Chapter 8
Twenty Two years ago
Ajali fussed with the zipper of her dress as she stood before the bathroom mirror with her hair over her shoulder and arms reaching back. Her fingers searched in vain but they could not find the small handle of the zipper. Her arms ached and she was beginning to sweat. When she heard the loud knock on her door, Anjali clicked her tongue in irritation and groaned.
"Serena, I told you I was on my way," Anjali said, walking over to the door. "I just need to get this zipper u-"
As Anjali yanked the door open, Giovanni looked up.
Time stood still.
All the sounds of the world disappeared.
The only thing Giovanni could hear was the small gasp that left Anjali's lips as she laid her eyes upon him. The straps of her red dress fell off her shoulder as she stood with her eyes wide open and hand gripping the door. Giovanni wanted to slide the material back up on her shoulder. He could almost imagine how soft her skin would feel.
As if sensing his thoughts, Anjali quickly adjusted the strap of her dress and cleared her throat.
"Hi," she said.
"Hello, Anjali," the corner of Giovanni's mouth curved up. "Serena sent me to escort you to dinner."
"I'm not ready yet."
"I can wait."
Anjali bit down on her bottom lip, "Okay....Would you like to come in?"
"Would that be alright with you?"
"Yes," Anjali nodded, stepping aside.
Making sure to keep her back against the wall, Anjali made way for Giovanni to walk through the door. She slowly closed it behind him and fiddled with her hand, waiting for him to have a seat so she could make a run for the bathroom. But when Giovanni planted his feet and stood in the foyer, Anjali's heart began to stumble.
"What's wrong?" Giovanni asked, noticing the discomfort in Anjali's eyes.
"Nothing," Anjali shook her head.
"Are you almost ready?"
"Almost," Anjali rolled her eyes.
Giovanni waited for her to move but she did not. When he arched his brow, she rolled her eyes again and clicked her tongue.
"What is it?" Giovanni chuckled.
"It's my dress," Anjali's nose scrunched up. "I can't reach the zipper."
"Would you like some help?" Giovanni asked.
"Could you?" Anjali asked. "I don't want to bot-"
"Turn around," Giovanni stepped forward.
"Thank you," Anjali sighed and turned. "The handle is so small I can't even feel i-"
With the lightest touch, Giovanni's fingers gathered Anjali's long locks and pushed them aside. The dark strands felt like silk in his hands as he draped it over her shoulder and then gently took hold of the two halves of her dress.
Giovanni's heart hammered inside his chest as Anjali's breathing changed. He caught her reflection on the photo frame and lost his breath at how she stood with her eyes shut and hands clutched to her chest. Giovanni's hand shook as the small zipper dropped from his hands a few times and he struggled to get a hold of it.
"It's tricky," he said, finally grabbing it.
"It is," Anjali laughed.
Giovanni's palms were sweaty and clammy. He felt like a teenager as he slowly moved the zipper up and felt the back of his hand glide over Anjali's back. She was warm and smooth, like butter. He wanted to explore her softness. His hands suddenly itched to feel more. The maddening scent of her perfume was spellbinding.
