“I can. If you can deal with me being insensitive and needy while I shove those papers under your nose every chance I get.”
“Deal.” She chuckled, though the sound hardly reflected mirth or good humor. After another pause--I could practically see her switching gears--she spoke again. “Now that it’s all settled, did you bring a dress for tonight?”
I sat up in bed, marveling at her expectation that, without a drop of caffeine in my body, I should keep up. “A dress?”
“For the fundraiser at the country club. Mom sent you the invitation a month or so ago. Did you forget?”
Oh, shit. “Fundraiser for your mom’s hospital charity thing. Nope.” I sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. “Okay. I forgot.”
She laughed. “That’s not a problem. I’ll pick you up at nine. I have to run into town and pick up Jack’s tux anyway, and there’s a great store over on Main Street by the office.”
“Sounds good.” Sleep and a nice, long cuddle with my pillow sounded better.
“I can call Margie and see if she’ll open early. If we leave now, we’ll have more time to find the perfect dress for your Texas debut.”
Apparently, being a child prodigy genius meant Rory didn’t require as much sleep as those of us with normal functioning brain cells. “No. Nine is perfect.”
“Great. You can get ready at my place, and we can all ride together.”
Rory always had a plan.
We hung up and at nine a.m. on the dot, she rang my doorbell, and let herself in. I’d fallen back to sleep after her call and barely made it to the shower before she arrived. The movers had been indiscriminant about how they tossed my belongings into the apartment, and I rooted through eight boxes before I finally got my hands on a towel. Her hair glistened in an up-do that highlighted my lack of style as well as my inability to locate my hairbrush in the packing boxes still stacked in my living room.
Once we finally made it to the store, she handed me several dresses to try on before she discovered the one. The long burgundy dress draped down my body in a single wave of perfection. Before I completed one spin, she shoved a pair of shoes at me and I fell in love. Red rhinestone accents wrapped around silver stiletto heels. The shoes were dyed the exact color of the dress.
“Oh my God. I think I’m having a shoe-gasm.” I clutched them against my body, ready to attack anyone who threatened our new relationship.
“I can see that.” Her dry smile belied her own love for stilettos and sling-backs.
The entire in-store excursion took about fifteen minutes, and she’d spent most of that time pulling dresses from the rack. “So, we’re done here?”
She took the dresses from the room and returned them to their hangers.
I slipped back into my own clothes, smoothed a hand down the fabric, and walked to the counter with her. Margie, who I immediately liked better than most people I’d ever met, ran my credit card and handed me a pen. I paused, the tip inches from the signature line as I ogled the low price.
Margie laid a hand on my arm. “It’s on sale,” she gushed.
“Wow. That must be some sale.”
She gave Rory a wink. “Well, little missy over there took care of a tax problem for me. Any friend of Rory’s is a friend of mine. And in my store, she gets the friend and family discount.”
“I guess we’ll see you tonight at the club?” Rory pulled the dress bag and shoebox off the counter, then shoved them against my chest. I was thankful she didn’t give Margie time to change her mind about the price.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. It’s not often I can get Hank into a tuxedo. ” She leaned closer to Rory. “Hank and I’ve been married so long I think he forgot a woman needs a night on the town every once in a while. I’m tired of seeing that man in the recliner in his underwear. You are a lucky girl to have a man like Jack. I would pay big money to have him sitting in my living room in nothing but his boxers.” Rory chuckled and Margie jumped to a new subject. “Did you get that Marshall girl to sit for you tonight?”
All this marriage and family talk made my ovaries shrink back in shame, and I tuned them out as they discussed babysitters, then Rory’s brother and his wife’s pregnancy glow. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years and didn’t feel like I’d missed a thing. As I stood there half ignoring their conversation, it became clear to me the only thing that would ever make my skin glow was a good facial scrub.
* * * *
Rory whipped my hair into shape while her brother, Tyler, paced and complained in her living room and his wife, Krista, applied my makeup. As the clock chimed seven, we walked into a ballroom big enough to house the town square.
A beaded chandelier the size of my bed hung overhead and refracted shards of muted light around the room. Candles provided dancing shadows on the walls and red and white rose petals lined the centers of the round tables circling the room’s perimeter. Arched windows emphasized by columns stretched up the walls and a domed glass ceiling let the moonlight shine through.
“Wow. This is beautiful.”
“Jack and I got married here.” She beamed a smile up at her husband. “Best night of my life.”
He kissed her lightly, and Tyler elbowed her as a woman dressed in gold with Rory’s hair and Tyler’s eyes made her way across the room. “Straighten up. Mom’s coming.”
He adjusted his tie as I watched her glide her way across the floor. When she finally stood on the outer fringe of our little circle, she reached out to pat Tyler’s lapel, smoothing it before he leaned in to lay a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t you look handsome.”
She hugged Krista, put a hand on her belly, welcomed me with an air kiss, then moved to speak with Rory. “Something’s wrong. No one’s dancing. I knew the orchestra was a bad idea. I should have gone with a band.”
Rory stepped from under Jack’s arm and took her mother by the shoulders. “Just breathe, Mom. It’s early. People are mingling. They’ll dance in a little while.”
“Right.” Her mother lifted her head, pushed out her chest, and shook her mass of sunny blond curls. “It’s early.” She looked out at the crowd, some seated, some standing, not a frown in the bunch. “Should I have gotten a band? I should have.”
“Mom.” At Rory’s sharp tone, Mrs. Jordyn jerked her gaze back to meet her daughter’s glare. “It’s early.”
I took the time during their exchange to study the room. Pricey gowns, designer shoes, and tuxedos fitted by the gods themselves, decorated every single body in viewing distance. It took me a few minutes, but when I found him, the breath sucked from my body--Blane in a tuxedo. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks to God for creating the man who had the sheer and utter brilliance, and foresight, to design and market male formalwear. “Mrs. Jordyn, I have a sudden urge to dance. I think I can help you out.”
“Grace, I wouldn’t be able to thank you enough.” She squinted at Rory as she spoke to me.
I strutted across the floor to the man whose gaze locked on to mine with my first step toward him. “I guess you’re over being mad at me?” He stepped away from his friends. With the smallest whiff of his cologne, the slightest touch of his hand, he enchanted me, and I would have followed him anywhere he wanted.
I pulled a crystal flute off a passing waiter’s tray and took a big gulp. Much better. “I decided you’re allowed to have your opinion.” I tilted my head and smiled. “Even if it’s short-sighted and wrong.”
He chuckled and the melody of it sent the first flutters of a thrill racing along my flesh. “I think I like you, Grace Wade.”
“Enough to dance with