My Favorite Mistake

by Wendi Zwaduk

  “So you can’t decide. Jesus.” Dylan groaned. “I’m guessing gala girl is gorgeous. A real rung on the ladder, but Molly—who won’t help you advance—is sweet and reliable? Yes? No?”

  “Iris is beautiful and yeah, she’d help my career. I don’t want to be in advertising for the rest of my life. I could do more.”

  “You could also fly to the moon,” Dylan said. “You like both but you can’t decide, right? Then cut Molly loose. She doesn’t deserve the headaches you’re going to cause.”

  “You don’t know that.” He hated when Dylan had him figured out.

  “Don’t need to know. You’re my brother. You’re dangerous to the opposite sex because you have a way of getting women to fall for you, then when they do you end things.” Dylan sighed and didn’t say anything right away. “Gala girl—Iris—can probably manage if you break her heart. She’s more than likely got half a dozen men like you waiting in the wings, but Molly doesn’t. If you’re not willing to give her your full attention then don’t dick with her.”

  “You’re probably right.” He didn’t want Dylan to be right, but he knew better.

  “Who knows? I might make a play for her.”

  “Dyl?” A dull ache started behind Austin’s eyes as an image of Dylan and Molly together formed in his mind. They would make a striking couple. But he didn’t want her to end up with Dylan. She was supposed to be his girl.

  “Hey, I’m just sayin’ if you’re going to fuck with her then get over yourself and leave her alone,” Dylan said. “Gotta go. She opened the car door. Show time.” He clicked off the line, leaving Austin alone with his thoughts.

  Austin massaged his temples. Damn it. He didn’t deserve a woman like Molly. He’d end up being another mistake and he doubted he could live with himself if he gave her the shaft.

  He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and groaned. “You’re an asshole, Austin Dean.” He didn’t want to end up as a scumbag but he wasn’t sure even Molly could polish him enough to make him shine.

  Chapter Four

  Molly gripped the steering wheel. She’d opened the car door but wasn’t ready to head into the bridal shop. She looked at Remy. He wasn’t pushing her to get out of the vehicle, either.

  “What’s wrong?” Remy pried her fingers from the wheel. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m making a huge mistake. This isn’t the place I should be shopping.” She shook her head. “It’s not me.”

  “Why? So Austin’s mom and brother work here. So they’re staring at us through the front window. So what?” Remy shrugged. “Brother Dylan is still fine.” He whistled and stretched on his seat. “I’d ride that pole all night long.”

  “Remy Jack.” She was used to his comments, but every so often he shocked her.

  “He’s hot. Sorry I noticed.” Remy folded his arms. “Now tell me why you don’t belong here.”

  “This is all wrong.” She closed her car door. “I’m the girl who is happy in her sweatshirts and jeans. I keep things running behind the scenes. A red letter day for me is when I remember to wear makeup. I don’t have any idea what looks good on me or even what colors I should wear. I’m a mess.”

  “That’s why you have me here.” Remy opened his door then rounded the trunk of the car. “You can stall all day if you want but you’re going in there.” He tugged her to her feet. “You’re right. You’re not a showy girl but you are going to a showy event. At least have fun and play dress-up.” He nudged her forward then pushed the passenger door shut. “Lock?”

  She pressed the button on her fob. “Done.”

  Remy wound his arm around hers. “We’re going to find you a dress, get you dolled up and send you to the ball.”

  “You’re so cheery about this.” She allowed him to drag her into the store. “You have no idea how big this will be.”

  Austin’s mother, Gretchen, strode up to her and Remy. “Molly, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She threw her arms around Molly’s shoulders, snatching her in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” She wasn’t lying. One of the few things she regretted about not pursuing the relationship with Austin was not keeping up the relationship with his mother. “Austin said he called you.”

  “He did.” She grasped Molly’s shoulders. “The Aura Gala. I’m glad you’re taking him. Be right back.” Gretchen left Molly alone with Remy.

