by Robyn Neeley
Blake continued, “You seem fun. And, I would know why you’re there . . . no need to second guess your motivation.”
She didn’t remember walking back to her chair and sitting, but suddenly she was picking up her glass of wine. She appreciated his logic. “So you’d like me, a total stranger, to go with you to your functions? I could be bat crazy for all you know.”
“Nah, I’m a good judge of character.” He shook his head and took a drink while eyeing her.
“And for going to a couple of events, you’ll make sure my loan goes through?”
“Yup.”
Halle eyed him. “You have the power to do that? You’re not like a second cousin twice removed or anything like that?”
“Nope. Grandson of the founder of the family businesses. Direct line.”
How bad could it hurt? The food was always great at these things.
“Alright.” She waved a hand toward him and let it fall hard on her thigh. “I’m in.” What the heck? She’d done more impulsive things in her life.
“Perfect.” He retrieved his phone. “Let’s look at the calendar and sync our schedules, shall we?”
It was time to stop letting her father call the shots. Now she was going to have the means to do that. Even if she had to go to events she swore off long ago, it was a small price to pay for independence. Will Dad be there? Her heart stopped until she remembered him mentioning that he and his new wife, Leigh, would be gallivanting across Europe for most of December. She stifled a laugh. It would be almost hilarious to run into him at one of these events and be on Blake’s arm. She’d probably witness her dad speechless for the first time in his life.
Her schedule was pitifully empty and she marked every date and time down in her phone calendar. She took care to hide her screen so Blake wouldn’t know just how not in demand she was these days. The first of several events, a banquet for the employees of Ellison-owned businesses, was Friday, just two days away. “How formal is it?” Halle wondered out loud, tapping her finger on her chin. Either way, I’m gonna need some new dresses.
“Pretty formal.” Blake eyed her up and down. “You got something to wear?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“So, we’re agreed, classy?”
“Sir.” She fanned herself, batting her eyelashes. “Your insults abound.”
Blake laughed and Halle shook her head. Of course I’ll keep it classy. Who does he usually take to these things? Halle knew Corrine, her best friend and owner of the dress shop next door, would have just what she needed.
• • •
The next day, Halle bounced over to Dress to Impress where she found Corrine in the back with a needle, thread, and pieces of yellow fabric.
“How’s it going?” Halle asked.
“Just fightin’ with life.” Corrine’s head was down. “Good thing my mama taught me how to sew.”
Halle chuckled as she watched her friend. Streaks of pink contrasted starkly against Corrine’s black locks. “Nice hair.”
Corrine’s head shot up. “You like it? Just got it done last night. The girls at bingo are gonna flip.” She used her free hand to pat her new do. “I love it.”
Halle wasn’t as brave as Corrine even though Halle was twenty years younger. Bravery must come with age. Her own hair had been blonde with blonde highlights for as long as she could remember.
Refocusing on the reason for her visit, Halle headed toward the racks of dresses. “I need a couple of dresses for stuff this month. Can you help me find something?”
“Sure, doll. Have some fancy parties to go to?”
“Well, actually, yes.”
“What?” Corrine’s voice was more surprised than Halle thought it should’ve been. “With who? What did I miss?”
“Oh, it’s no big deal.” Halle diverted her eyes on purpose. It wasn’t a big deal and she didn’t want Corrine thinking it was. “Just an . . . old friend who needs a date to some holiday events.”
“Hmm. I thought you’d sworn off all that jazz?” Corrine studied her for a beat.
Halle’s eyes widened and she pressed her lips together. Corrine had always been able to figure her out. Halle’s best defense was silence.
“You’ll tell me,” Corrine’s voice was slow and matter of fact. “You always do.”
“That’s all there is to it. I need a formal dress for a banquet this Friday. Any ideas?”
“You certainly can’t go in this.” Corrine wagged her hand up and down in a zigzag motion.
“Yoga pants won’t cut it? My birth control glasses are a deterrent of some sort?” Halle rolled her eyes. “Geez.” She was thankful that yesterday she’d gone with contacts—just like she would for all of December now.
“I just wanted to be sure.” Corrine raised her hands up, palms out. “I know it’s been a while since Justin.”
“It hasn’t been that long and I know how to act on a date . . . um, friend thing.”
“He was,” Corrine looked to the ceiling, “six months ago. You need to get back out there.”
“I’m out there,” Halle said weakly.
“Um, no. You’re not.”
“How do you figure? I went out with that guy, Corbin, just the other day.”
“First of all, that was at least a month ago. Second, it was a drink. That doesn’t count as a date. Third, he asked you out again and you declined when there was nothing wrong with him.”
She’d declined a real date because not only did she know Corbin’s life’s story but also his ex-girlfriend’s. She couldn’t sit through drinks or otherwise again and listen to him speak about someone he was clearly not over.
“Eh, so dating isn’t my thing right now.” She peered at Corrine from the racks. “We all aren’t as lucky as you. High school sweethearts aren’t as easy to find these days.”
“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you give up.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m just taking a hiatus.”
“Call it what you will. I’m this close,” Corrine held her thumb and index finger millimeters apart, “to signing you up for online dating.”
