by Kris Jayne
“You didn’t have to make breakfast.” Shannon stepped softly across the kitchen behind Olivia as if sneaking into the family scene.
“I know. I just felt like it. I thought waffles sounded like a good idea.”
Taryn jumped up. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Shannon replied, sliding into a chair next to Olivia. A spike of caffeine would help her get through breakfast.
She liked Jeff. Shannon thanked God every day that of all the guys she’d hooked up with as a young adult, she’d only had a child with him. Shannon was also grateful Olivia had Taryn as a stepmother. Jeff’s new wife had been more active in Olivia’s conscious life than Shannon at this point.
As much as she appreciated them, their domestic life contrasted with her own constantly pointed to what Shannon lacked. A real home. Family. Security. I’m working on it, she reminded herself. At only thirty-two years old, Shannon had plenty of time to create the life she wanted.
She turned to focus on her daughter, tired of the distraction presented by her self-pity. She’d spent too much of her life comparing herself to others and finding ways to prove she didn’t belong. Enough.
“Do you need any help?” Shannon offered.
“Nope. It’s actually time to eat. Y’all grab a plate. Eggs and bacon are on the stove. The first waffle is hot off the press,” Jeff announced.
Shannon helped Olivia get her plate of food, and the adults let her have the first waffle. Taryn set a cup of hot coffee at Shannon’s spot.
“We should do this again next week with pancakes,” Olivia decided.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Shannon said. “I have a thing next Saturday night. So I’ll see you on Saturday, but I can’t stay over next weekend.”
“Are you working?” Jeff asked.
“No,” Shannon hesitated. “I was invited out by a friend.”
“Oh.” He followed his exclamation with curious silence.
“Have you met someone?” Taryn asked with an eye on Olivia, who couldn’t care less about their conversation since she had a mouth full of buttered and syruped waffle.
“Yeah. He’s a customer at work, but you know him. He was here at your Labor Day party. We started talking. His name’s Jonah Moran,” Shannon informed them.
Taryn nearly spit her coffee across the speckled cream granite countertop in front of her. Instead, she choked and started coughing.
“Jonah, huh,” Jeff mused. “I don’t know him that well. I met him through Nick. Nick was engaged to his sister.”
“He mentioned that, and then she came out.”
“Yeah. That’s pretty much why it didn’t last,” Taryn interjected.
“So you’ve met his family, then?” Jeff tossed her another look of surprise and curiosity.
“Just Vivienne. Remember when I said I’d started a second job one day a week? I’m working at Vivienne’s design studio on Wednesdays. I’m not designing or anything. It’s kind of an internship, sort of. Anyway, I’ll meet his parents next weekend at the Magnolia ball. That’s what I have on Saturday night.”
“The Magnolia Society Ball? We thought about going. Jeff refused,” Taryn complained.
“I don’t mind giving to charity, but some of these events are more about society people one-upping each other than helping the community.”
“I think they raise a lot of money for local homeless shelters,” Taryn countered.
“I’d rather spend an evening getting a root canal. We donated money though. And you might have a good time, Shannon.”
She couldn’t decide whether to take the doubt in his voice personally.
“Jonah didn’t sound so excited either, but he asked me to go with him. I’m curious to meet his parents.”
“Oh, God. Those are not nice people. Know that going in, Shannon,” Taryn groaned.
“Everyone keeps saying that. Even Jonah and Vivienne. They can’t be that bad,” Shannon insisted.
Jeff and Taryn looked at each other and didn’t say anything.
“How bad can they be?”
“Look. Jonah is a nice guy. He saved me and Micky from a bunch of trouble last year—trouble started by his greedy, manipulative father. But he saved us by basically blackmailing his dad about something. No clue what. Jonah can deal just as dirty when he wants to,” Taryn declared.
“But he helped you?” Shannon pressed.
“He did. And he’s not a bad guy, I don’t think,” Jeff added.
“Maybe not,” Taryn conceded. “Of course, I’m glad that he did what he did, but still, it takes a certain kind of person to pull that on a family member.”
“Their family isn’t like our family,” Jeff noted.
“Exactly,” Taryn retorted. “They play by their own rules.”
“Well, Jonah has been good to me, and we all know he’s better than the last guy I dated. He couldn’t be much worse,” Shannon grumbled wryly.
“True. But be careful, Shannon. People who live in that stratosphere of society can be vicious,” Taryn warned.
“People everywhere can be vicious. I’m stronger than I look.” Shannon extended her plate so Jeff could top it with a fresh waffle. Forewarned was forearmed, she guessed. She’d make sure she had herself ready.
Chapter Seventeen
Holding Jonah’s hand kept hers from shaking as Shannon walked into the chic dress boutique. Warm light settled on clean, sparse racks of clothing—a far cry from the cold, white light and jammed sale racks of the discount stores Shannon usually frequented.
Finding something appropriate that she could even afford to split with Jonah might be a challenge. She set a two hundred dollar limit for herself and hoped she hadn’t underestimated.
Looking online, she’d seen several dresses for less than three hundred that she thought might work. They didn’t feature the same splash as the more expensive gowns, but simplicity might suit her better than anything too flashy.
