by Susan Hatler
“How low?” Ellen reappeared with Kathia and they began attacking the gown again. “What are we talking about?”
“Cheating.” I peeked at the time. “Ellen, the dress looks great and, I hate to say this, but I have somewhere to be.”
“We’re almost done.” She crouched down to where the hem swept the floor, pointed to a spot near the slit, and Kathia went at it. Ellen gazed up at me, concern in her eyes. “Who’s cheating on who?”
“Jeremy,” I said. “Old news.”
Rachel sighed. “Can we make it a rule to never again bring up the J word?”
“Deal.” I couldn’t help wondering if Chris had overlapped any of the girls he’d dated. “Rach? Do you have Chris’s number in your phone?”
She gave me a weird look. “Why would I have his number?”
Her defensive tone made me wonder. “Calm down. I just need to tell him not to pick me up at my house. He’s supposed to be there in eight minutes and you know . . .”
I gestured toward the ladies crouching down at my already well-fitted dress.
“I believe we have it.” Kathia spoke through a mouthful of pins. “What do you think, Ellen?”
We all gazed in the center mirror at the striking, red, strapless number and held our breaths, waiting for the bride’s decision. With the (many) pins, it flowed over my curves without a single wrinkle, crinkle, or flaw. The dress looked amazing. Well, according to me anyway. We’d have to hear the boss’s conclusion.
Ellen’s expression was unreadable. I fought not to bounce on my heels as the minutes ticked by and I sensed the very real possibility that we’d be spending all night tailoring this gown.
She skirted around the dress, eyeing every inch up and down. Finally, her gaze flew to Kathia, to Rachel, then landed on me. Her face broke with emotion and she put both hands to her cheeks as tears filled her eyes. “It’s just perfect. B-Beautiful.”
I let out a whoosh, ready to un-zip out of this thing. “Thank goodness.”
Instead of letting me skidaddle, Ellen pulled me into a crushing bear-hug and refused to let go. She let out a sob. “Oh, Gina.”
I pulled back, pushing her dirty-blonde locks away from her face, trying to gauge what was going on. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I-I think it just finally hit me. I’m getting married in four days.”
Witnessing her tears of joy, my throat suddenly tightened and my own eyes watered. “You’re supposed to be smiling. You and Henry will have the world’s most perfectly organized wedding.”
A grin broke across her face, then she leaned in for another hug.
I held my friend and savored the moment. “I know you guys will live happily ever after. With a very nice tan from your honeymoon, to boot.”
Her shoulders bobbed as she chuckled.
“Well, I have to get in on this.” Rach threw down her handbag, hurried over, then draped her arms around us and started sniffling. “Kristen’s going to be jealous she missed out.”
She probably would. Because it felt like one of those moments that come out of nowhere, but we remember forever. Not at the bridal shower. Not at the wedding. But in a bridal boutique’s dressing room where a fastidious seamstress watched on with misty eyes.
****
After I changed back into my gray pants suit with a white camisole underneath—why hadn’t I worn something nicer to work today like, I don’t know, a cocktail dress?—, I hurried to my car where I found three voicemails from Chris: Gina, it’s Chris. I’m a little early but you’re not answering the door so thought I’d call in case you were indisposed and I had to talk you out.
Then, a beep beep: Hey, Gina. Me again. Your roommate arrived and invited me in. Really hoping you show up soon. She’s going off about your friend, Ethan, and I’m not sure how much more I can take. Call me.
Next, a beep beep: Now, I’m worried. It’s after seven and your roommate couldn’t reach you either. I’m waiting in my car because she asks a lot of personal questions, like she’s trying to psycho-analyze me or something. Hope everything’s all right. Call when you get this.
I noted two missed calls from Kristen. Part of me wanted to chew her out for interrogating my friend-date, but the rest of me wanted to find out what she’d learned.
After texting Chris that I’d have to meet him at the restaurant, I checked my practically make-up free face in the visor’s mirror. All I had in my purse was lipstick, so I dabbed on the Mocha Madness, then drove to the location Chris texted back to me.
