by Sarah Adams
Suddenly, the curling wand appears an inch from my face again, jolting me back into reality. “Tell me everything that happened.” Wow. Jo has a real interrogation-officer thing going on right now, and I’m a little terrified of her.
“Nothing!” I say, craning my neck as far back as I can without falling off the stool.
Joanna lifts a brow. “You’re not holding out on me, are you? I know he was in your bed this morning when I called. And no sense lying to me about it, because I already smelled your pillow, and it smells like Old Spice!”
“You smelled my pillow?!”
If someone was just tuning in, they might think that Joanna was about to scold me for having a man spend the night. Ha! I wish.
“Come on, Evie, didn’t anyone ever teach you how to kiss and tell?”
I shake my head at her in mock reprimand. “Someone needs to teach you some manners.”
She grins and picks up another section of my hair to wrap it around the iron. My hair is officially too long for me to curl myself, but I want it to be in pristine condition when I go to my parents’ house later tonight. That way, Mama can’t say anything about how I should really try putting an effort into my appearance before I go out.
“Fine. You don’t have to go into detail. But just tell me this…are you happy?”
I meet my own eyes in the mirror and take a long look. And yep, right there, reflected in my green eyes, is a spark of happiness I haven’t felt in a long time. I feel cherished by Jake, and I’m starting to trust that feeling. “I am happy. I feel like things are finally starting to come together in my life. Plans for the fundraiser are lining up nicely, and I really feel hopeful that we’re going to make enough to achieve our goal for the year. I’m seeing an amazing guy that truly understands me and my lifestyle, and I get to spend time with his adorable daughter who makes me feel…”
“Whole?”
I meet Jo’s eyes in the mirror and nod. “Yeah. How’d you know that?”
She smiles and then turns her attention back on my hair and gently wraps it around the iron. “Because that’s what happened to me three years ago when I met you.” My heart swells, and all of a sudden, tears are pricking my eyes. I sit very, very still because I despise crying in front of people.
Joanna unwraps a curl from the iron and sets it down, resting her hip against the counter and folding her arms in front of her. “Did I ever tell you that Gary and I couldn’t have children?”
My heart tears in half. “No, you didn’t.”
“I don’t like to dwell on it much. We found out back in the day before fertility treatments were as successful as they are now. The fact of the matter is, a family just wasn’t in the cards for us. I always had this distinct feeling, though, that something or someone was missing in my life.” She smiles softly. “All the way up until I met you, darlin’. I feel like you’re the daughter I couldn’t have…and…I probably don’t say it enough, but I love you, missy.”
I feel my smile stretch across my face and reach out to take her hand. “You tell me every single day, Jo.”
Her eyes grow misty. “It’s not enough.”
Now my tears are falling too, and it’s no use to stop them. “I don’t know where I would be without you, Jo. I love you, too. And you’ve been a better mama to me than mine ever has been. So…thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey. You know, I think the good Lord knew we’d need each other.”
“I think you’re right.”
We stare at each other for a minute, and then, as if we truly are mother and daughter, we both scrunch our noses at the same time and let go of each other’s hand. “Right. Well, no sense making your mascara run right before your evening at the palace. Wouldn’t want to give the queen anything to remark on.”
I laugh and turn my eyes to the mirror to finish up my makeup. I’m pulling out all the stops tonight. Mascara. Eyeliner. Blush. It’s all happening. Sephora will be so proud of me. “Oh, I’m sure Her Highness will find something to her distaste.”
“I wish you’d take me instead of Jake. I’d like to take that woman’s hateful comments and shove them right up her snooty little—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know where you’d put them.”
Jo gives me a mischievous grin and then leaves my bathroom. “I'll get your dress. Where is it?”
“On my bed,” I call out to her, and then I hear her loud, overly dramatic gasp.
“Please tell me you’re not going to wear this hideous thing.”
