Chapter 4.
The next morning, Chloe awoke to a new pair of shoes staring at her. Beautiful strappy black suede… Louboutins? She sat up and immediately regretted doing so. Her head felt like a truck had driven directly into her face, then reversed and driven over it again. She groaned and fell back on the pillow, pulling the blanket over her eyes.
Wait a minute. This wasn't her blanket. This wasn't her bed. Oh no.
As her mind began to sort through a thousand worst-case scenarios, it quickly settled on The Worst… this was Lucifer's bed. She flung the blanket off of her body, wide-eyed. Okay, okay, it's okay, I'm wearing clothes, she thought. Not my clothes though.
She looked around. Her clothes were freshly pressed and hung on a hanger from the lamp above the shoes. Are those for me? she thought, horrified by what he might be apologizing for with them. She examined them in her hands. Perfectly sized, beautiful red sole… Whatever it is, she wasn't about to give them back. Still, a feeling of uneasiness rose from deep within her stomach. She stumbled a few steps before she heard his voice.
"Ah, you're awake! I trust you've found your clothes."
"What the hell happened?" she growled through her teeth. "Why am I in this dress? In your bed? Where are my shoes? And why does my head feel like… ohh," she knelt down and put her head between her hands. He wiped his hands on a towel and rushed to her side.
"Detective, detective… First of all, let me put your mind at ease, nothing happened."
She appreciated his honesty, recognizing that he could've easily taken advantage of her foggy memory to tease and tell her a grandiose lie. "I came here last night to…"
"Ah yes, here it is." He handed her some papers from his counter. "Freshly signed by the chief, as promised." She raised her eyebrow at him, grabbing the papers to examine. He wasn't lying this time.
"You had a drink," he continued. "Unfortunately, one of my patrons who is now a patron at your police station decided to add a little something extra while you weren't looking."
"My drink got drugged?"
"Yes, and I am terribly sorry. That is not the kind of clientele I allow in my midst, I assure you…"
"It's not your fault."
"Yes, well, I feel at least partially responsible for the oversight. You must have the worst hangover of all time right about now. I've made you breakfast."
"Oh god. No. I can't look at food."
"Not quite," he muttered under his breath. "Fine, a smoothie then."
"Fine. So how did I end up… here?"
"Well, you begged me not to take you to a hospital, so Maze and I watched over you."
'Like a stupid dog' She looked off into the distance, remembering Maze's annoyed voice from the night earlier. She wasn't sure what the rest of that conversation was like, though. "Thank you," she finally said with a puzzled look on her face. "You took care of me?"
"It's really no trouble."
"It must've been. I hope I didn't do anything terribly stupid."
He grinned, handing her a smoothie. "Oh, do I have some stories for you!"
There it was, she thought, of course I wasn't going to get off without hearing about it. She sighed and steeled herself for the upcoming barrage of embarrassing accounts.
"You fell into the hot tub. Well, climbed in first, really, with your shoes. I was really trying to watch out for you, but I couldn't save them, so I bought you new ones."
"Louboutins, that's really quite… I can't accept them."
"Don't be silly. I didn't know what brand yours were so I hoped perhaps you'd accept these as a suitable replacement."
"Suitable? They're only about $900 more than mine!"
He grinned. "Great, then it's settled! Oh, detective, I do hope you'll put them on for me sometime."
"Other clothing optional, I presume?" she teased. His eyes glowed and his grin widened. "Okay, what else?"
"Uhh… we nearly knocked over a vase, but no harm done."
"We? What were we doing?"
He retorted with the incredible speed of a man without a filter, "Don't worry about it."
"Lucifer!" a look of concern suddenly washed over her face and he felt a tinge of guilt for feeding her fears.
"Don't worry, nothing happened! I kissed your hand, or something like that." He looked away.
"You… kissed my hand?" she asked, confused.
"No need to dwell on it. Then we stood on the balcony for a while and I put you to bed. Which you hogged. Again."
She slumped down in a chair, nursing her smoothie and trying not to focus on her searing headache. "I suppose I should thank you, again, it was really very good of you to take care of me."
He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, taking a seat on the sofa across from her.
"It's funny, I had these really weird dreams…" she began. His eyes widened ever so slightly. "They were silly, really." I remember you…
"No, please do tell! How fascinating your mind must be in the night."
"Ha!" she rolled her eyes. "No, there was… music." You're the one who made my dreams come true…
"Music?"
"Yeah, like… heh, I guess you were playing piano in my dream." I remember you…
"Was I any good?"
"Fantastic, as always. It was a sugary melody, and it reminded me of a sunset… or something? How odd. All different colors." I remember too, a distant bell, and stars that fell like rain out of the blue…
He nodded, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "How odd indeed!"
"And then… it's all very confusing. Then…" she stopped, laughing. "We danced on the balcony at sunrise! Can you believe it? That drug must've been laced with pixie dust."
He forced a laugh as well. "Yes, how very implausible!"
"I remember feeling scared. Scared… well, at first, because my head was spinning so much, but then you… you carried me up to your place?"
"I may have."
Her face scrunched in skepticism. "Then, I wasn't scared. And then I was scared again, but this time… I've forgotten why," she said with a trace of sadness.
"Best not to think of it, then. You're safe now, that's what matters."
She nodded. "Thank you."
They sat like that for a while. It was a weekend and Chloe didn't have to worry about calling in sick for work. Eventually, she went off to get dressed and came out looking pristinely put together, carrying the shoes in hand.
"Darling, you're going to have to walk out of here in something."
"I know, but they're so extravagant. I really can't…"
"Nonsense. Think nothing of it. They are a gift for a dear friend, not an obligation of any sort."
She shifted her weight, torn between incredulity and the shoes she's always wanted. Finally, she deigned to put them on and took a seat to do so. Her feet slipped into them faultlessly. Surprisingly comfortable for heels, she thought. As she stood up, she noticed Lucifer's eyes watching her and gestured at him. He seemed startled before regaining his composure.
"My, my, you're a sight to behold," he beamed.
"Yeah?" she spun around, unable to help her own grin. "I guess they're okay…"
"If that's how you feel, give them back!" he tormented.
"Nope! You're never getting these back!" she laughed and turned to make her way toward the exit. She stopped halfway, though, and placed a hand on the bar. Without looking back, she asked hesitantly, "All these crazy dreams I had, they didn't actually happen, did they?"
He watched her, amused and slightly frightened by what his answer might open her mind to. "What if they did?"
She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. "Did they?"
"I promised I would tell you, I suppose, but look, it's really nothing…"
"We danced on the balcony? At sunrise?" her tone heightened with amusement.
"Only for a moment. You really wanted to."
"Oh, I really wanted to! …Man, actually, I must've been a handful. I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"Oh well. At least nothing happened."
"Yes, indeed." He chimed. She could've sworn he was avoiding her eyes, but decided that she was just imagining things because of her fatigue. He watched as she walked out, somehow feeling fulfilled and famished at the same time.
