Suspended within was an ethereal, frothy concoction of a dress. If I called it plain green, I would be lying, as its shades changed, from dark forest to a pale fern, with each fold and crease of the fabric.
“Ombré chiffon,” Mindy surveyed with admiring, experienced eyes. “What an exquisite silhouette!”
Everyone murmured in agreement. Even on the hanger, you could tell it was designed to beautifully drape, crisscrossing in several ways to nip at the waist. It had a boldly cut v-neckline, but there was a crystal beaded bodice inset to fill out and flatter the plunge.
“You like it?” Adrian asked. “My housekeeper made it.”
My jaw unhinged at the notion of sweet Ana laboring over what looked like a couture gown. “But . . . when . . . and how . . . and . . . ?”
Adrian chuckled, scratching modestly at his goatee. “The story starts with Natalie, actually. And September 11th. I never told you this, but she came to live here a few years back, and to attend FIT.” Adrian’s eyes clouded a bit as he brought up his only daughter. “Which was beyond huge, for her to want to come, and for her mother to let her. But then 9/11 happened, and yeah . . . she didn’t want to stay after that.”
My face fell in sympathy for him. He scrubbed a hand across his face as if to wipe the memory aside. “As soon as flights resumed, Natalie wanted me to take her home. I understood. But I was gutted. We were just starting to get comfortable with each other and I had high hopes. I wish I could have convinced her to stay. But at the time . . . it was all so surreal.” Adrian cleared his throat, noting everyone was hanging on to each word of his story, enraptured. “So . . . about Ana. I came home one day to find her poring over the fashion textbooks Natalie had left behind. She thought I would be angry, since she was supposed to be cleaning the room.” He shook back his shaggy hair and smiled. “I pulled some strings and she enrolled in Natalie’s place that day. It’s taken her a while, with the language barrier and whatnot, but no question: fashion—and talent—has its own voice.”
I was speechless at the notion that Adrian had been an ongoing benefactor to this promising girl’s education, and neither of them had ever said a word to me. “How long has that dress been hanging here? And how on earth would she know my size?”
“Ana just delivered it last night, while we were at the show. She’d been working on it day and night. It was actually part of her final portfolio project, so we’ll have to make sure we get some good pictures.” Adrian winked. “Oh, and Marissa may have helped a little with your measurements.”
“That sneaky bee-ach!” Liz marveled. I smirked; of course Marissa would have. After all, my best friend had accompanied me on every one of my lingerie shopping expeditions since meeting Adrian, so she knew my measurements, right down to my skivvies.
“We need to get this on you.” Mindy took charge. “Shoot, why didn’t we think to have you in a button-down shirt? I don’t want to mess your hair and makeup. Can we cut the shirt?”
“I’d rather you not,” Adrian sputtered. “That tee is valuable vintage—especially now that Jim has joined my band!”
“Yeah.” Kevin rose to back him up. “Like when Jason Newsted left Flotsam and Jetsam to play for Metallica. Think of the provenance! Cutting that shirt would be a sacrilege.”
We paid no mind to their obscure metal references and shooed them out of the room. Liz helped me to carefully peel the T-shirt off; luckily its cotton had been washed soft and its neckline had stretched in Adrian’s fondness of wearing it. Mindy held the gown, and all together, we bound me into it. It contoured my every curve, and I couldn’t stop turning to the left and right in front of Adrian’s full-length mirror. Its bold details and fluid lines elevated it to another level of stunning.
“That bustier really amps up the sex appeal,” Mindy praised. “God, and look at that high slit in the front!”
I had noticed it too, and had sent my usual thanks to the gods above that I had thought to shave my legs that morning.
Liz sighed, fingering the fabric, and I followed suit. No matter how seductive and daring the cut, the lightness and softness of the material made it ultrafeminine and refined. It was perfect in every way. I loved the train, which was long enough to add glamour and sophistication, but not so impractical that I would trip over myself walking in it.
And speaking of walking, a pair of wicked-cool strappy heels completed the look. “No glass slippers for you,” Liz dictated. “Those kick ass and take names. I’m so borrowing them when you are done.”