I knew she’d hate it. It’s a conservative little number I plucked from the sale rack of Ann Taylor Loft. It’s a plain, navy pencil dress with a high neckline, and it hits me just below the knees. It looks like I should be walking into a courtroom with a briefcase at my side rather than a dinner party.
“But this looks nothing like you. Where’s the color? Where are the flowers?” She sticks her head back into the bathroom, holding up the offending dress. “Oh gosh, don’t tell me you got matching pumps to go with it.”
“They’re by the door.”
“Why are you doing this?”
I sigh and stand up, taking the dress from her and walking out to lay it back down on my bed. “I know it’s nothing like me. But I’m not trying to be me tonight. I’m just trying to get in, grab that check, and get out as fast as possible with as few mean comments stuck to my back as I can manage.” It’s probably a little wussy of me, but I don’t care. I’m tired of fighting my mama at every turn. Might as well play the game and blend into their lifestyle until I can get back home and change into my sneakers and summer dress.
I peel off my clothes and slip into the dress, having Jo zip up the back. I spin around, and she gives me a begrudging smile. “Well…at least it hugs your curves. Jake will like that.”
I laugh and shake my head at her. “I swear I will burn this dress as soon as I’m done with this dinner party. How about that?”
“Okay. As long as you let Jake unzip it for you.” She winks with a devilish smirk, and I swat her arm.
I swear she pulled a Freaky Friday with someone back in the day, because there is no way this woman is actually in her sixties. And I’m also really jealous of her teal ribbon scrunchie wrapped around her top knot. I decide I’ll steal it from her next time I’m at her house.
A knock sounds at the door, and Joanna and I both look at each other. She wags her brows and bolts to the door and, instinctively, I know what that crazy woman is after.
“Joanna, don’t you dare ask him if we had sex last night!!” I say way too loudly just as she’s flinging open the door.
I guess my door is paper-thin, because Jake smiles at Joanna and his dimples pop. “Sadly, we did not,” he says, and my stomach flips over.
To say he looks amazing would be a gross understatement. He’s wearing dark-blue slacks that cling to his muscular thighs and a white button-down tucked in with a brown belt. A light-gray suit jacket hugs his big shoulders, and his jaw is clean shaven. I also think he must have called some kind of hair-and-makeup artist to come style his hair, because it’s molded into a soft, tousled look that only a movie star should be able to achieve.
My mouth is hanging open at the sight of him, which gives Joanna immense pleasure. She chuckles and grabs her purse. “I think I’ll just be on my way, then. Have fun tonight, darlin’!” She squeezes Jake’s arm on her way out and then flashes a wide-eyed look back at me after she realizes he’s all muscle.
Jake steps inside with a chuckle and shuts the door behind him.
His eyes take me in, and they hitch on the curves of my waist before he shakes his head with a smile. He walks up to me and lightly sets his hands on those curves to tug me closer. “I think we might have to have a talk later about the whole casual thing we discussed.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask with a smile and a lifted brow, looking as cool as a cucumber and not at all like my stomach is exploding with butterflies.
“Yeah.” He bends down and kisses me…and yep, I’
m going to have to reapply my lipstick before we leave, just like he promised.
It’s a good start to the evening, and I think dinner is going to be more bearable with Jake at my side. But really, I can’t wait until it’s all over and I get to have that conversation with him. I can feel everything falling into place, and it feels good.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JAKE
“So. This is where you grew up?” I ask, staring up at the white, three-story Charleston mansion that has a wraparound porch on every level. The house is obscenely big for this part of town. I now know it’s possible for a home to look smug.
It’s tucked off the main road, and we had to punch in a number for the large iron gates to give us access to the driveway. I can see a well-manicured tea garden off the right side of the home, and the landscaping is so well manicured I wouldn’t be surprised to see a staff of twenty on their hands and knees, cutting each blade of grass with golden shears.
