by Melody Grace
“Whoa, there.” Riley looked bashful. “I haven’t asked her yet. And she hasn’t said yes.”
“But she will,” Eliza beamed. She’d had her doubts about Riley in the beginning—and with his playboy reputation, who wouldn’t?—but he and Brooke had turned out to be the perfect fit. They were crazy about each other, and Eliza knew that taking the next step in their relationship had always been just a question of when, not if.
And when, it seemed, was now.
“Let’s go inside,” Riley said, glancing nervously around. “I don’t want anyone to ruin the surprise.”
Eliza was about to tease him for being paranoid when she caught a glimpse of Aunt June at the other end of the street. “Quick!” She yanked him through the door and ducked out of sight, before Riley’s shopping expedition could wind up front-page news.
Inside, the store clerk greeted Riley like an old friend. “You’ve been here before?” Eliza asked.
“I narrowed it down to a few choices,” Riley said. He pushed back his messy blonde hair, looking more excited now. “I have one that I like best, but wanted a second opinion. This is the ring she’s going to be wearing for the rest of her life, after all. Unless I screw things up,” he added with a grin.
“Hey, stop that.” Eliza hit him lightly. “Nobody’s messing anything up. Besides, you think Brooke would let you?”
“Good point,” he chuckled.
The clerk brought out a tray with three rings displayed. “What do you think?” Riley asked, nudging it closer.
Eliza leaned in. They were all beautiful choices, but one leapt out at her as being exactly Brooke’s style. “This one,” she said immediately, pointing to a simple platinum band with a princess cut diamond. “It’s classic, elegant . . . perfectly Brooke.”
Riley grinned wider. “That’s my pick, too. I just wanted to be sure.”
“She’s going to love it.” Eliza hugged him. “But you better do it soon. I don’t know if I can keep the secret for long!”
Riley laughed. “I’ve got it all planned out, next weekend,” he confided. “I’m taking her out on the boat for a sunset cruise. It was how we spent one of our first dates. Back when we were pretending to be just friends,” he added, smiling.
“I remember,” Eliza laughed. “And I also remember telling her to just go for it. So, you can thank me.”
“Thanks.” Riley grinned. “I know it’s a cliché, but, she makes everything better, you know? I feel more like myself—my best self—just being with her.”
Eliza felt a pang. “Didn’t you worry though, starting out, that you guys were just too different?”
Something must have given her away in her tone, because Riley gave her a sideways look. “Me and Brooke, or you and Cal?”
“Both. Neither. I don’t know.” Eliza let out a sigh. “It’s just . . . One minute, I feel like I can let my guard down with him and put it all out there. That we’re connecting, for real. But then I remember who he is and where he comes from, and I wonder how we could ever make it work.”
Riley turned, frowning. “Is this coming from him? Because if he’s said anything to make you feel like you’re not good enough—”
“No,” Eliza stopped him quickly. “It’s not about him. This is just my stuff.”
“OK.” Riley seemed to relax. “Because you say the word, and me and Grayson can pay him a visit.”
Eliza couldn’t help but smile. “Oh yeah? What are you two going to do, threaten to hack his computer and take his bookshop privileges away?”
“We’ll take care of things.” Riley gave her a nod. “Besides, you already told me where to hide the body.”
Eliza laughed. “Easy now. Anyway, like I said, it’s not his fault. I’m the one who doesn’t fit in with the whole society thing.”
“Bullshit,” Riley said firmly. Then he paused.
“What?” Eliza prodded.
“Look, I don’t have anything against the guy, he seems nice enough,” he started, looking reluctant. “But if being with him makes you feel this way, then maybe he’s not the right guy for you.” Riley shrugged. “You deserve someone who makes you feel amazing, just being yourself. Not like you don’t measure up, or that you need to be careful, in case you get hurt. Before Brooke, I was with someone, and it felt like putting on a show,” he added. “You know, like I had to be on my best behavior, living up to the man I thought she wanted. That’s not real. You can’t be with someone, really be with them, if you’re pretending to be something you’re not.”