Since it was a weeknight, I managed to find street parking less than two blocks away from the address, and my heels clicked against the pavement as I ran down the block. As I arrived, Chris stepped out of his sedan looking very hot in a suit and tie as he handed his keys to the valet driver. He glanced up just before I practically barreled into him.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” I managed between gulps for air. Really had to hit the gym soon. I grabbed his arm, ready to explain. “Ellen called for a last minute dress fitting. When we started running late, I realized my cell was in my car, but I had on the dress and there were all these pins—”
“Don’t worry.” His expression was surprisingly calm as he eyed my hand clutching his arm. “You’ve got quite a grip. Not that I’m complaining.”
I couldn’t believe he wasn’t freaking out. George had worked himself into a fit when I’d made us late. “But it’s your first dinner with your new boss. You dared me to help you look good, not make a bad impression. Are you upset with me? I take full blame. Please tell your boss that—”
“Gina.” He cupped my chin between his thumb and index finger, his light blue eyes holding me captive, and my heart fluttered. “It’s fine. Really.”
Standing this close, mesmerized by his soothing gaze, I breathed in his spicy aftershave. “This is an important dinner. You can’t be so forgiving.”
“How about I let you make it up to me then.” He whispered it like a promise I wanted badly to fulfill, then took hold of my hand and tugged me toward the entrance. “Let’s not keep them waiting any longer though.”
The gold-framed automatic doors opened as we crossed the wild-patterned burgundy carpet and a flutter rolled through my belly as he kept hold of my hand. Did he notice that he still had it? Or was he so used to holding a girl’s hand that he did it absentmindedly? Because every cell in my body was very aware of his warm skin against mine.
Chris gave his name to the host, who led us to a private room I was surprised to see filled with half a dozen tables. Most people were standing, a glass of beer or wine in their hand.
I leaned toward Chris. “I thought it would just be your boss and his wife?”
“That’s what I was told.” He shrugged, but didn’t seem uncomfortable with the unexpected change. With a little squeeze, he released my hand as we wove between tables toward a tall, handsome man wearing rimless glasses. Chris held out his arm. “Walt. Sorry we’re late.”
The older gentleman shook Chris’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “Glad to have you, Chris. There are a few people I’m eager to introduce you to.”
As Walt led Chris around the room, I marveled at Chris’s ability to charm everyone. He seemed to do it effortlessly, too, as if it came naturally to him. When he introduced me to Walt’s wife as “Gina,” (instead of “my friend, Gina”) I wondered if she thought I might be his girlfriend. Not that I wanted her to think that. Although why not? It’s not like she knew he preferred to bring a friend as his guest rather than someone on his speed-dial.
I didn’t know why his not finding me date-worthy still bugged me. Must have bruised my ego, I guess. No other reason I should care. Nor was there a good excuse for my squinting in the direction of the brunette vixen, I recognized from Cafe Mattia. She strode over to Chris and chatted him up with her own set of charm. Didn’t Ms. Human Resources Manager have her own date?
It turned out she did not have her own date. I knew this because they
seated her at our table. Next to Chris. Why he wasn’t sitting next to his new boss was beyond me. No, they’d seated me next to Walt’s wife, Cynthia, and Walt was on her other side next to another newbie named John Baird who laughed a bit too loud as if he was nervous.
“How did you and Chris meet?” Cynthia said, making it hard for me to hear what Chris and Ms. H.R. were saying.
“We work together at the software company Chris is leaving,” I said, trying my best to ignore the feminine chuckle coming from Ms. H.R. I mean, really, were they going to talk close like that all night? Where was our waiter?
On the other side of the room, in fact. Not about to break up whatever scintillating—I’m sorry, but it can’t be 401K related—conversation that was making Ms. H.R. drop that sexy laugh every few seconds.
“Oh, I’m familiar with your company.” Cynthia proceeded to tell me how her husband’s software business would have much better opportunities for Chris, which was probably true or Chris wouldn’t have taken the job.
