“No,really, do you think I should be worried?”
Brandonreached over, barely touching my hand, and I scolded myself for melting just alittle at his touch. The intense sincerity held within his eyes wasn’t helpingeither. “No. I think it’ll be just fine, and if it’s not, I promise I will kickhis ass.”
“Oh,I’m not sure you could. You haven’t seen what he looks like.” I had laughed,feeling a little more at ease again, as though his promised protection couldkeep me from being shackled to the walls of a cellar.
“Idon’t give a shit what he looks like. I will kick his ass if he so much aslooks at you the wrong way.”
That’sall a woman needs to hear to swoon, and oh, I did. But just a little.
Ithought about his comments about killers and houses of horror when Esther hadtottered over later on, with mugs of tea in hand. I gave her the juicy detailsabout the date, as her eyes wrinkled up in delight at the thought of dining atBankers. She treated it as though it were a magical, far-off land, and I guessfor many of us, it was.
“Well,”Esther said, finishing off the last of her tea. “It’s time for me to hobble myway back home. Have fun on your date, and byfun, I mean …” She winked,and I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Hey, he’s rich,” she stated, as thoughthat made a difference.
“Oh,my God,” I groaned and pushed her out the door. “I don’t think him having moneyhas any effect on how well he performs in bed.”
“Christalmighty, when he stinks of money, it doesn’t matter how well heperforms.Have I taught you nothing?”
***
“Okay,”Liz said, clapping her hands together. “We need to find you something to wear.You can’t just go in yoga pants and a sweatshirt. You need a dress orsomething.”
Aperk of being one half of a kind of, up-and-coming “power couple” was havingthe privilege of attending my share of black tie events, where it was necessaryto wear gowns that could have comfortably been worn by Kate Middleton. I heldonto them after my move back to Long Island, and one happened to be thisstunning floor-length black satin dress with a sweetheart neckline. BlackSwarovski crystals were sprinkled over the bust line, falling into a gradienttowards the waist.
Itmight have been just a little too much for Bankers, but fuck it. It was myfirst date since Stephen, and I was going to rock the hell out of it in any wayI could.
OnceI had managed to shimmy my way into the dress, I stood back and admired myselfin the mirror. Camille purred her agreement as I mumbled, “Wow, I lookfreakin’ hot right now.” I did a little twirl, careful tonot step on the dragging hem and dammit, I felt like royalty.
Stepaside, Middleton.
PrincessHollyfreakin’ Hughes is in the house.
Therewas a nagging memory trying to pull its way into the spotlight of my mind. Thememory of the last time I had gotten myself dressed up for an occasion—thenight I was meant to be engaged to Stephen. But just as it reared its uglyhead, I pushed it back down with everything I had. I wasn’t going to let thisnight be ruined, and especially not byhim.
Withmy strappy black stilettos buckled up and my makeup done just right, I emergedfrom my room and walked down the hall to find Liz and Anna standing there inthe living room, wearing smiles from ear to ear. If I had gone to prom, Iimagined this is probably what it would’ve felt like. For a moment, I felt likemy parents were missing some momentous occasion and thought maybe we shouldcall them over to take some embarrassing pictures for the family photo album.
“Youlook so pretty, but …” Liz hurried to fuss with my hair and all I could do wasroll my eyes. She pinned my hair up into a messy French Twist, insisting thatthe messy look was sexy and would guarantee me a spot in his boudoir.
“Youpeople are obsessed with me getting laid,” I noted.
Lizshrugged. “I just want to see you happy, and if that’s what’sgonnado it, then—” She shrugged again. “Now, go. He’sgoing to be waiting for you.”
Lizrushed me out the door and waved as I made my way toOl’Rusty, my chariot for the evening. Where was my fairy godmother to turn thatthing into a golden carriage pulled by unicorns?
Ireleased a long, heavy sigh and realized there was no turning back now. Mystomach did a flip in response and I prayed I wouldn’t throw up.
***
So,there I was, puttering along Main Street; the muffler announcing my presencebefore the van was in view of anybody. I prayed to God I could find a parkingspace far,faraway from the restaurant, and I could just walk there. Imean, I had lived in thefreakin’ city for over adecade, for crying out loud. I could handle a little clumsy walk in some heels.There was just no way this guy was going to see me driving this hunk of metalthat was more than likely evaporating by the second under my own ass.
Ipulled around back to see if there was any parking available that wasn’t tooclose for the van to be an embarrassment, and just as I spotted a space, ayoung man knocked on the window.
Withthe touch of a button, the window groaned its way down, and for some reason, Ifelt compelled to speak to him as though I were someone of importance. I hadthe sneaking suspicion that my ride was blowing my cover. “Yes, my good man?”
Hesmiled apologetically. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to startle you.” I wasn’tsure I gave the impression that I had been startled. “I’ll be taking yourminivan from here.”
Thekid just had to remind me that I’m not sitting in a Porsche.
Ifelt my cheeks flush with humiliation. “What do you mean? Where are you takingmy car?”