His words struck Eliza, too close to home.
She swallowed. “I know,” she said quietly, and Riley gave her a hug.
“But I’m not worried about you.”
“You’re not?” she asked.
Riley chuckled. “You’ll be fine. If anyone knows who they are, it’s you.”
Eliza looked at him and felt something snap back into place.
He was right. She’d always known exactly who she was—and been proud of it, too. Something about being with Cal had shifted her center of gravity. No, she’d let it shift. But that wasn’t her, and it wasn’t how she could live her life.
Bending over backwards to try to fit into Cal’s world would never work. Either she did this her way, or it wasn’t worth doing.
“Thank you,” Eliza said gratefully. “Is it OK if I take off? There’s something I need to do.”
“Of course. Thanks for the help,” Riley said.
“Brooke’s going to love the ring!” Eliza ducked out of the store and walked determinedly back the way she’d come. All this second-guessing and insecurity had nothing to do with Cal himself. He thought she was perfect, even when she was showing up to fancy places in jeans and a worn-out shirt.
Well, she could do a little better than that this time.
Eliza opened the door to the clothing boutique.
“Can I help you?” The clerk looked up and recognized Eliza. “Oh, hi. Did you forget something before?”
“Yup.” Eliza deposited her bag on the counter with a thud. “I need to make an exchange.”
18
I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Eliza glanced over from the passenger seat. The day of the gala had arrived, and Cal was driving them into the city, his backseat full of garment bags, shoe boxes, and the weekender tote of beauty essentials she had packed to get ready.
“Let me guess,” she said, trying to ignore the tangle of nerves forming in her stomach. “We’re going to bail on the gala, and drive to Mexico instead. Just you, me, a beach, and two of those drinks with little umbrellas in them?”
Cal chuckled. “Close. No, I booked us into a hotel for the night. I have to be there early to make sure everything’s running smoothly. I figured you could relax and get ready in style.”
“That’s sweet, thank you,” Eliza said, even though secretly, she would have preferred the grand escape. “But are you sure it’s not just an elaborate plot to stop me from seeing your apartment? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re keeping me away from it. What’s the big secret,” she teased, “notches on your bedpost? Lime-green bedsheets? Or is it a frat-house den of debauchery?”
“None of the above.” Cal flashed a grin as they reached the downtown core. “OK, so maybe my housekeeper is on vacation this week.”
“I knew it!” Eliza smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to settle for room service and pay TV. You think they’ll have a steam iron, so I can shake out my dress?”
Cal looked amused. “I think they’ll find one for you.”
When he pulled over, Eliza discovered why. “The Drake,” she said, swallowing. The fanciest, most luxurious hotel in the city.
“Of course. It’s my favorite spot to stay in town.”
The valet opened the car door for her, and when she reached to help with the bags, he shooed her away. “I have this, ma’am.”
“We’re in the Prescott suite,” Cal said, slipping him a folded bill. “Please be careful with t
he garment bags.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eliza blinked. “You have a suite named after you?”
Cal gave her a grin. “Long story, but it involves my great-grandfather, a poker game, and shares in the East India Company.”
“Of course it does,” Eliza said faintly. Something told her she was going to have to get used to stories like that, especially if she was going to make it through the night.
She followed Cal inside the opulent lobby and up to the penthouse suite. There was a sitting room, bedroom, and library space, all with stunning views of the city. “Think you’ll manage here?” Cal asked, looking around.
“I’ll be brave and try. This place is gorgeous.” Eliza placed her handbag on the coffee table, where it looked very small surrounded by the swathes of antique rugs, plush upholstery, and glittering chandeliers. “What do you say we give that king-sized bed a test run?” she beckoned, flirtatious, and Cal smiled, sweeping her up in his arms and depositing her on the mattress with a bounce.