“And I’ve got the perfect clutch for you to carry,” Mindy said, manipulating buttons on her phone. “I’m texting my hubby to bring it over.”
She pushed my chestnut tresses off my shoulders to play up the flattering straps of the dress, and, after begging forgiveness for her familiarity, pushed my boobs up to defy gravity before adjusting the drape perfectly around the tight, sequined bodice. It was so sparkly; my décolletage really didn’t need any other adornment.
“You ready?”
I nodded, and the men were let back in.
Adrian used no words. He strode right up into my personal space, and grinning, he took my hand and slowly brought it to his lips.
“Do you approve?”
“J’adore.” His gaze lifted to meet mine, and indeed, the rest of the world fell away. “I adore.” Heat began with a prickle at my toes in their sexy shoes, and radiated upward.
Kevin looked around the room, trying to figure out where his sister went. Liz gave him a shove, and his smile finally came down to settle on me.
“Hey, everyone’s giving you stuff, except your flesh and blood. I have something I want to give to you, too.” He turned to the others. “We’ll be down in a minute.”
Adrian gave a nod and herded the women back downstairs.
Kev reached for his wallet—a long leather chain-and-clip affair like bikers wore—and began to rummage inside. “It’d better not be some expired condom from high school,” I warned. My brother was known for crude sentimentality.
“Give me a little credit, sis.” He rolled his eyes under their long lashes, and I had to. After all, he had been a lady killer in high school. I’m sure no condom in his wallet went unused for long.
“Just kidding. But really, you don’t have to give me anything. You cooked all that spectacular food for us.”
“Eh, food gets digested.” His fingers found a small packet of tissue paper, and he flicked it open. “But diamonds? They last forever.”
“Kev!” I peered at the sparkling bounty nestled in his cupped hands. “Those are Mom’s teardrop earrings. How the hell did you get them?”
“Questions, questions. Such a burden.” My brother shook his head.
“And answers are a prison?” I prompted, pinching an earring from his palm and leaning to put it on. His shock was apparent.
“You? Quoting Corroded Corpse lyrics?”
“When in Rome . . .”
“When in Digger Graves’s bedroom,” Kev murmured, lifting a hand for a high five. I scowled at him.
“Come on, Tree. I’m really stoked for you.” His voice softened to a level very un-Kevin-like. “And I’m proud of my big sister today.”
“For what? Going to a gala?” I tilted and secured the second earring.
“Pssh. No. For picking up and moving on. What happened to Pete . . .” he trailed off and chose a safer path, so as not to ruin my makeup or his reputation with tears. “What happened to your family would’ve flattened some people. I thought you were crazy, moving back home. But now I see . . . I see the steps you took, to make sure Abbey had a happy, safe life, and how brave you were. And strong. And I’m glad you not only waited for the right guy to come along, but that you took the leap when you found him.”
He gave me the most careful bear hug, so as not to muss me.
“Thanks, bro. I’m proud of you, too. You’ve do
ne amazingly well for yourself.”
Kev broke away from me and jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. He turned his ankles out in his Doc Martens, and I had a feeling it was confession time. “PDX is getting a little played out.”
“Seriously? But the restaurant—”
“BITE ME is still doing well. But there are new trends taking over the Northwest quadrant. And man, until I woke up in Manhattan . . . I had forgotten how much I loved this city.”
“And . . . ?”
“And Portland chicks are cool, but I missed girls like Liz.” I raised my brows higher, and he surrendered. “All right, all right. I missed Liz. Okay?”
I nodded. “She’s all kinds of awesome, isn’t she?”
“She’s . . .” Kev rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “She’s a hell-raiser and a godsend.” His voice dropped an octave. “I should’ve been worshipping her all along, Tree.”
It was my turn to throw arms around him. “Mi casa es totally su casa, you know that, right?” My parents had bequeathed the house to me, but only because I was geographically present at the time. “The boogeymen room is still intact, and it’s all yours.”