I design homes for a living—some a lot like this one—but for some reason, knowing that this house is a part of Evie’s history is leaving me a little dumbfounded. It’s what this house represents. Wealth. Status. Power. Truth is, I’m feeling a little insecure right now. It’s dumb, but I really thought she was impressed with me and my life. Now, I know that she was just humoring me.
She grabs my arm and tugs me out of my trance. “Don’t look it in the eyes. That’s how it traps you.” Evie lifts up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek and then drags me and Charlie up to the front door. I think he wants to be here just about as much as I do. “There are two rules tonight: stay close and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut,” she says while nervously running her hands over her dress that shows off all of her gorgeous curves.
I think she was trying to go for a modest look, but really, she just looks like a hot businesswoman. I’m not going to let myself get distracted, though, because I’m pretty sure I should be offended right about now.
“Did you say keep my mouth shut?” Surely, I didn’t hear that right.
“Yep. Seal it up.”
Huh. Well, yeah. Now, I’m a little annoyed. Does she not think I’m good enough for her family?
She’s still fidgeting with her clothes and fluffing her long blonde waves (gosh, it’s hard to focus when she’s doing all that), and I’ve never seen her look so insecure before. She finally looks up at me, and her furrowed brows soften. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“You just told me to not speak during this dinner.”
“Oh!” She steps closer. I want to be annoyed, but her nearness does strange things to me.
I can see two future paths forming in my mind. One, we go inside and have a tense dinner with her parents. Two, I toss her over my shoulder, haul her off to my truck, and we peel out of here before anyone knows we were ever on the premises, and then we spend the whole night together. She makes me feel greedy. I want Evie all to myself.
“Jake, I’m telling you to not talk for your own good. It doesn’t matter how wonderful you are, or how successful you are. If your last name is not Murray, they will eat you alive. They want me to marry Tyler, and so trust me, anything you say tonight will be twisted around in some way to bite you in the butt.”
“They are really that serious about this Tyler guy?”
She nods, looking remorseful…like it’s her fault somehow. “We are only here to get that check and run. The less we both say, the better. Are you ready?”
I feel like we are about to step into battle. Suddenly, I feel naked. Where’s my sword? Where’s my armor? All I’ve got is this stupid button-down shirt and slacks.
I nod. “I’ll cover you. And if you get in over your head, squeeze my hand three times, and I’ll execute an extraction.”
Her green eyes glow bright. “What if we get separated?”
I step a little closer and put my hands on her hips. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you out of my sight.”
Evie’s eyes darken, and they fall to my mouth.
I’m bending down to kiss her when the front door suddenly flies open. Evie jumps, and I let go of her. We both look to the woman watching us with, somehow, both a bored and angry expression. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know it if you saw it. Kind of like she hates you but also knows she can crush you at any moment.
“Wonderful,” Melony says with mock enthusiasm. “You brought your friend.”
It’s in this moment that I wish Evie and I had already had the talk that’s been rolling around in my mind all day. Because, yeah, that’s all I am to her, technically. A freaking friend. Not for long, Melony.
“Hi, Mama, you look nice,” says Evie, being really generous to her mom.
Melony’s hawk eyes scan down Evie, and she sighs. “At least you’re wearing something on your bottom half tonight.”
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Evie looks perfect. I can see her shoulders slumping with dejection, and all I want to do is sit Melony down and force her to order a spring wardrobe from a Walmart catalog until she apologizes.
Evie flashes a tense smile up at me and wraps her arm around mine. “Alrighty then. Let’s get this party started.”
EVIE
I hate being in this house. It’s wrapped in memories that I despise.
“Do you feel that?” I whisper to Jake as we follow Mama from the foyer into the parlor where, supposedly, the rest of the guests have been waiting on us for the past fifteen minutes. I call bull. We were right on time! If they were waiting, it’s because those snooty booties got here early.
“Feel what?”
“That plunge in temperature. My mama’s heart is so cold it keeps the house at a chilling 63 degrees.”
