Emerson couldn’t stifle an eye roll.
“And Emerson...”
“I know, I know. I look like a little kid playing dress up.” Emerson sighed and steeled herself for the critique.
Her mother scrutinized her for a moment before stepping forward. She pushed a curl behind Emerson’s ear. “I know this dress is not your personal style, but I was going to say you look beautiful.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Maybe one day you’ll realize just how beautiful.”
Her throat tightened.
Jack told her she’d looked beautiful, and now her mother had too. But there was one person who had never said that. It was no wonder he’d left her at the altar. Why had she even been surprised?
Stepping back, Beatrice said, “Although, now that you mention it, when you slouch like that, you do look like a nine-year-old. Stand up tall, with your shoulders back. Like your sister.”
Once again, discomfort overtook her. She pulled at the dress. “I should change. Amelia, can you help me?” She didn’t wait for a response. Instead she pulled her sister through the store, past the racks of tulle, beading, lace, and organza. She ignored the shelves of sparkly tiaras and the glass cases filled with elegant jewelry. She didn’t stop until she was locked firmly in the dressing room with her sister.
“I really need to get out of this dress.” She began pulling and tugging, trying to figure out how to get it off her.
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Amelia was behind her, quickly undoing the buttons.
When she was finally freed from the cumbersome dress, Emerson let out a long sigh. She crumbled down to the chair in her strapless bra and nude panties. For good measure, she took another long inhale of breath.
“Thanks for covering for me out there, Mia,” she said to her sister.
“No problem. But, Em, what in the hell happened? Where did you go? What’s wrong?”
I hate weddings. I hate wedding dresses. But most of all, I hate that Thad made me hate weddings and wedding dresses.
Emerson wanted to tell her sister. But the words were stuck in her throat.
“Is this because of Thad?” Amelia asked in a quiet voice.
She really should give her sister more credit. Emerson nodded. “Kind of.”
Amelia pointed at her. “I knew it. I told Mama not to have you come in today. I told her you weren’t ready for this.”
“You and Mama talked about me?”
“Of course,” she said, as if they talked about her all of the time. “Mama disagreed. She thinks you’re ready to start dating again.”
Emerson saw her own horrified face reflected back at her in the three-way mirror. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to date. More, she knew her mother would have a list of suitors lined up, each suckier than the last.
“Maybe you should start getting out there again,” Amelia offered. “I mean, your wedding—”
“Nonwedding, you mean,” Emerson said.
“Sorry, Em. Your nonwedding was over a year ago. Have you been out with anyone since Thad?”
She shook her head. Amelia’s eyes filled with sadness. That look was enough to have Emerson popping up and grabbing her jeans and the red blouse she’d worn when she had first arrived at the shop. She dressed quickly, threw her hair back in a ponytail and faced her sister. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“But, Em, I, uh, get it. I do. I mean, with me and Charlie...”
She didn’t let Amelia finish the thought. It was barely noon and it already felt like the longest day ever. The last thing she wanted to hear about was her sister’s perfect husband and even more ideal marriage. Instead she headed toward the front of the store, ready to bid her mother farewell and get back to work. Only, her mother had other ideas.
“Oh Emerson, before you go, I wanted to tell you that my friend Suzette—you remember her, right?” She didn’t wait for Emerson’s answer. “Suzette is having a dinner party next week and her son will be there. He’s just recently moved back from New York. He’s a year older than you.”
Emerson froze. “Um, I have to work that night.”
Beatrice squinted. “I haven’t told you what day it is.” She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Doesn’t matter. Also, Patty Ellington-Ross’s nephew is available and I thought it would be nice for you to show him around town. After all, Patty did attend your wedding. Or she tried to.”
Emerson didn’t know which part of that statement pissed her off the most.
Amelia jumped in. “Mama, I actually have a guy that I think would be perfect for Em. He works with Charlie.”
Emerson knew her sister was trying to help her, attempting to get their mother off her back. But she honestly couldn’t tell if Amelia really did want to set her up or not.
“I don’t need anyone to set me up on dates,” she said.
“Of course you do.” Her mother waved a hand in a flippant manner. “You haven’t been on a date since Thad.”
She took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m seeing someone,” she shouted.
Her mother and Amelia both paused, with their eyes going wide.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Amelia asked.
At the same time, her mother said, “Who is he? What’s his name?”
Now she’d really done it. She had wanted to keep Jack out of this for as long as possible. But it looked like she would have to move up the timeline. At least, she could probably keep her family away from him until the anniversary party. They should be happy enough to simply know of his existence.
“His name is Jack Wright and we haven’t been seeing each other very long.” She glanced at the time on her cell phone display. A whole hour had passed since she’d landed on top of Jack.
“Jack Wright,” her mother rolled the name around on her tongue, the same way her father savored a good bourbon.
“Right. I didn’t tell you about him because the whole thing is still so new. You know, I didn’t want to jinx anything.”
Her mother folded her arms across her chest.
Emerson felt obliged to elaborate. “Plus I was so ridiculously busy planning the food truck festival.”
Her mother started tapping her foot. “What does this Jack Wright do?”