  “Taking him?” Remy snorted. “I don’t get to go along.” He twiddled with a fuchsia gown and ran his fingers over the sequins. “I get to hear about it once she gets home.”

  Molly sighed. If she’d had her way, she would’ve taken Remy along. At least he’d have kept her company. “I can call Austin. He’s probably changed his mind about taking me as his date. Maybe I can convince him to make it a foursome.”

  “Foursome?” Remy grinned. “Honey, you know better.”

  “I do.” Still, she could use her best friend at the gala for moral support.

  Gretchen swept back into the room with three dresses draped over her arm. “Dylan and I sorted through the gowns and I think we’ve narrowed the choices down to these.” She held up one dress and handed the other two to her son. “These should be the right size. It’s a matter of what color you’d like and the shape. Austin said something about an old Hollywood glamor feel. I think these fit the bill. What do you think?”

  Molly wobbled on her feet. She drank in the details of all three dresses. The red one featured sequins but a tight bodice. The skirt would be pretty when, and if, she decided to dance. She considered the navy gown. All satin and silk and delicate. She’d probably rip the form-fitting thing as she walked into the gala. She crinkled her nose. Neither dress was what she wanted but she didn’t have the heart to tell Gretchen she was all wrong.

  “Dylan, get me the burgundy gown.” Gretchen put the dresses on a rolling rack. “Molly isn’t impressed and neither am I.”

  Remy picked up the mint-green gown. “This one will emphasize the wrong parts.” He held the dress up to Molly. “The mermaid skirt won’t give you the right silhouette.”

  “Thank you?” She settled on the overstuffed ottoman. “See? I told you this wouldn’t work.”

  “You haven’t seen the best of what I’ve got.” Gretchen tugged Molly to her feet. “Try this burgundy gown on. If it’s not perfect then I’ll give in.” She nudged Molly into a dressing room and yanked the door closed.

  “Mrs. Dean.” Molly held up both hands. “I appreciate how hard you and Dylan are working. It’s flattering, really, but I’m not sure I want to attend the function tonight. It’s short notice, I can’t find anything to wear and I’m not good in public. Why don’t we call it a day?”

  “Because you’re not getting out of this. Strip down.” Gretchen hooked the coat hanger onto the back of the dressing room door. “I’ve been in the formal wear business for almost forty years. I know a challenge when I see one.”

  Molly shrugged out of her sweater then shoved her jeans to the floor. She kicked out of her ankle boots and the denim. “I’m more than a challenge. I’m a disaster.”

  “You’re a diamond in the rough.” Gretchen eased the gown from the hanger. “The zipper’s right here. Now this will look better without your bra, but for now I want to make sure it fits where I think it should.”

  Molly stepped into the silky red dress. She liked the way the slippery material eased over her hips. She stood still as Gretchen affixed the neckline around her throat then zipped her into the gown.

  “I don’t have a mirror in here but I think when you go out to the main room you’ll like what you see.” Gretchen opened the door. “Boys, close your eyes.”

  Molly groaned. She was being given way too much credit. She grasped the skirt and followed Austin’s mother into the main shop room.

  Remy opened his eyes first and his lips parted. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he didn’t say anything. Molly shook her head and bit back a laugh. Remy talked all the time—even
in his sleep—and if she had him reduced to silence, either she looked really good or really awful.

  Dylan nodded once. “My brother will love it. He’s crazy if he doesn’t.”

  Gretchen grasped Molly’s shoulders and angled her toward the mirror. “See for yourself. You were built for these vintage gowns. Old Hollywood has nothing on you.”

  Molly closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready to see the monstrosity. Comments from her past came back in a rush. Her mother reminding her to put the fork down to ensure she’d have a good figure. Her father’s constant comments about her filling out in the wrong places. Then there were the insults from Linc. He’d only loved her as a slender woman. He couldn’t love a woman who wasn’t perfect. Tears pricked behind her eyes. Austin wasn’t much different. He thrived on beauty and setting the right image.

  “I can’t do this,” Molly whispered.