Jake laughs, which draws Mama’s attention. She looks over the shoulder of her powder-pink linen dress and scowls. “I know you’ve been out of society for a while now, but do try to remember your manners, Evelyn Grace. None of your jokes at the dinner table if you want to leave here with a check in your pocket.”
“No, all you said was that I had to attend tonight to get the check. You can’t change the rules now, Mama.”
“As long as I am holding the pen, I can change the rules whenever I like,” Mama says with a lazy smirk as she pauses outside of the parlor threshold.
Everything looks exactly as it did the day I left home. Dark-chestnut hardwoods, cream walls, and the same color wood as the floor lines the molding of the windows and doors. Plush rugs with various shades of slate-blue, cream, and burgundy dot the floors, and in the center of the foyer, there is the same round antique table that would make Joanna Gaines salivate.
Mama’s house has been featured in Southern Living as one of the most beautifully designed houses in Charleston, but it’s not my style. Everything feels overdone. Over-decorated. It’s not warm and inviting like Jake’s house. And instead of smelling of vanilla and teakwood, I think the candles they burn here have wicks made from hundred-dollar bills, giving it the overall aroma of wealth.
Mama gestures with her hand for us to enter before her. She casts a disgusted look at Charlie, and I know she’s annoyed that I brought him. I feel a familiar prickle of dread roll over me, and just as I’m considering kicking off my heels and running for the door, I feel Jake’s hand land on my lower back. I glance up at him, and he winks at me with a smile that makes my heart grow.
That’s when I realize this night isn’t going to be anything like all of the rest. Jake is by my side. I have a sidekick. Someone to shoulder some of the weight and help me deflect the fiery scowls my mama will throw at me.
I’m feeling lighter and hopeful as we step into the room together. And then, as plain as day, I can spot the trap, and I want to turn around and bolt again. In fact, I do. I spin out of Jake’s hand and make a beeline for the door, but Mama catches my arm before I can escape, and I realize it’s too late. We’re toast. Done for. All good feelings are gone.
Mr. And Mrs. Murray are seated on a loveseat, and Tyler is standing by the beverage cart with something am
ber-colored already floating in the glass in his hand. I hate when he drinks. It makes him cockier. And handsier.
I’m now realizing that this is what my parents were hoping would be a family dinner. Because that’s what they want all of us to be: one weird, competitively dysfunctional family. I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked in the corner and found a preacher gagged and tied until they were ready to force him into officiating a ceremony.
“I thought you said we would be having a dinner party with important guests,” I hiss at my mother. She’s no longer Mama to me. It’s Mother from here on out. I knew she was underhanded, but this feels like too much. Forcing me to eat and be merry with people whom I have clearly been avoiding.
She’s got her fake pageant smile on and that disgustingly sweet voice that gives me PTSD. “Of course I did. Because these are the most important guests, dear. It’s been much too long since you’ve seen Tom and Amy.” She’s spinning me around, and old habits really must die hard, because I’m pasting my fake smile on too, even though I really want to stomp on my mother’s foot and yell “NEVER!” before running out of the room.
I just keep reminding myself, though, to not rock the boat tonight. Get in. Grab the check. Get out.
“Evie, how nice to see you again!” says Amy Murray. She’s as feline as I’ve ever seen. The only woman who could ever give my mama a run for her money. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? Mama and Amy act like friends; they keep everything Southern sweet, but there is the unspoken code between them that says if you double-cross me, I will destroy you. “Tyler, dear, come see Evie! How long has it been since you two have seen each other?”
My eyes meet Tyler’s, and he’s smirking like the devil as he looks between me and Jake. I feel a chill settle over me, and I’m worried that Tyler is in on this trap. I fall in line beside Jake, and suddenly, I feel his hand wrapping around my shoulder. “Mine,” says his arm, and I like it. Maybe if I Sharpie his name across my forehead for the rest of the night, everyone would get the picture that I’m never going to be Tyler’s, and whatever they are planning won’t work.