Eliza kissed him, loving the kick of adrenaline in her veins and the way her body seemed to arch to him of its own accord. But Cal only kissed her for a moment before sitting up and straightening his shirt. “I wish I could stay,” he said, looking reluctant. “But I’ve been fielding calls from the event planner all day. I better get over there.”
“OK.” Eliza hid her disappointment and tugged him down for one last kiss. “But this bed is getting a workout, so don’t make me have to use it as a trampoline.”
Cal grinned. “After the gala is done, we won’t get out of it all weekend,” he promised. “They’ll just wheel room service right in.”
“Now you’re talking.”
Cal got up and grabbed the garment bag with his tux. “I’ll call when I’m on my way over. We’ll have fun tonight, I promise.”
“Go.” Eliza flopped back into the impossibly soft pillows. “Be a titan of industry. I’ll be here, raiding the minibar.”
“Go crazy,” Cal said with a grin, and then he left her, the door to the suite clicking shut behind him.
Eliza exhaled, gazing up at the brocade canopy on the four-poster bed. She felt her nerves creeping again about tonight, so she leapt up and went to explore. There was a complimentary iPod docked in the living room, so she set it to blast some upbeat rock, and set about discovering exactly what kind of perks the Prescott name provided.
The answer was, a lot.
She toured the suite, inhaling the scent of the fresh-cut roses on every surface, and sampling the chocolates displayed on a silver platter. There was fresh fruit and finger sandwiches, and a thick card propped against a bottle of wine. “With compliments of the Drake,” she read aloud. “Best wishes, as always, from your home away from home.”
Maybe she could get used to this.
“You will not believe this place,” she said, calling Paige from the marbled bathroom. “The tub is like a lap pool, with views all the way to the river.”
“Fancy,” her sister laughed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come tonight?” Eliza checked. “Cal said he could get an extra ticket.”
“And play third wheel? No thanks.”
“More like wing-woman,” Eliza argued. “I feel like I’m going to need backup walking in there alone.”
“You won’t be alone,” Paige reminded her. “You have Cal. Anyway, I can’t, I have a blind date tonight.”
“Ooh, with who?” Eliza perked up. She started running water into the tub and selected a whole bottle of rose-scented oils to fill the room with bubbles.
“My co-worker’s cousin just moved to town, and she thinks we’ll hit it off.” Paige sounded uncertain. “We’re having dinner, then going to an art exhibit I want to see.”
“That could be fun,” Eliza said encouragingly. She knew Paige hadn’t been dating since her breakup, so it was good she was finally getting back out there again. “Maybe he’ll sweep you off your feet.”
“Maybe,” Paige agreed, but she didn’t seem convinced. “Anyway, how about brunch tomorrow? Bring Cal. I need to actually meet the guy properly, if this is serious. Is it?” she asked.
Eliza found herself smiling. “It is. OK, brunch then. And have fun tonight!”
“You too.”
Eliza rang off. She brought in the champagne and chocolates, setting them on a little stool by the tub, then stripped off and slipped into the hot, steamy water.
Ahhh . . .
She sank back, looking out at the city, and tried to feel calm. She was nervous about tonight, but excited, too, a flutter of delicious anticipation dancing in her stomach. Meeting all of Cal’s friends and family was already intimidating, and tonight, the stakes seemed even higher: making their debut as a couple to all of Boston’s social elite.
Eliza wondered, did Cal know that kind of pressure was enough to make her break out in hives? There was nobody else she would do it for, but when Cal had asked, she had barely hesitated.
This was for real. She wanted to be there for him, support him—and then drag him back to this hotel room and spend the weekend barely coming up for air.
She flushed, just imagining the things they could do in this bathtub . . . But more than that, she wanted to curl up beside him at night and wake up with him to do it all over again.
This was the real thing.
Eliza inhaled in a rush. It was a quiet voice, steady and calm, but she still wasn’t ready to listen to it just yet. It felt too soon, too precarious, to be feeling this way.
One day—and night—at a time.