  “You haven’t looked at yourself.” Gretchen rubbed Molly’s bare arms. “Come on. Open up and give yourself a fair chance.”

  Molly held her breath and did as told. When she saw herself in the mirror, the tears streamed down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how Gretchen knew, but the burgundy dress fit like a second skin. The halter top accentuated her chest without being tacky and the skirt showcased her curves. Gretchen was right—the old Hollywood style worked for her.

  “Remy?” Molly wiped her face. “What do you think?”

  “I’m speechless,” Remy replied. “And jealous. You’re beautiful.”

  Dylan leaned on the counter and grinned. “Like I said, if my brother doesn’t like it…he doesn’t deserve to be on your arm.”

  “Thanks.” She needed to stop crying or her makeup wouldn’t be right, but still. She couldn’t believe that was her in the mirror. The dress hid the frumpiness and made her appear taller.

  “Now.” Gretchen eased up behind Molly. “I’m thinking something that’ll show off your neck. Yes?”

  “I’m not much into fashion. My idea of fancy usually involves a sweater and jeans,” Molly said.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the right pair of jeans and a sweater, but you can’t wear that to a formal engagement.” Gretchen toyed with Molly’s hair. “I’ll call in my friend, Dasia. She’ll know exactly what to do.”

  “I hope so.” She stole a glance at Remy, who gave her the double thumbs-up sign. Molly turned her attention back to her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had no idea what Dasia would do with her hair or how she’d have her makeup done, but hope blossomed in her heart. A dress wouldn’t change her life but it might show Austin she was a lady after all.

  * * * *

  Molly massaged her temples. With the exception of a break to grab some lunch, she’d been in the uncomfortable chair having her hair done and makeup sorted out. One day she’d figure out how to look beautiful without help, but that day wasn’t today. The makeup artist had left her alone and the hairdresser hadn’t come back yet.

  Remy sat opposite her and folded his arms. “We’ve got five minutes when someone isn’t making you beautiful.”

  “You’re not jealous, are you?” She picked at the arm of the chair. “I’m sorry. I dragged you along for this crazy train and never thought about what you wanted to do today.”

  “Are you kidding?” He laughed and leaned back in his seat. “This is better than sitting at home. Ever since Javier walked, I haven’t been myself. Being here with you has inspired me.”

  “It has?”

  “Yeah. I want to paint again and create some jewelry. I saw all those dresses, and stories to go along with them are filling my head. I want to put them on canvas. Hell, I want to create some fierce necklaces and bracelets to go with them, too.” He pulled a notepad from his back pocket. “I can’t wait to get some of these into my sketchbook.”

  “Good.” She’d worried about Remy. When he loved, he went all in, too. “I’m looking forward to seeing them.”

  “Me, too.” He stuffed the notebook back into his pocket. “Speaking of seeing again, I’m going to ask this before Momma and Dylan come back. You and Austin—did you? Again?”

  The headache she’d been nursing came back stronger. She didn’t have to hear the entire question to know what he meant. “Yes. We did. Last night.”

  “Girl.” He grinned. “He was good, wasn’t he?”

  “He was.” She bit back a sigh. She could still feel Austin’s arms around her and his breath on her skin. “I’m crazy for trying, though. I keep telling myself we’re not going to make it, but then he drags me in again. I should know better.”

  “You do.” Remy met her gaze. He toyed with his thick watch—a gift from Javier. “Some things are meant to last and others not so much.”

  She remembered the moment Javier had gifted him with the timepiece last Christmas. She’d thought they’d be together forever. “What happened with Javier? What’d he do?”

  “I caught him in bed with our friend, Thad. I should’ve known. I kept seeing them together and interrupting private conversations. I wanted things to be different, but wishing and hoping only work in pop songs.”

  “I’m sorry.” She grasped his hand. “You loved him.”

  “I did—just like you love Austin.” Remy nodded once. “Didn’t think I caught on to that, did you?”

  “I knew.” How could she not know? “What are you going to do? Going to chew me out?”