Shannon had, of course, never been dress shopping with a man before. Would he be sitting there watching her undress? The thought made her shoulders stiffen.
“Are you coming into the dressing room with me?”
Jonah grinned. “I’d love to, but I think no. I’ll be sitting outside. We are in a private area, though.”
“Good.”
“I can’t believe you don’t want me sitting there staring at you half-naked. So disappointing.”
Shannon flushed and smacked him on the elbow.
They strolled through the store and to the back toward the formal gowns, a slim woman approached them with her long, slick obsidian hair whipping behind her. Thick black lashes and cat’s eye makeup accentuated the tilt of her eyes. Her boysenberry lips popped against her flawless skin, the color of peeled ginger.
“Jonah, how are you?” She took his hand between her palms and air-kissed him in direction of each cheek.
“Hello, Lynn. This is Shannon.” Jonah put his arm around her, letting his hand rest on Shannon’s hip.
Lynn looked from Jonah to Shannon, cocking her head to the side for impassive, but not quite unfriendly assessment.
“I guessed that. She’s just as you described her.”
Jonah eyed Shannon. “I wanted her to know what you looked like so she could pull some looks for you in advance.”
The woman suddenly broke into a berry-rimmed smile. “I think I’ve done a good job of that, if I do say so myself. Come this way. I have a room blocked for you.”
Shannon and Jonah fell into step behind her to a private area beyond the regular dressing rooms. The saleswoman unlocked a door and ushered them into a plush room with a couple of high-backed armchairs and a table with chilled Pellegrino and Coca-Cola with a dish of sliced limes. A heavy, burgundy curtain draped open to reveal a small platform and a triple mirror.
Lynn pointed to the chair with the same wide smile.
“You go there, Jonah. Shannon and I will get started.”
Shannon followed Jonah’s lead and let
Lynn take control of the appointment. First, Lynn got her shoe size and told her she’d bring some different styles for her to try on with the gowns. Then, they flipped through a long rack against the wall to select the few dresses to try on first.
“Let’s start with this blue silk organza. I think a navy blue would be crazy great with your baby blue eyes. And you have beautiful skin. Oh, and I have another that I didn’t pull but you should definitely try on.”
Shannon subtly slid her fingers into the back of each gown, hoping to hook a price tag and know what she was in for. Unfortunately, none of the gowns had prices. She wanted to go with the flow and not mention the greenback elephant in the room, but her wallet shouted at her to speak up.
“I don’t know if Jonah mentioned this to you, but I have a budget. I don’t want to be like one of those women on ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ who try on something outside their price range and then spend the rest of the day crying.” Shannon infused her tone with as much humor as she could muster.
“He did. We’re good,” Lynn assured her, glancing at Jonah. Shannon looked at the flowy layers of organza in dress number one and bit her lip.
“Okay.”
“Perfect. I’ll let you get started and check on you in a minute. If you need anything, grab me. I put some different bras and undergarments in the dressing room so you can get the dresses fitted properly. He doesn’t need to see that magic happen, right?”
Shannon went into the dressing room with two options and pulled the thick, velvet curtain shut. The blue organza had no straps and curled strips of small beads and sequins clustered at the neckline and the along the hem. Thinner trails of embellishment flowed down the length of the A-line dress.
Shannon turned in the mirror a few times.
The gown gaped at the back a little, and she knew from attending bridal fittings with Taryn and Olivia that they could clip that back so she could see what it looked like fitted. The material felt sumptuous, and the dress light and airy. However, somehow, she didn’t love it.
“Do I get to see?” Jonah’s voice rumbled from the other side of the curtain.
“Yes.”
Shannon stepped out and turned once for him.
“You don’t like it.”
“It’s a beautiful gown, and don’t try to tell me that it’s under four hundred dollars. This must cost a fortune.”
“But you don’t like it.”
“The color does look good on me.”
“You don’t have to convince me. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it.”
Jonah laughed. “That’s why we’re here. Try something else.”
Shannon went through the other two gowns—neither of which she liked any better. In the meantime, Lynn brought her shoes and another navy gown, sleeker and more heavily beaded. The neckline plunged into a deep V, making Shannon nervous.
“Try this next. Trust me.”
Shannon did as the resolute saleswoman said and took it into the dressing room. She peeled off the last unsuccessful dress and pulled on the beaded one.
Holy smoke. It was perfect.
She slipped her feet into a high-heeled satin sandal to get the full effect. The chevron pattern in varying shades of silver metallic and shining blue beads cut diagonally across the bias-cut skirt. The beading dissolved into a scatter of sparkles on the pool of silk at her feet. The weight of the embellishment caused the dress to drape closely, but tastefully, to the curves of her hips.
Shannon turned to see the back view. The gown fell to her feet, cupping her backside and swinging around her legs with a slight train. She sighed and forced herself not to think about the cost. Jonah and Lynn clearly plotted against her to disregard her budget. Shannon wanted to be pissed off. She was angry, but she had never felt more elegant.
“Fashion show. Fashion show.” Jonah’s chants floated toward her.
She peered from behind the curtain with a small smile. He broke into a grin.
