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My thoughts strayed.
I could ask my parents for help, but they’d be expecting company from their elitist friends, those who mingled in the same opulent and privileged circles Mom and Dad did.
I couldn’t pull them from their preparations.
I wondered about Faye. She already had an apron and knew the ropes in describing products and helping customers make their decisions, thanks to her working as a greeter in my shop on Seventeenth.
She’d already helped me once tonight. How could I pull her away a second time?
I would never in a thousand years have guessed that Ella was one of her grandkids. That made my surprise hours ago that much more amazing.
What was taking them so long?
I was so preoccupied, I didn’t notice the woman standing in the entryway until moments later. The music faded. Lights blurred the edges of my vision, and all I could do was stare.
I’d expected to find a dressed-up version of Ella, but this transformation stupefied me.
She was a goddess. She blinded me. I was struck completely speechless.
Her figure was slim in a sophisticateddress that embodied winter itself, with its off-the-shoulder neckline and soft pink lace that hugged her slender silhouette. A thin band tied around her waist, emphasizing just how small it was.
Her chestnut hair was coiffed and collected in waves over her right shoulder. The effect of her face was more startling than anything, though.
I’d seen those chocolate eyes, that thin nose, and those pouty lips in my dreams for days.
I wasn’t sure when I’d moved closer to her. Somehow, I was just there. Staring like a fool. And she smiled back with a becoming blush.
I’d never pegged her as the blushing type, which made this moment that much more satisfying.
“Ella. You’re here,” I said. “You look?—”
She shook the snow from her hair, displaying the briefest flash of her silver heels before lowering the train she’d hoisted in one hand to keep it from dragging on the floor.
The dress created a pool around her feet.
She lowered her head in uncharacteristic bashfulness. “What you did was incredible,” she said.
“That’s the word. Incredible.”
“The salon?—”
I placed a finger on her lips. Her soft breath stroked my skin, undoing me.
“No,” I said. “You. You look so beautiful.” The word didn’t seem to do her justice.
As I lowered my finger, she lifted her chin, her attention rapt. “Thank you. You look great, too.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
She laughed. The sound succeeded at breaking whatever ice was left between us.
We stared at one another in the ballroom. Tinkling music wafted through, swirling around us. Lights were bright, as though some of the fairytale of the dance wove its way around us.
Or maybe it was just her.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to touch her again.
I reached for her hand and brought it to my lips.