  “No,” Remy replied. “What’s the point in giving you hell? I’ve been in—I am in your shoes.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I slept with Javier three nights ago. We needed each other and when I woke up, he was gone.”

  “Remy.” She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I thought I loved him but I see him for who he really is. He can’t commit.” He met her gaze. “Not like anyone we know.”

  “You have no idea. The only thing he’ll commit to is his next conquest. I’m crazy for thinking I could be enough.” Molly covered her face with both hands.

  “Makeup!” Remy touched her arm. “Don’t mess it up.”

  “Shit.” This was another reason she wasn’t meant for fancy dress anything—she even screwed up her makeup.

  “You’re fine.” Remy patted the grips on his chair and nodded again. “Looks like the cavalry is on the way.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Dylan makes my motor run.”

  “Then ask him out,” she murmured.

  “Nah. He’s not interested.” Remy winked then left the chair. “I’ll be back in a few. I need to make a call.” He strolled away, leaving her alone with Austin’s brother.

  “Hi.” Dylan gripped the back of the chair Remy had just vacated. “Looks like the hairdresser won’t be back. She had another job.”

  “Oh.” Molly ran her fingers through her hair. “I can do something with it when I get home.”

  “No.” He spun her around to face the mirror. Dylan smoothed his fingers through her hair. “Working here means I’ve had to learn things I never thought I could do.” He combed her hair back. “Give me half an hour and I’ll make you more beautiful.”

  “You’ve got a long ways to go.” She wasn’t beautiful. Never would be.

  “Are you done?” He tugged lightly on the ponytail he’d made from her hair. “You’re a gorgeous woman who doesn’t know how to use what she’s got.”

  “I’d have to have something first.” She squared her shoulders. “Think about the women your brother dates. Tall, thin with poise and grace. I trip over my own two feet.”

  “So?” He gathered her hair at the crown of her head. He didn’t look at the style but at her. “Everyone is unique. You’ve got to embrace what you’ve got going for you—and before you ask, your smile, the way you make everyone laugh and feel welcome. You might not be conventionally pretty, but who is? I’m not conventionally handsome. I’ll never be as tall as Austin or have his muscles, but I’m okay with that. I’ve got my own talents.” He secured an elastic band around her tresses. “I was thinking something old Hollywood to go with that dress. Simple and
elegant.”

  “You know an awful lot about making me pretty.” She held still as he wound a curling iron through a hank of hair near her scalp. “I appreciate it.”

  “Hopefully my brother appreciates you.” He curled another lock. “He’s a good man, but sometimes he doesn’t see what’s right in front of him.”

  “I know.”

  “This is why we have to make him see.” Dylan plunked the curling iron into the holder then sprayed the do with hairspray. “He might be clueless, but he’s not heartless.”

  “Sure.” She stared at her reflection. In a few moments, he’d turned her mass of unruliness into a slick, elegant ponytail.

  “Austin is a difficult man to love. He might not think so, but it’s true.” He wound a barrette laden with white rhinestones around the elastic. “Perfect.”

  Between her makeup and the extra embellishments, she agreed. She hardly looked like herself.

  “What you’ve got to do is give that brother of mine something to miss. Make him see you’re more than just his co-worker. I know him and you. If there was ever two people who should be together, it’s you two.”

  “He’ll never see that—but I’ll try.” She had a wonderful dress, her makeup appeared professional and her hair wasn’t a frizzy mess. She’d do her best to have a great night and not waste everyone’s hard work. She patted Dylan’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “You’re not even dressed yet.” He leaned forward and hugged her from behind. “Before you leave me…Remy’s not seeing anyone, is he?”

  “Are you up for the job?” She turned in her seat to face Dylan. “He’s asked about you, too.”

  Dylan bobbed his eyebrows. He might not have been as tall as his brother or as broad, but Dylan wasn’t lacking in the appearance department. His blue eyes sparkled and his constant five o’clock shadow was endearing. He reminded her of a model, too.

  “I need to get dressed, but Remy could use some entertaining,” she said and scooted out of the chair. “Handle him with care and you won’t regret it.”