I’ve saved them. I’ve waited so long for a woman who could measure up to my mother. Someone who’s kind and loving. Someone who is as sweet as they are smart. And I think I’ve found her. It’s you.”
“Oh, Owen!” Olive’s lips trembled. “Are you sure?”
“I’m more than sure. Maybe you’d like to wear the donut dress. I think it would look stunning on you.”
Quietly smiling, Olive bent down to pick up the roses scattered around her. She gathered them into a bouquet and handed them to me.
“And these are for you. I thought you might like to take them to your office.”
I put them to my nose and inhaled them. Their intoxicating scent made me dizzy. As long as I’d lived in this big house, I’d never stopped to smell the roses.
They gave new meaning to my life.
And my beautiful Olive gave it the most meaning of all.
She’d soon be wearing more than my mother’s dress. I couldn’t wait to slip it on her ring finger.
B y seven thirty, we were in Owen’s car en route to his corporate headquarters. I was dressed in his mother’s vintage dress along with a pair of her platform pumps. Both fit me perfectly, and I must say the beautiful full-skirted pink dress with its whimsical chocolate-colored donuts and halter neckline complemented both my coloring and curves. Beneath the dress I was wearing a beautiful silk corselet, something else I’d found in her closet. Though the delicate Made in France item must have dated to the fifties, it was brand new as the tags had never been taken off. My brows lifted to my forehead when I saw the price—$12.99 and it was from Saks! Oh my goodness! I bet today such a luxurious undergarment would cost hundreds of dollars.
I was in awe of Owen’s mother, and he was in awe of me. Several times he took his eyes off the road to tell me how beautiful I looked. I felt myself flush with love each time he did.
Given his wealth, I was surprised Owen didn’t have a driver. When I asked, he told me he enjoyed driving himself to and from work. He liked being in control. And being behind the wheel also stimulated his mind. Some of his best ideas came to him when he drove.
The car—or should I say, monster—suited Owen perfectly. It wasn’t a convertible sports car or something fancy like a Rolls Royce. Rather, it was a jet black Hummer. If you asked me, it was the perfect car for the Donut King. An urban assault vehicle. Big… powerful…intimidating. Yet just like my beautiful companion, a man of substance and contradictions, there was a comforting gentleness to it as it hummed along the 101 Freeway. The scent of the soft leather and the bouquet of roses by my feet made a heady combination.
The Big Band music that his mother and father used to dance to was piping through the stereo system. I sat back in my comfy seat and let myself be transported to another time as I listened contently. Frank Sinatra began to play. He was singing “Someone to Watch Over Me.” As his smooth as velvet voice filled my ears, the words of the song struck a deep chord in my heart. I just couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday at this time, I was an unemployed trainwreck about to lose her apartment. An orphan, lost in the woods, who had no one to watch over me. Today, I was a big beautiful woman with a promising job and best of all, the man I’d loved forever to protect and cherish me. Tears clustered in the back of my eyes. I’d never been so happy.
Halfway through the song, Owen began to sing along. My heart melted. He had the most beautiful voice I ever heard. A deep rich baritone, and I could feel his heart in every word. Harmonizing with the title words, he turned his head and glanced at me. His sapphire eyes burnt a hole right through me. It was if he was singing the song to me. A few tears escaped my eyes.
“Princess, why are you crying again?” he asked when the song ended, lowering the volume of the radio.
“I-I don’t
“Oh, Owen!” Olive’s lips trembled. “Are you sure?”
“I’m more than sure. Maybe you’d like to wear the donut dress. I think it would look stunning on you.”
Quietly smiling, Olive bent down to pick up the roses scattered around her. She gathered them into a bouquet and handed them to me.
“And these are for you. I thought you might like to take them to your office.”
I put them to my nose and inhaled them. Their intoxicating scent made me dizzy. As long as I’d lived in this big house, I’d never stopped to smell the roses.
They gave new meaning to my life.
And my beautiful Olive gave it the most meaning of all.
She’d soon be wearing more than my mother’s dress. I couldn’t wait to slip it on her ring finger.
B y seven thirty, we were in Owen’s car en route to his corporate headquarters. I was dressed in his mother’s vintage dress along with a pair of her platform pumps. Both fit me perfectly, and I must say the beautiful full-skirted pink dress with its whimsical chocolate-colored donuts and halter neckline complemented both my coloring and curves. Beneath the dress I was wearing a beautiful silk corselet, something else I’d found in her closet. Though the delicate Made in France item must have dated to the fifties, it was brand new as the tags had never been taken off. My brows lifted to my forehead when I saw the price—$12.99 and it was from Saks! Oh my goodness! I bet today such a luxurious undergarment would cost hundreds of dollars.
I was in awe of Owen’s mother, and he was in awe of me. Several times he took his eyes off the road to tell me how beautiful I looked. I felt myself flush with love each time he did.
Given his wealth, I was surprised Owen didn’t have a driver. When I asked, he told me he enjoyed driving himself to and from work. He liked being in control. And being behind the wheel also stimulated his mind. Some of his best ideas came to him when he drove.
The car—or should I say, monster—suited Owen perfectly. It wasn’t a convertible sports car or something fancy like a Rolls Royce. Rather, it was a jet black Hummer. If you asked me, it was the perfect car for the Donut King. An urban assault vehicle. Big… powerful…intimidating. Yet just like my beautiful companion, a man of substance and contradictions, there was a comforting gentleness to it as it hummed along the 101 Freeway. The scent of the soft leather and the bouquet of roses by my feet made a heady combination.
The Big Band music that his mother and father used to dance to was piping through the stereo system. I sat back in my comfy seat and let myself be transported to another time as I listened contently. Frank Sinatra began to play. He was singing “Someone to Watch Over Me.” As his smooth as velvet voice filled my ears, the words of the song struck a deep chord in my heart. I just couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday at this time, I was an unemployed trainwreck about to lose her apartment. An orphan, lost in the woods, who had no one to watch over me. Today, I was a big beautiful woman with a promising job and best of all, the man I’d loved forever to protect and cherish me. Tears clustered in the back of my eyes. I’d never been so happy.
Halfway through the song, Owen began to sing along. My heart melted. He had the most beautiful voice I ever heard. A deep rich baritone, and I could feel his heart in every word. Harmonizing with the title words, he turned his head and glanced at me. His sapphire eyes burnt a hole right through me. It was if he was singing the song to me. A few tears escaped my eyes.
“Princess, why are you crying again?” he asked when the song ended, lowering the volume of the radio.
“I-I don’t
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