Kevin laughed at the nickname Abbey had given his teenage shrine of a bedroom, with its wall-to-wall metal posters and memorabilia. “It’s not a one-hundred percent done deal, so please don’t say anything to Liz. Or, God forbid, to Mom.” Our mother was going to have a complete conniption if both her children were on the same coast as her. “She left her earrings behind when they were visiting for the Fourth. I’m sure she’d approve of you wearing them tonight. I was instructed to give them to you, since you’d be seeing her soon.”
That was right, Thanksgiving was less than a month away. My parents would meet Adrian for the first time. And he would have his first proper American Thanksgiving that wasn’t served in take-out containers. I couldn’t wait.
But I still had an enchanted evening to get through, first.
We wound slowly down the spiral stairs, and the sight I was met with almost stopped my heart . . . and kicked my ovaries into high gear.
“Nice to meet you, mate,” Adrian was saying to a tall gentleman, who I assumed was Mindy’s husband, in the doorway. “And this must be the wee Liam!” He reached for the baby with zero hesitation and such confidence, that the little boy had no qualms leaving his father’s arms.
“Lars brought over the purse I wanted to lend you,” Mindy said, introducing us, “along with my little teething monster. Thank goodness he’s almost weaned.” She threw her arms protectively over her ample breasts and laughed.
Watching Adrian bounce the baby in his capable arms sent a surge of love through me. I wondered if Natalie was the last baby he had held. Even after two decades, he didn’t seem rusty at all. Abbey hadn’t breastfed in almost four years, but I could practically feel that phantom tingle. The baby gummed at Adrian’s collar, dampening it with drool, but my lover just laughed, and placed a gentle kiss on Liam’s downy blond curls.
A lightning bolt of longing hit me. Could this be in the cards for us, a few years down the line? That was a lot of cart before the horses . . . but not so far outside the realm of possibility.
Liam, the little social butterfly, reached for Liz next.
“Do you want to hold him?” My friend tested Kevin with a golden gleam in her eye.
“Um . . . no thanks. Babies are like that one ingredient I never know what to do with,” my brother admitted, shuffling his feet in his Docs.
“Oh, yes,” Liz cooed. “Like a little kohlrabi.” She cradled Liam’s perfect head.
“We’d better get him down for his nap,” Mindy said, gazing adoringly at her son.
“Oh, before you go . . .” Adrian nipped into the library and emerged again, a few CDs in hand. “Signed copies for your dad, Mindy, and one for you and Lars as well.”
I spied my pocketbook near the door and rummaged through it. “And for Liam,” I said, handing over a third disc. Abbey and I were never without a copy of Songs for Natalie, the album that fate had placed in my hands many months ago. “Perfect lullaby tunes. Thanks for everything, Mindy. And for lending me your evening bag. I will return it, first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Or second. Or third.” Mindy winked, and gestured for Lars to grab her makeup case. “I know how it goes when you have a sitter for the night.” She turned to Adrian and patted his cheek. “Let me know when you book your world tour, Stud. I’ll come in and water your plants while you’re gone.”
World tour?
My feel-good fullness was robbed and replaced by a barren emptiness.
“We’d better get going, too.” Kev hoisted his bag of catering supplies in one hand, and took Liz’s with the other. She had her bag of hairdressing tools on her shoulder as well. “Leftovers are in the fridge.”
“Have fun, you crazy kids.” Liz blew us a kiss, and as Adrian closed the door behind them, I knew we were once and for all, finally and truly alone. And it was high time we had a serious talk.
***
“Mindy wasn’t serious about a world tour, was she?” I blurted.
“Of course not. You know I have no plants.” He gave a cheeky grin as he checked his watch. “Cripes, we’ll be late for the ball.”
“Adrian . . . I’m serious.”
“I am, too.” His steady gaze into my eyes suggested we’d have all the time in the world to discuss the matter . . . some other time. “I’d better get ready. Give me ten minutes, luv.”
“Ten minutes? Jeez!” And here it had taken all day for me to get presentable. “You’ve got it easy.”
Adrian laughed. “Okay, maybe fifteen, tops. It is a big occasion, after all.”