“Let me see already.”
“You’ll have to finish zipping me up. I couldn’t reach.” She strode toward him and then presented him with her open zipper. His fingers grazed her back. She could feel his breath on her neck. She turned around.
“I’ll have to get a proper bra. The neckline dipped too low for the ones I had in there, so I’m going braless.”
“I noticed.” The darkened pewter of his eyes matched the dress. Jonah ran a thumb over her collarbone toward the divot at her throat and then down between her breasts.
Shannon’s breathing stopped as Jonah pushed the spirals of her hair aside and kissed the side of her neck. He nibbled at her. Shannon exhaled in a rush.
“Lynn will be back in here in a minute.”
“Not if I don’t want her to.”
Shannon pushed Jonah back.
“I’m not going to have sex with you in the store,” she huffed.
“You sure?” He slipped his hand between the beaded material and her heated skin, closing on her bare breast. She jumped back, nearly tripping over the bottom of the gown.
“Jonah. I’m not for sale.”
He grimaced. “I don’t think you are.”
“Are you sure? You bring me to this shop where everything is outside the price range I gave you. You have me parade in front of you in dress after dress. Now, you’re trying to fuck me in public.”
“I’m playing around with you. I thought you liked it.”
“I don’t.” Shannon felt herself close to tears and took a deep breath. She would not fuck in public, and she would not cry in public. “I’m not some trashy girl ready to jump on your cock at a moment’s notice no matter where we are.”
“When did I ever say that you were? Am I supposed to apologize for finding you damned sexy in a slinky dress? I’m a man, Shannon. You turn me on, and I like you. I like your fire. I like your sweetness.” Jonah sighed. “It never occurred to me that you would think anything different.”
He stepped back, a grim look on his face.
“I don’t mean to be difficult, Jonah, but all of this is freaking me out.”
“If you don’t want the dress, we won’t get it. We can find something else.”
“This isn’t about the dress.”
“I know. But I’m offering to go somewhere else. We can hit the reset button on this whole thing. Alright? I’m sorry. I can get carried away. I wanted this to be fun for you.”
“It was.” Shannon paused. “It is. I just—I don’t know what to say. I don’t want you to feel bad. I do love the dress.”
Shannon managed a smile, and Jonah took her hand and kissed it.
“I’d like to buy it for you. Not because I think you’re for sale or because I’m trying to control you. I know you love it. I could see it from the moment you peaked at me before you came out. You love it. I can afford it. I don’t see this as a big deal, but I can tell that you do.”
Her emotions ran in two directions at once. She couldn’t let him buy it. She couldn’t tell him no. He dropped her hand and turned toward the door.
“Jonah, wait.”
“What?”
“I can’t make a decision until I try it on with the right bra. Can you have Lynn bring me something?”
His eyes lit up. “I can.”
Shannon went back into the dressing room and examined her mirror image. She looked damn good—even if she felt uncertain.
Chapter Eighteen
The argument with Shannon stayed with Jonah. Somehow, he made her feel cheap while dropping ten grand on a dress. The thought disturbed him. He only wanted to make her feel beautiful.
He thought about the pride she had in her tiny apartment. Why? She finally had a nice place of her own. She’d earned it. He should be able to understand what it was like to feel dependent. The scenario was different, but the situation was the same. Or nearly the same. Jonah still had never earned a dime that his father did not give him.
I work, he reminded himself. His o
ffice phone rang, and he thought about ignoring it. Jonah glanced around at the sleek, modern office his sister had designed for him. He worked, but none of it was his. Even after Tom Moran was long gone, this place, Jonah thought, would always be his father’s. The phone rang again.
“Hello?”
“Jonah, your father wants to know if they should drop by to pick you up in the limo on Saturday.”
His father’s secretary handled all of these details flawlessly.
“No. I’ll drive myself. I have to pick up my date.”
“Very well. Let us know if you change your mind.”
Jonah hung up and focused back on the document in front of him. His father had commissioned a study on Jonah’s chances of election to the House of Representatives. A consultant examined the politics of the gerrymandered district where he lived as well as Jonah’s personal assets and liabilities.
“The campaign would have to spin Jonah’s rakish reputation. He’s rarely seen with the same woman for more than two months at a time and interviews with several of his ex-girlfriends reveal some ill feeling. Having a steady female presence in his life—or better a wife—prior to announcing his bid would ameliorate public impression. Women scorned come across as bitter when the man in question has settled down with an appropriate companion.”
Consultants. Nothing but shit shovelers. What did they expect him to do? Run down to the Junior League and drag some poor girl out by the hair?
“You see, I’m in need of an appropriate companion,” he could tell them.
He threw the report across his desk and let his mind wander back to Shannon. Consultants probably wouldn’t deem her appropriate, but they wouldn’t see the stubborn tilt to her chin when she spoke up for herself. They’d miss the broad streak of decency and pride in her. What more appropriate political wife than one who could empathize with the everyday struggles most people faced?
Jonah might not even run for office. He said as much, but his parents didn’t listen. Maybe a shocking scandal would render him unelectable and settle the issue for good.
* * *
