Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 37

I can't help but giggle, but Eleanor's eyes snap to me. She's about to let out a dagger of a quip, but I can tell she's taken off guard by my appearance. I feel her blue eyes start to scan my body, starting at the hem of my dress and moving judgingly to the top of my head. I reluctantly put my hands down to my sides to give her the full view I know she's expecting, and suddenly, I wished I had practiced my confident stance a bit more — but it's too late to worry about how straight my shoulders are or if I'm sucking it in enough — because here I was, standing half naked, in front of my boss, in her wedding dress, on her fiancés birthday, who I happen to be madly in love with. Doesn't get more exposed than that.

After a moment, Eleanor smiles.

"Well, look at you, Olivia," she mutters primly. "It's a good thing your chest isn't any bigger, or some people might get a free show."

I feel my cheeks burn a deep crimson color, ducking my head as my arms wrap back around my body. I'm met with a warm hand on my lower back.

"Why, Eleanor...you wouldn't be jealous, would you?" Nick asks, his hand smoothing up and down my back soothingly.

Eleanor's lips part slightly, stunned at his accusation.

"Ok, I'm ready!" Harry yells, bounding out from the bedroom as he finishes linking the cuff link in his left sleeve. When he looks up, he sees Nick's hand on my back and stops in his tracks. "What's going on here?"

"We were just talking about how amazing Olivia looks," Nick smiles, nudging me playfully with his elbow. My head ducks again, eliciting a smile from Harry because he always thought that bashful move was adorable.

"T-thanks," I mutter, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips, and Harry can't remember the last time he saw a woman take a compliment so sincerely.

He hears a small huff, and for the first time, he realizes that Eleanor is standing there, obviously irritated that she didn't get his full attention, let alone any of it first. When his attention did finally turn to her, he first noticed her hair, moving to the pronounced pout on her lips before he recognizes the dress — the dress!

"What the hell are you wearing?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Eleanor's eyes widen, shocked and appalled at his reaction, her chin jutting out defiantly like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

"It's Marchesa," she states airily, running her hand over her stomach, her sleeves swishing loudly. "Don't you like it?"

"Umm..." he offers, biting his bottom lip as he eyes the length dubiously. "I thought you were wearing that white one?"

I'm sometimes so proud of how expertly he can avoid a question.

Eleanor blinks at him, her tiny fists curling into balls of rage as she forces them angrily to her sides. Harry can tell it's taking everything inch of willpower inside of her not to explode. He nervously scratches at his neck, trying to decide how to approach this.

"I mean...I like this one too, but I mean..." he trails, eyeing the length again. He hopes she's wearing black panties tonight, or she might be flashing some people. "W-won't you be cold?"

Eleanor snorts. "I have a coat, Harold." She bristled again, running her hands over her dress. "You look nice too," she says sarcastically, hinting at what he's done wrong since she obviously thinks he's too stupid to know.

Harry sighs. She was so high maintenance. "Honey, you know I think you're gorgeous in anything. You could wear a paper bag and still look amazing," he offers. Her eyes just narrow at him.