“And after all this fuss,” I said, unable to bring myself to look him in the eye, “are you going to want to hang around the ordinary, everyday Kat?”
“I’m having trouble hanging around you now, and minding my manners.” He kissed me in every acceptable and available place that hadn’t been primped and pampered. “You are a vision, now . . . and always. There is nothing ordinary about you, Kat Lewis.” I shivered as a kiss landed behind my ear, and then dragged to the nape of my neck. My fingers fell upon his collar, which was still damp from baby Liam’s affections, and I felt tears prick behind my eyes.
Let’s not think about tomorrow, I heard his voice tell Abbey earlier.
Adrian was stalling both of us.
He bolted up the stairs, two at a time. Sighing, I gathered the essentials I’d need for the evening. Mindy’s clutch was indeed perfect for a night out with my British hard rocker: a small black leather hard-shell, with tiny grommets detailing a pattern of the Union Jack. But its best feature was the combination clasp and handle, which looked like a set of brass knuckles, perched right on top. They were adorned with large, blingy diamond-like stones, and skulls with glittering rhinestones for eyes. As I slipped my phone and wallet in, I noticed Mindy had left a little gift of emergency lipstick in there for me.
Upstairs, I made one quick sweep of the bedroom to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Ah, tissues. With my luck, I’d probably get choked up with tears at some point in the evening to come, and would need a few.
“Luck” reminded me of Abbey and her shell. I plucked it from her pillow and studied it. The thought of Rick plying my daughter with such a present got under my skin and irritated me. Was it—and were the gala tickets—just some consolation prize, mementos to remember his bandmate by when he whisked him off on some twenty-date tour? I nestled it into the tissue before popping it in my purse. I planned to confront Rick about it.
And besides, I could use all the luck I could find.
Chelsea sat at the bottom of the spiral stairs she had not yet learned to climb, mewing hunger. I scooped her up and got her settled in her cage in the library, complete with fresh, dry food and her litter box. She kneaded happily at
her little bed with tiny paws as she made herself at home.
I guess I should be doing the same, I thought, glancing around. I hadn’t been in the room of floor-to-ceiling bookcases in a while. Impulsively, or perhaps compulsively, I searched the shelf for the last reading material I had perused, and there it was. On the same shelf, as if it hadn’t been touched since.
And maybe it hadn’t.
I pulled Alexander Floyd’s Godforsaken biography out, flicking on a brass table lamp as I passed it, and settled carefully in my dress on one of the brown leather couches.
If I was to see Rick tonight at the gala, I wanted to be a bit more prepared with my secondary sources. Adrian’s stories, as intimate as they were in their details, may not have been the most objective, understandably.
“Ach, Kat. Really?” I glanced up to find Adrian hovering in the doorway. “My word isn’t good enough for you?”
Everything about Adrian was good enough for me. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe how he looked, dressed for the gala. His tuxedo was all crisp lines, and contoured his lithe body like only a custom-fit could. I loved that he had accented it with tousled locks and a touch of scruff.
“Of course it is. But pictures are worth words as well, no?”
Adrian couldn’t suppress his smile. “If we’re talking blackmail, some of those pictures are priceless.” He shook out his sleeve and checked his watch. “We’ve got a half hour to kill. I could think of worse ways to spend it.”
“Or better,” I laughed as he collapsed onto the couch next to me. “But since we are all dressed up with somewhere to go . . .”
***
Our knees became a book rest as I propped it open. “I want to get to know Rick a little better.”
“Well. I knew Rick, pre-Simone,” Adrian said, licking a thumb and pushing past the first few pages. “And then of course, there was the Simone phase itself. But I’m afraid I know about as little as you in terms of post-Simone Rick.”
The band’s wantonly public mouthpiece had become intensively private since sequestering his family in Hawaii. Rick had been harder to track down than Adrian, and with good reason. Caregiver to his wife as cancer quickly claimed her, then sole parent to three teen boys, were not exactly roles in keeping with the singer’s once infamous persona. Had performing last night been a mindless flick of the switch for Rick? He’d made shifting gears after so many years look effortless.
Deeper Than Dreams Page 5