Not for the first time in her life, Emerson had to wonder why mothers insisted on putting this in front of people’s names.
“He owns The Wright Drink, that bar I mentioned.”
“A bar?” Her mother’s eyebrows shot so high up her forehead, they might as well be across the Potomac River, in the District. “He’s a bartender?”
“Yes, but he also owns the bar.” Emerson could feel her anger rising. God forbid her boyfriend—or fake boyfriend—wasn’t a lawyer, like her father and her perfect brother-in-law.
“Wait,” Amelia added. “Didn’t you just say that bar was a new client? You’re going out with one of your clients?”
Thanks, sis. “That’s how we met. He hired me. I know it’s not the best idea, but I’ll only be working on the bar for a limited time.”
Silence fell over them. But the quiet was a mere reprieve, because the rapid-fire questions began almost immediately.
“How old is he? Where’s his family from?” her mother asked.
“Is he hot?” Amelia asked.
“Where did he go to school?”
“What’s he like?”
Jack was right. They totally needed to get to know each other. And fast.
“Um, um...”
“You need to bring him to dinner,” her mother announced. “At the house. We should meet him.”
“Why?” she screeched.
“Because it’s customary for the family to get to know your boyfriend.”
Amelia snorted. “Yeah, maybe in 1950. Mama, you are so old-fashioned.”
Beatrice actually appeared shocked by the statement.
“No, I’m not. I’m just a concerned mother, taking an interest in her daughter’s life.”
Amelia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Concerned? More like nosy.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll stay out of it completely.” Beatrice tipped her nose into the air. “I won’t ask either of you anything about your lives. I’ll just stay on the sidelines, completely quiet.”
“Sounds good to me,” Emerson said.
Unfortunately, Amelia had a different reply. She put her arm around their mother’s shoulders. “Mama, we would never want that.”
Emerson shook her head. Her sister would never learn. She fell into their mother’s traps every single time.
Seeming appeased, Beatrice said, “Thank you, darling.” She kissed Amelia on the forehead. “Besides, most people think I’m quite modern, with impeccable taste. You know how in-demand this store is. We rarely have an opening for a fitting.”
“Here we go again,” Emerson said in a stage whispered to her sister, knowing exactly where this was going. “The reality show.”
Beatrice put on an air of shock. “What? It’s true. That network did want to film a reality show here. But I didn’t want to expose our brides-to-be to that kind of public scrutiny.”
Amelia snorted. “You may be on the cutting edge here at the store, but everywhere else in your life, you are so, so...”
“Southern,” Emerson finished for her.
“And what is wrong with that? My mama knew every young man who courted me.”
She saw Amelia biting her tongue at the use of courted.
“But the whole thing is so new,” Emerson protested.
“Thursday night at the house. Let’s see.” Beatrice tapped her finger against her lips. “We’ll have a filet and use my mama’s china.”
“Honestly, Mama, no one does stuff like that. We’re eating dinner with some guy Em’s dating, not the Queen of England.”
“I think it’s nice to put a little effort into dinner. Makes a guest feel special.”
“I’m gonna throw up,” Emerson announced.
Her mother narrowed her eyes. But after a long moment, she acquiesced. “Fine. We’ll have chicken and dumplings.”
“Yes!” Amelia pumped her fist into the air. Beatrice Dewitt truly did make the best chicken and dumplings in town.
“I’ll even use our normal, everyday plates. Satisfied?” She arched an eyebrow in Emerson’s direction.
“But, Mama, this is all unnecessary.”
“However, we are definitely eating in the dining room. I will not compromise on that.” Her mother wasn’t listening. She was already in full-on planning mode, filling a void left after Amelia’s wedding.
“Seven o’clock, Emerson. Tell this Jack to be there. Amelia, come with me.” She snapped her fingers, and with a smile to Emerson, Amelia was following their mother. “Did you remember to change the bridesmaids’ dresses from pink to lavender for the Theez-Porter wedding?”
Emerson turned toward the door, feeling her heart once again beating much too quickly. She’d really done it now. If it wasn’t bad enough that she’d hooked up with a fake boyfriend, she’d gotten her fake boyfriend hooked up with her family.
Chapter Four
“We’ve been outed.”
Jack was behind the bar at The Wright Drink with Oscar, the one other bartender who had been on the payroll. They both looked at Emerson, who stood across the bar from them, wearing an exasperated expression.
“Good evening to you too.” He found himself amused by her yet again.
“It’s not going to be good for too long, once I tell you what I stupidly did today.”
“Didn’t I see you not too long ago? How many things could you have done?” He exchanged a few words with Oscar, made sure he would be fine with the five whole customers who’d come in tonight, before he walked around the bar to join Emerson. She was removing her jacket. That’s when his mouth went dry.
“What?” she asked, eyeing him.
“Your outfit.”
She looked down, running a hand over her cherry-red shirt and fitted jeans. “What’s wrong with it?” She fidgeted, and it drew his attention to the sexy boots she had on. Tall, black leather boots that almost reached her knees.