“Let’s not go that far yet. After the holiday hoopla is over I’ll focus on my love life.”
After I move buildings and regain control of my life, then maybe I can invite someone in to it. Halle was happy for the holiday distraction Blake’s offer brought . . . and for the relief of knowing she was getting the money she needed. She’d had the first decent sleep in awhile last night. Her life was starting to get back on track. Destiny awaited.
Chapter Two
Halle heard a knock on her door at precisely six thirty. He’s an on-time cowboy. She took another look at herself in the mirror. Hope I’m not over dressed—or under dressed. She touched the curls of her up-do. Maybe this was a mistake. She sat on the corner of her bed while the second knock, a bit louder than the first, reverberated around the room. What did I get myself into? I hate these things. She was out of that life now and didn’t want to go back.
She hadn’t given much thought to her arrangement with Blake. There was no need—a few dates, play cordial, act normal, secure a business loan. Easy peasy. There was nothing fishy about it; it was a trade.
I’m out of my league. He’s probably got a girlfriend. He’s too good looking to be single. Maybe his family doesn’t approve or, with the holidays, there’s too much pressure for him with everyone expecting him to propose.
Halle stood, happy with her reasoning of Blake’s motivation, and smoothed her hands down her red gown. She’d argued with Corrine about the strapless A-line chiffon, but in the end she’d lost. It did look good on her, and she had a necklace she’d made that matched it perfectly. She spritzed her favorite perfume, inhaled the vanilla and cinnamon scent, and headed toward the door.
• • •
Blake’s jaw fell slightly when Halle swung open her townhouse door and he didn’t know what to say. He’d expected to see the natural beauty he’d met at Just Dandy. Instead, he was face to
face with a stunning woman in a red dress that hugged all the right curves. Her hair was pulled up but not like before. This time it had a purpose. He studied the smooth skin on her round face and worked his way down her sexy frame. Wow. Realizing his mouth was still open, he snapped it shut and cleared his throat.
“You look wonderful,” he hurried the compliment so maybe she wouldn’t notice his obvious gawking. My family will certainly wonder about her.
“Thanks, you too. I just need to grab my jacket.”
He walked in as she turned and disappeared down the hallway. Blake had hoped to get through tonight, and the others, unnoticed. That was clearly not an option any more. Damn, she’s a looker. He hadn’t planned for her to clean up so well. His family was going to have more questions then he originally planned. All the better. Halle would keep them busy until well after New Year’s.
He caught a glimpse of himself in a big mirror in her living room. He hadn’t thought much about the tux he’d thrown on before coming over to Halle’s—it was the one he always wore to these events. He lifted his hand to his cheek. Good thing I shaved. He’d almost decided against it. He was finding it hard to care lately. If his fate was already sealed at the bank, why should he try?
He glanced around Halle’s place. She had a tan couch with white tables. The colors were light and airy—blues, browns, and some sage, rather like her store. It wasn’t how most people in Wyoming decorated; no Western rustic charm to be found in the small living room. He liked it. Her place smelled of eucalyptus and citrus. He liked that, too.
“Ready?”
Her musical voice dragged him from thoughts of kicking up his feet on her couch and lying together while they watched television. Except Blake didn’t watch a lot of television. He didn’t have time. Nor did he ever think about snuggling with a girl on a couch or anywhere. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Blake shook his head, as if that would get rid of his thoughts. I need to get this night over with already.
“Yep.”
He stood behind her and helped her into an olive-colored trench coat as the scent of something spicy hit him. Holy hell. She smells like a cinnamon roll. He took a quiet, deep breath. Yep. Halle smelled delicious. This night couldn’t get any worse.
Blake put his hand on the small of Halle’s back and guided her to his black Ford F-350 King Ranch truck where he opened her door. She got into the high cab graciously and arranged herself before reaching for the seat belt. Blake noticed the gentle way she made sure her dress was tucked around her. It took him a moment to realize he was focusing on how her hands moved over the slippery fabric before he closed her door.
He slid into the driver’s side and turned his key halfway; he had to wait a minute for the diesel engine to warm up every time he started it. Blake decided to capitalize on the forced pause.
“You’re probably gonna get bombarded with questions.” He shifted in his seat so he could face her. “If not tonight then the next.”
“Bring it on.” She turned toward him.
He suppressed the urge to squirm at the undivided attention. Get over yourself Blake, this is a business deal. You do hundreds of these. He couldn’t, however, get over her eyes. They matched her trench coat and beckoned him closer. Blake wanted to lose himself in them. He resisted the temptation to reach out to her.
“So, what do I need to know?” she asked.
“For starters, if they ask if we’re dating, say no.” He’d been determined to stress this point, but now he wasn’t sure that it was what he wanted her to say. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted her to tell him no. “We’re just long-time friends from high school.” Blake forced the words. “That should keep them at bay.”
“Which high school did we go to?”
“Casper High.”
“Ah, so you’re an Antelope, huh?” Halle chuckled then swayed her head back and forth. “I wish I would’ve known that from the start. I’m a Bronco. That’s a deal breaker.” She shrugged and turned, reaching for the door handle.