She got out of the tub and toweled off, wrapping herself in an illegally fluffy robe. She went to get her things to start getting ready—
Her dress!
Eliza’s heart stopped. No, no, no! She searched frantically through the bags, even checking the closet in case the bellhop had hung it up, but there was no sign of it. Had Cal taken the wrong bag with him?
The doorbell sounded. Eliza flung it open, flustered, to find a uniformed butler—with her dress bag cradled in his arms. “I took the liberty of taking it to be steamed,” he informed her. “Is there anything else you’ll be needing?”
Eliza exhaled in a whoosh. “Oh, thank God. I was having a serious meltdown,” she said, grabbing it from him.
“I can send a doctor to prescribe some Xanax, if you wish.”
Eliza had to search his face to see if he was even joking. His lip twitched in a smile. “Oh. No, thanks.” She laughed.
“Very well.” The butler leaned in with a wink. “I find a glass of the ’58 Chateau works nearly as well.”
“Good tip.”
Eliza closed the door and sank back, her heart still racing. Maybe she would open that bottle.
* * *
Two hours later, Eliza was dressed, styled, spritzed, and perched on the couch, trying not to wrinkle her dress while she watched old Housewives reruns and waited for Cal to come pick her up.
And waited. And waited.
At half past seven, her phone finally rang. “I’m sorry,” Cal said, sounding apologetic. “I totally lost track of time. People have already started arriving, and I need to be here to greet them.”
“Oh.” Eliza’s heart sank. “No, I understand.”
“Jump in a cab, and I’ll meet you here,” Cal told her. “Just look for the guy in a tux trying to keep the wheels from falling off.”
“You’ve got this,” Eliza reassured him. “I’ll be right there.”
She hung up and collected her purse: a small, jeweled clutch that, sure enough, Brooke had managed to save from the hotel lost-and-found. Eliza hoped that the real owner didn’t mind her borrowing it for the night, even though she felt reckless trading her usual messenger bag for a tiny square that barely held lipstick and a breath mint. She gave herself a final look in the mirror and smiled. Her friends had been right: the red dress was stunning, and she felt ready for battle in the brilliant silk armor.
She pulled on her coat, headed downstairs
, and caught a cab to the gala venue for the night, the grand Public Library building in Copley Square. She’d loved to visit the grand, Renaissance-style building when she was a kid, but she’d never seen it look like this: spotlights illuminating the impressive frontage, with a red carpet leading up the front steps, and press and photographers lined up in front, their cameras flashing at the procession of guests in gowns and tuxedos making their way inside.
Eliza took a breath, steeling herself, then joined the line. Security kept careful watch at the doors, and a brisk-looking woman in black approached her with a clipboard, wearing a headset and a stern expression. “Name?”
“Eliza Bennett,” she said.
The woman scanned her list. “Bennett with a B?” she asked.
“Is there any other way?” Eliza cracked, but her joke fell flat.
“I’m sorry, I don’t see you. Do you have the invitation?”
“No, sorry,” Eliza said. “I’m supposed to meet Cal here. Calvin Prescott,” she added. “He’s the one hosting this whole event.”
“I know who he is, but I don’t see you on the list,” the woman repeated. “I’m sorry, could you move aside? People are trying to get through. Welcome, names?” she said, already stepping around Eliza.
Eliza fumbled with her clutch and pulled out her cellphone. It rang and rang, but Cal didn’t pick up. He was probably busy inside—with the guests who weren’t being turned away at the door. Perfect.
“Excuse me.” Eliza tapped the door-woman on the shoulder. “Hi, sorry, but if you can’t let me in, then I need you to go find Mr. Prescott. He’ll vouch for me.”
“I’m a little busy right now.” The woman glared.
Eliza held her ground. “Then I’m sure you can find someone else.”
“You need to move aside.” The woman looked around, then beckoned to security. “People need to get past.”
Eliza was just about ready to roll up her coat sleeves and throw down when a voice came from behind her on the red carpet.
“Eliza?”
