Page 71 of Ice Me Out

“Which part?” she challenged.

“The first part.”

“You’re sick. Get help,” she claimed as she smoothed down her tie. “You wrinkled my tie,” she bemoaned, staring down at the creased fabric.

Silently, I moved to the closet and found a garment bag holding one of my spare suits. I unzipped it, retrieved a black satin tie, and returned to Vera.

“Let me fix you up,” I said, loosening the tie around her neck.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, avoiding my eyes as I towered over her.

“Who taught you how to tie a tie?”

She raised a brow suspiciously.“Why? Did I not do it right?”

“Relax, Sugar. It was just a question. It was perfect, by the way.”

She relaxed a little, softening her stiff posture.

“My father taught me.”

“I’m curious why he would do that,” I said, wrapping the tie around her lifted collar.

“I don’t know how to explain it without you getting the wrong impression of him.”

“Take your time. I’ll withhold my judgment in the meantime.”

She nodded, and I slowed my movements, taking my time and appreciating the intimate moment between us.

“He wanted me to marry well.”

“Isn’t that the goal for all fathers?”

“He wanted me to marry wealthy,” she clarified.

“Ah. I see.”

Thank fuck I’m loaded.

“He taught me how to tie a tie because he said it would impress a potential suitor.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. Color me fucking impressed.”

“He also taught me how to golf because he said the best place to meet rich men was on the golf course.”

“Good news. I love to golf.”

Vera shyly smiled before breaking away to examine the tie in the mirror.

“What’s your handicap?” she inquired, trying to pivot away from my declaration.

I sighed.

“From that look on your face, I’d guess yours is better than mine. Is there anything you’re not good at?”

“Ice skating.”

“Really?” I asked, perking up at the idea that I had something on her. It wasn’t a competition between us, of course, but it was nice to know she wasn’t perfect.