“A gift?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.
“Yes,” he said, walking over to the cupboard. She felt a fizz of anticipation. She had never had a boyfriend buy her gifts for no reason. She watched as Rob opened the wardrobe door and pulled out a red silk dress. She recognized it immediately. It was a dress she’d been looking at on her phone last week. She’d been browsing for an outfit for this weekend. She’d bookmarked it but couldn’t rationalize the expense.
“I thought you might want something new for this evening,” Rob said, eyes bright with anticipation at her delight.
“How did you know I wanted this?” she asked quietly, feeling a flash of alarm. Did he have access to her internet searches?
“You had your phone open on the page when we were at dinner last week, and then you mentioned you had nothing to wear.” Wow, he really did remember everything.
“Oh right,” she said, shaking her head. Of course he couldn’t access her search history.She was being paranoid. “How can you afford this?”
“I have access to funds,” he said, and his expression was so hopeful, so eager to please, she could only smile and thank him. “Why don’t you try it on?” he suggested.
She ducked into the bathroom. It was a beautiful dress, a long, slinky silk gown with delicate cap sleeves and a slit that climbed up her thigh. The fabric slipped over her skin in a way that felt almost illicit, impossibly soft. Wearing it, she felt like a 1920s starlet, like she should have been shot in black and white. There was no full-length mirror in the bathroom, so she couldn’t see the whole effect. If she were trying this on at home, she would probably send it back—it was too bold, too sexy, it would garner too much attention. Peter would have hated it; he never liked her wearing anything revealing.But here, in this borrowed bathroom light, she let herself imagine being the kind of woman who wore a dress like this without apology.
Opening the bathroom door, she looked to Rob for a reaction.
“Wow, you look incredible,” he said immediately. She did a spin and then walked across to look in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” she asked.
He shook his head. “You could never be too much.”
Chloe knew he was probably programmed to flatter her, but it still felt nice to hear. She decided to straighten her hair; it would go better with the dress. Rob had brought supplies: olives, crisps, and gin and tonics in a can. So, they put music on and had a little picnic on the floor as she wrangled her wild hair smooth.
“I can do that for you if you like,” he offered, reaching for her straightener. He had been watching her and mastered the technique in no time. Now this really did feel like getting readyfor a night out at uni. And as Rob finished her hair, Chloe played him clips on her phone fromRomy and Michele’s High School Reunion.
“It’s a classic nineties comedy, where two unsuccessful misfits go to their ten-year reunion and pretend they invented Post-its,” she explained, laughing out loud at the bit where Mira Sorvino extracted herself from an awkward situation by pretending her shoe was filling up with blood. Rob laughed along, but Chloe could see in his eyes he didn’t quite get the humor.
Once Rob had finished, she had the straightest hair she’d ever had.
“Wow, you’re good at that,” she said. Their eyes met in the mirror and she could see he looked pleased with the compliment. “People aren’t going to recognize me.”
As though sensing a flicker of doubt, Rob said, “It’s still you, it’s just you in a beautiful dress.” She stood a little taller, feeling her confidence bolstered. If she’d been worried about showing up here as a nobody, Rob made her feel like she was somebody.
He turned her around to face him and she looked up into his eyes. It felt so natural to lean in, tilt her face to his. She felt her watch hum with a slight vibration as his lips met hers. Then he said softly in her ear, “The more I kiss you, the more I learn how you like to be kissed.” His words sent an unexpected thrill through her.
“I didn’t know there was a science to kissing,” she said, looking up from beneath lowered lashes.
“There’s a science to everything,” he said plainly. Then he linked his arm in hers and said, “Shall we go?”
The hall was already bustling when they arrived. The reunion was well attended, and the alumni committee had done a wonderful job decorating the hall with flowers and streamers.Waiters in uniform passed around flutes of sparkling wine and canapés, and Chloe was relieved to see other people had dressed up for the occasion. Lorna Childs was wearing a purple sequined cocktail dress, Katie Delafield had changed into a chic black maternity number, and Bella Hewitson was in a bold, shimmering gray pantsuit. Rob wrapped a hand around Chloe’s waist, and she felt every eye upon them as they made their entrance.
“Chloe Fairway,” called Lorna, sidling straight up to her. She smelled of sweet vanilla and hair spray. “Well, don’t you look like the cat who got the cream! And who is this?” She stared at Rob, who shot her one of his full-watt smiles.
“Hi, Lorna, this is my boyfriend, Rob,” Chloe said.
“Pleased to meet you, Lorna,” Rob said, holding out a hand. Lorna gazed at him, then looked across at Chloe. She blinked twice as though she couldn’t quite believe this pairing.
“Where did you find him?” she asked, laughing as she pressed a hand into Chloe’s forearm. “When I go for husband number two, I’ll need to know, ha ha. I’m joking. Matty, come meet my friends.”
Lorna and Chloe had not been friends. Lorna was one of the cool, aloof girls who only dated rowers, did very little work, and strutted around like she was the main character in everyone else’s story. Now she was a successful interior designer, with a husband who often appeared on her social media feed looking as styled as the house they lived in. Kiko had this whole theory that Lorna had his shirts made in the same hue as her sofa cushions.
“Hi,” Matteo said, tucking his phone into his breast pocket so he could shake Rob’s hand, then he turned to Chloe and looked her up and down in a way she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. “So, you and Lorna were friendly, were you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Were youveryintimate?”
Lorna laughed. “No, Chloelivedat the theater. She didn’t have much time for us sporty types.”
“That’s not true,” Chloe said politely. She hadn’t had much time for Lorna, but that had nothing to do with her being on the hockey team.