After Cynthia turned her attention to the menu, I leaned over to Chris. “Would you mind ordering me a Cobb salad? I need to run to the ladies room.”
He gave me a look I didn’t know how to interpret. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” I might’ve stayed until after the waiter had hit our table and then asked to be excused, but I couldn’t take any more of Ms. H.R.’s throaty laughter.
When I got to the powder room, I splashed cold water on my face. If Chris wanted to talk to that girl Tina all night then why had he bothered asking me to come? And why hadn’t he saved me from listening to Cynthia wax on about her hubby’s company when I wanted to be talking to him? I mean, I’d rather be talking to Ethan about Julius Caesar. Well, almost.
Then I told myself to be fair. Chris had dared me to be his date before he’d known Tina would be here. He apparently found her more attention-worthy than me, which was a huge kick in the gut. Okay, so I hadn’t exactly acted overjoyed when he’d asked me out. Maybe I had been a bit snarky when I’d seen him on a lunch date with her. And, well, I had made him late for his important dinner.
But I’d done him a favor. More importantly, I’d been looking forward to spending time with him, which just showed what a fool I was. If Chris could hurt me over something like this, imagine how vulnerable I’d be if I really let him in.
I picked up a fancy hand towel from the basket and dabbed it on my face. Then I slid Mocha Madness over my lips, once again wishing I looked my best tonight. Ms. H.R. sure did.
Staring at my reflection, I gripped the edges of the sink, and forced myself to accept reality. This wasn’t a competition I could win. Chris had only invited me to avoid being a third wheel, which he wasn’t anymore. If he preferred to be with this Tina girl then, as a friend, I should excuse myself and go home. Besides, TV and dessert would be better than suffering through more of their flirting.
Chris had obviously made his choice, so I just needed to bow out gracefully. I tried to convince myself that leaving didn’t bother me.
My stomach tightened. No, not at all.
****
With my head down, I hurried out of the ladies room ready to make excuses and bail on this shindig. Instead, I crashed into a solid chest wearing a silky blue tie. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching—”
“You can bump into me anytime.” Chris rubbed my elbows as I peeled myself away from him.
“I’m surprised Ms. H.R. let you sneak away for a minute.” Well, that wasn’t the tactful way I’d imagined bowing out of our friend-date. I raised my hands in the air, ready to take it back when he opened his mouth first.
“So she is coming on a bit strong, right?” He shook his head, then glanced behind him as if making sure she hadn’t followed or something. “I thought it was just me being paranoid.”
I bit out a laugh. “Not at all. I couldn’t laugh that sexy over and over if I tried. And, really, if you were that funny you’d be doing stand-up.”
“That hurts.” He bopped his fist over his heart, then his voice became deadly serious. “But, she is a problem. I haven’t been able to talk to you because of her.”
He had to be joking. I mean what single, attractive guy, gets annoyed by a beautiful woman showing interest? Like he’d really prefer conversation with me. Not someone who plays the field as much as Chris does. “Why is it a problem? I mean, she’s pretty, and you are . . . um, single.”
Glad I corrected myself. I’d been about to say hot. So insanely hot.
He gave me a strange look, then we stepped aside as a man in a business suit approached, heading for the men’s room. “I have a rule about dating people from work.”
“Why?” Maybe that’s the reason he’d made it clear that tonight was a friend-thing. Not because he didn’t find me dateable, but because he had standards about going out with co-workers.
He gave me a side-glance. “I can’t say.”
“Oh, come on.” I raised my eyebrows. No way he could leave it at that. “Truth or Dare, Chris?”
The corners of his mouth came up. “And what happens in Truth or Dare stays there, right?”
“Exactly.” I bit my lip and kicked my heel against the floor, dying to know what he was keeping from me. “Rule number three.”
“Okay, Truth.” He ran his hands through his hair, took a breath, then his eyes found mine. “There was this girl. From work. She kind of broke my heart.”