“Nothing. It’s just a lot better than the last thing I saw you in.” Not to mention, her face wasn’t pale and she didn’t have that anxious look in her eyes. Instead it had been replaced with a wild, somewhat exasperated look.
“Oh well, anything would be an improvement over that massive white monstrosity, otherwise called a wedding dress. Cosmo, my love. Hello, handsome.” At her voice, Cosmo had stirred from his bed under the bar and come out to visit, tail wagging happily. She bent to pet, and lavish attention on, the dog.
Jack had meant what he’d said to her earlier. She had looked beautiful. But she was gorgeous now too. He loved the reddish-brown color of her hair and how one curl fell right over her pretty blue eyes. And he couldn’t deny that he really liked her petite, yet curvy, body. Emerson Dewitt was a beauty all around.
He swallowed a lump down his overly dry throat. “Thirsty?” Because he sure as hell was.
“Sure.”
“We have some iced tea, water, soda, if you’re not in the mood for alcohol. Of course, we also have a fully stocked bar.”
She had picked up Cosmo again and was snuggling him to her chest. “How about scotch?”
“Seriously?” he said with a laugh. Damn, the woman impressed him.
“After the day I’ve had, I really need one. And please go with a good one.”
“You got it, boss.” He gestured to Oscar, who grabbed two glasses, even as he wore an amused expression. “How do you like it?”
“Neat.”
As Oscar poured two Scotches, neat, Jack eyed her. She placed Cosmo onto the floor and scratched behind his ears. Clearly in heaven, the dog closed his eyes as his little pink tongue lolled out of his mouth.
“And I didn’t forget about you. No, I didn’t,” she cooed. After digging in her purse, she produced a rawhide bone. “Is this okay?” she asked Jack.
Not only did Jack have no idea if it was okay for the dog, but he couldn’t deny him when Cosmo was now practically doing backflips over the prospect of a treat.
“It’s fine.”
She made the dog sit before giving him the bone, and Jack was surprised to learn that he actually knew that command. He’d tried most of the afternoon to get the dog to do all manner of tricks. He’d gotten nothing.
He returned his attention to Emerson. “So, what’s going on?”
She sighed. “The jig is up. My mother knows about you.”
Jack ushered her toward one of the back corner booths. Cosmo trotted along, carrying his bone. The dog jumped up first, making himself at home between the two of them.
“I thought you weren’t going to mention me for a couple of weeks?”
She took a long pull of her scotch and closed her eyes as a seductive little sound emanated from her mouth. Despite the sip of scotch he’d just taken, his throat remained dry.
“That was the plan,” she said, as her eyes opened slowly and focused on him. As if she knew where his mind had just been, she smiled slowly. Seductively.
“Anyway,” she continued. “I panicked. I’m a horrible liar.”
“That should be interesting, considering what we’re about to do.” He chuckled.
“I don’t think you’re grasping the severity of the situation.” She pulled one leg up under her and draped her arm over the back of the booth, as the glass of scotch dangled from her fingers. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
Honestly, he’d gone through a myriad of emotions when he’d first stumbled upon her. Or, he should say, when she’d stumbled out of the window and onto him.
Jack had gone from curious t
o concerned, to amused. Finally, he’d had to admit that he’d also been attracted as hell. He was happy to help her out with this little ploy so that he could get some help in turn on the bar. But even if he weren’t getting anything in return, he’d probably still help her. How could he say no to those light blue eyes, that pouty mouth and, okay, that sexy rack.
“Jack, are you listening to me?”
Her voice pulled him out of his musing and he hoped he hadn’t been staring at her chest. “Sorry, what now?”
“I said we have to have dinner at my parents’ house this Thursday. Amelia and her new husband, Charlie, will be there too.”
“That’s not so bad. It’s just dinner.”
She stared at him as if he’d just told her the Earth was flat. “This is going to be torture. You clearly have no idea what a card-carrying, mint-julep-drinking, honest-to-goodness Southern mama is like. I mean, she wanted to use her antique china for dinner.”
“Is that bad?”
“It’s...not right. And don’t get me started on this whole reality-show delusion she has. I mean, we showed her one episode of Say Yes to the Dress and she thinks she’s TV-ready.”
He was having a hard time keeping up with her. “What’s Say Yes to the Dress?”
His question seemed to snap her out of her rant. “Never mind.” Finally, she took a breath. “Where is your mom, by the way?”
His face fell. Even after all of this time, his heart still ached for his mom. “She died when I started high school.”
“Oh Jack.”
She reached over and placed her hand over his. The shock of her skin on his was immediate and electric. He’d never experienced anything like this sensation before—not with any woman he’d ever met before. Her fingers curled around his hand and squeezed. He might as well have eaten a big bowl of chicken noodle soup. His entire inside warmed.
“Thanks. It was tough, but it was a long time ago.” He knocked back more scotch, anxious to change the subject. “So, I don’t understand why this dinner is going to be so terrible.” He nudged her leg with his and she smiled.
“We are going to be so grilled about our ‘relationship’—” she made little quotes with her fingers “—we might as well pierce ourselves with kabob sticks and jump on the barbecue now.”
The Dating Arrangement Page 4
