Davis by Ingrid Harrison

Author:Ingrid Harrison [Harrison, Ingrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-23T18:30:00+00:00

Adding a small diamond necklace I had received from my mom, I loved the teardrop design, and it worked so well with the dress as the necklace was just the right length, resting between the swell of my breasts.

I put on some extra-large hoop earrings, which were partially hidden as my hair had been teased out around my face, and then falling down my back in waves. I liked the added curl I had added to my hair hoping Davis thought the new style looked flattering.

I wore my favorite perfume by Michael Kors, just adding a dab at the base of my throat and on each wrist.

Taking a last glance, I left the bathroom. I could hear Davis talking with someone in the front room, and I moved a couple of needed items into a small black bag, and was ready to walk out when I heard Davis call out, “Steph, you almost ready?”

I stepped out of the bedroom before he finished his sentence, smiling up at him.

“Ready,” I said looking away from Davis’s blazing blue eyes, and turning towards the other man in the room.

“Steph,” he said, before I could acknowledge him. “Great to see you again. It’s been too long.”

I reached out giving Leo a hug. “You look great,” I said with a smile. “I see he hasn’t given you too many grey hairs.”

“Hell,” Leo laughed, “This man is finally getting smarter in his old age.”

As we walked down to a car that was waiting for us, Davis bent his head low, saying in my ear huskily, “You look good enough to eat.”

I laughed self-consciously, and tried to push him away, but his arm around my waist held me close to him.

I am not sure what Leo thought, as he knew I was his step-sister, but as Davis was technically his boss, I suppose he knew better than to voice any opinion he may have had about Davis’s change in demeanor towards me. Davis was making it clear that we were together, his arm around me, or his hand in mine.

I wouldn’t let what anyone said to me about Davis and I deter me. I knew what we were doing was not ugly or tawdry. Just because our parents met and fell in love, that had no bearing on Davis and I, and our relationship together.

The next few hours passed in a whir. Davis was constantly being taken over here, and then he was needed over there. I generally spent time in the back room, seeing him only occasionally.

There were others in the room with me as well; the wife of the guitarist and a few women that seemed to hang around at the shows, perhaps girlfriends of the piano player or drummer. I wasn’t sure, and didn’t dare question it.

More people came in and out, and I knew a lot of them were Davis’s crew, responsible for hauling and setting up the instruments and sound equipment. If Davis was there, he always made a point of introducing me to whoever showed up.

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