighted. “I thought you wanted to make money – the men like a girl with a little shine to her! They –“

But I don’t finish, both of us going stock still when we hear the door creak open.

Both of our heads turn in a flash, right towards the door.

Right to where Nico and Christian stand, looking directly at us.

At me, straddling Frankie’s lap, though perhaps they can’t see that detail with the back of the couch between us.

And Frankie, his face covered in my makeup –

My eyes go wide as Nico’s jaw drops and Christian smirks –

But I feel myself go absolutely rigid when I hear a third voice. A woman’s voice.

“What, what is it?” she says, her voice light and clear as a bell. “Let me see!”

To my shock, Christian steps aside and an absolutely gorgeous woman steps forward into the room, a happy smile already on her face as her eyes move immediately to me.