My pulse sped up. Broke his heart? That had to mean he’d fallen for her, which didn’t make sense. Or maybe it did. Maybe that’s why he only dated casually. “What happened?”
He shrugged, in a what-can-you-do? way. “She was in love with another guy.”
“Oh, gosh.” Wow. That had to hurt. I couldn’t help wondering if she had been a girl from our office or if it had happened at the place he’d worked before. Poor guy. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Actually . . .” He stroked his chin as if he’d just thought of something. “Maybe you can help. You did want to make up for being late tonight, right?”
“Of course,” I said, still unable to believe he hadn’t freaked over that. “What can I do?”
Pointing back and forth between the two of us, he said, “If Tina thinks that you and I are together, she’d probably back off . . .”
The thought of not hearing that throaty laugh one more time caused a smile to spread across my face and I held my fist out for a bump. “Game on.”
“Thanks, Gina.” Returning my grin, he bounced his fist off mine. “I think we’ll make a great team. I’ll meet you at the table.”
My tummy fluttered at his team comment. Probably just my body’s reaction to being glad I could do him this favor. That’s all. Starting a new job, he really didn’t need distractions with romance at the office. Or potentially getting his heart crushed when it didn’t work out, yet having to see her every day still.
And it wasn’t lost on me that Chris and I wouldn’t be working together anymore. His rule would no longer apply.
CHAPTER FIVE
When I got back to my seat, Tina was animatedly engaged in a conversation with the woman next to her and neither seemed to notice my return. Cynthia smiled up at me, then gave her attention back to her husband and the story he was telling.
Having a minute to myself, I folded my hands and studied the room. Even though I’d felt awkward about my outfit, I was relieved to see other women wearing business clothes as well. Tina, of course, wore a very attractive black cocktail dress that accented her slim figure. Whatever. So my pants suit fit a bit more snug than when I bought it. It’s not like the button at the waist was popping. Much.
The waiter set our plates down at the same time Chris returned to his chair.
Tina immediately twisted in her seat. “Chris, a handful of us are going for drinks tomorrow night at this great Irish pub. We’d love it if you joined us.”
Was it my imagination or had she said you in very singular way?
He cleared his throat. “Thanks for the i
nvitation, but—”
“We’d love to.” I put my arm around Chris, my fingernails grazing the back of his neck and I swear he shivered. “Sweetie, I’d love to spend time with the people you’ll be working with.”
Ms. H.R. seemed surprised at my response as if she’d concluded (rightfully) that Chris and I were just friends. Ha.
He twisted toward me, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “If you’re up for it, then absolutely.”
“Thanks.” Electric sparks darted through my fingertips each time our skin touched as I played with the back of his hair—which was heavenly soft. Thinking I was on a roll, I laughed my throatiest laugh but ended up coughing. Not my finest moment. Yeah, this would be a good time to dig into the salad our waiter had set down.
Chris exchanged a few more words with Ms. H.R., who I’m happy to say neglected to flirt this time, then he turned to me with his eyes were dancing. “You’re the best.”
“I know.” I smiled back, glad I hadn’t bowed out after all. Especially when Chris slipped some chocolate covered raisins onto my dessert plate. Yum.
The rest of the evening went smoothly. Everyone welcomed Chris and seemed genuinely happy that he’d be working with them. And the boss’s wife, Cynthia, adored me. She even invited us to go sailing with them this weekend, but I regretfully declined because of Ellen’s wedding.
When Chris walked me to my door and gave me a hug that sent shivers to parts of me I didn’t know existed, I had to resist inviting him in for, um, coffee. Remembering my vow to only date men who wanted commitment, I pulled away first and stepped back. He told me he’d pick me up at eight tomorrow night for drinks and I reassured him I’d be ready this time.
I closed the door, hurried to the wooden blinds, and peeked through the slats to watch him drive away. What started as a disaster had turned into a fun night. I dropped onto the couch and fantasized about tomorrow night when I’d play couple with Chris in front of Ms. H.R. again.
That’s when the bomb dropped in my stomach.
Ethan. Dinner. Tomorrow night.
