Page 72 of The Kiss Class
Isla styles my hair in a 1950s flip. I put on our mother’s pearl earrings that she wore on her wedding day. They’re insistent I wear them this year because they always like to bring a little bit of Mom to the festivities.
“It would’ve been our parents’ thirtieth anniversary,” Anna says.
“Do you think Dadaszek’s okay?” I ask, worried that if he sees me in these earrings, he might get upset.
Isla tsks. “I’d be more concerned about him with you and Pierre in the same room.”
I press my lips together because I haven’t told my family about Pierre and me. Strangely, they haven’t asked about the ring on my finger. Then again, they only returned from the Caribbean this morning.
Clearing my throat, I’m about to come clean when the whistle blows from downstairs. Dadaszek hollers, “Guests arrive in five.”
Nerves blow through me like a northern wind. I promise myself that I’ll tell everyone the truth by the night’s end. Or tomorrow. That will work, too.
Helen and her husband, Harry, are the first to arrive. I spent all afternoon yesterday discussing job prospects with her and my father. She decided for him and has me scheduled to train under her for a week starting Monday.
Next, Micah and Meg show up with Redd and Whitney, who looks glam in a little black dress. Hayden and Delaney come in on a round of laughter, followed by Ted and Harlow, also in black. Last in line are Hammer and Pierre, who’re waxing poetic about cereal milk. It’s a surprise to see a semi-smile on Hammer’s face. He must really like cereal milk.
We greet our guests, and my sisters lead everyone through to the front room, leaving Pierre and me in the foyer.
“Fancy meeting you here.” He loops his forefinger around my ring finger.
“You look fancy,” I say, smoothing my hand down the lapel of his tux.
“It’s nice to have an occasion to dress up other than for a game.”
“Do you like dressing up?” I ask, considering he grew up on a farm.
“I like seeing you dressed up.” His flirty eyes drink me in from head to toe.
A shockwave rushes through me. “You can thank my sisters for the outfit.”
“But you’re the one who wears it so well.”
Pierre’s hand reaches for my waist. At his touch, my thoughts go fuzzy and I glance over my shoulder to where everyone is gathered.
“We should?—”
He nods. “Have you told him?”
Giving my head a short shake, we enter the room where Ilsa sits at the piano, preparing to play. A few folks gather around her, but of course, my father wants to say a few words of welcome first.
He gives a little speech about the passage of time, the highlights from the year, and the promise of the new one.
All the while, Pierre stands dangerously close to my back, heating me, and making me think terrible thoughts about closets. I mean, they’re great thoughts unless we get caught.
Dadaszek lifts his glass in a toast, and I know he’s dedicating the year ahead to Mom. If only she could see us now. What would she say? Think? Do?
Considering she and my father eloped on New Year’s Eve, once the singing around the piano is underway, distracting everyone, I grip Pierre’s hand and lead him to the coat closet.
Squished in here and towering over me, he says, “So?”
“So,” I repeat, not having come up with a good way to break the news to my father.
“Considering I was welcomed inside, it might not go as badly as you expect?”
“I was in his office nearly all day. But I didn’t have a chance, but I think he sawit.” The mixed-cut square diamond on my finger glitters in the low light.
Pierre’s eyebrows fly up. “Should I be worried that your father booby-trapped the house like in Home Alone?”