“Halle,” he blurted out and reached for her arm.
“Just kidding . . . geez.” A spark of amusement flashed in her green eyes when she twisted back around to meet his stare. “So we went to rival high schools. You, mister, need to lighten up.” Her index finger shook a couple of times at him.
Blake released his grip when he realized he actually held her upper arm. He felt his cheeks warm, but refused to acknowledge an actual blush. He knew he was grumpy, he tended to get like that before these events. The obligation of it all pissed him off. He was fine once he got there; he liked most of the people.
“What happened to that guy who sat and drank with me in the shop in the middle of the day? He seemed fun.” Her finger now pointed at him. “Frankly, you don’t.”
Blake blew out a loud sigh and turned the key all the way. He wanted to leave before she really did change her mind. He hadn’t realized that option was even on the table.
“It’s family. Lately, they’ve really been making me uptight.” He glanced sideways at her. “That’s why you’re coming. It’ll take the pressure off at these things, giving me a little more time to see straight to make a decision.”
Halle’s presence might initially bring questions, but in the long run would be worth it. December was a marathon of activities, not a sprint. No blind dates this season, no women unabashedly hitting on him, and he may even be able to deflect business decisions due to Halle. Blake felt a little bad using her, but she was getting something she apparently really wanted in return. They were even.
“Decision?”
“Yeah.” He drove on so they wouldn’t be late, side-stepping her question so he could return to his original point. “My mother will seem harmless—she’s not. My dad will seem drunk—he is. My sister will seem nice.” He paused. “She . . . can be.”
“Ah, big brother has a soft spot.”
“How’d you know I’m older?” he asked as he braked for the red light.
“I can tell.” She winked at him.
Tingles climbed his spine. Halle’s sexiness level increased dramatically when she winked at him. I might be in trouble.
“Alright, well, keep your assumptions in check tonight.”
“Please?” Halle’s voice was soft.
“What?” he snapped.
“Say please. You can be nice. This is a favor, remember?”
“Yeah, favor.” He sighed.
They were just two nice people helping each other out. She’s my fake date for the holidays. That’s it.
• • •
Halle was bored as the guests poured into the hotel conference room. She sat at the table designated for Blake’s immediate family and drank her wine, watching all the well-dressed women saunter about. Why is everyone in black? Halle knew black was a classy color, but geez, have some imagination, people. She stood out in her red dress, and not just by her standards. Good. I don’t want to be one of these stuffy people anyway.
She was used to talking with the people she hung out with, not politely nodding and saying inconsequential niceties like “I can’t believe you manage all of that” or “I love your charity for the color orange, it truly is underrated.” How many of these events do I have left? Ugh. Halle counted the days until Christmas Eve . . . twenty-four.
Good thing Corrine let me borrow dresses or this business deal would’ve cost me money. She drank more wine, enjoying its rich plum taste. It was an expensive treat she didn’t get much lately and would be probably the only perk of these stuffy parties. It’s all for the loan. If this is what I have to do to get it, then so be it. And, face it, Blake wasn’t getting anything for free, either.
So, if she was going to get through this night and the others, she would have to try to have a conversation with someone. Maybe she should pick a group of women as her first target. Glass in hand, she prepared to unleash her sassy side. It was the only way she’d survive.
She stood, and straightened her red strapless gown and her necklace. She surv
eyed the room, moving from group to group. Lackluster. Too old. She finally settled on a group of women her age. If she was stuck here, she may as well try to get some business out of it.
Halle held her head high and plastered a pleasant grin on her face like the others—and like the others, she didn’t mean it. She knew this type of crowd—the well dressed who usually judged on appearance alone. She’d had her fair share of run-ins over the years at these types of swanky events enough to know a group of stuck-up women when she saw one. As she drew closer to the group, acting as though she was going to walk past, one of them made eye contact with her.
“That is a beautiful dress,” Halle complimented the stick-framed woman standing in front of her in—of course—black.
“Thank you.” The woman acknowledged.
Halle feigned continuing to the bar when another woman spoke, welcoming her into the conversation.
“Didn’t you come here with Blake?” the redhead asked too sweetly and then narrowed her eyes.
“I did.” Halle maintained an even tone. Hands off. She had come here with Blake and that thought warmed her. Even if it was looking like this chick was a secret girlfriend. Halle took in a sharp breath. What in the world am I doing? We aren’t dating. He has a girlfriend.
“How do you two know each other?” the woman persisted.
Halle studied the woman’s inquisitive face. She was in her early thirties, maybe late twenties, and there was no ring on her finger. It appeared Halle wasn’t exaggerating when she thought every single woman who knew Blake was after him.
Halle shrugged as if her answer was no big deal. “Old friends.” She sipped her wine and tightened her lips. Did they not think she was good enough to be Blake’s date? Get a grip and just play their passive aggressive game.
“Blake has a lot of old friends it would seem.” She giggled primly.
“I’m sure he does,” Halle spoke with her best innocent, agreeable voice, knowing the intended insult. “He’s so nice and friendly, and a great listener, too.”
