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“Amanda Elliott.”
“Hey, Mandy. It’s Daniel.”
She felt her cheeks heat, and Karen grinned.
“Hi, Daniel.”
“Listen, are you free on Saturday night?”
“Uh, Saturday?”
Karen nodded vigorously.
“Let me…” Amanda paused, not wanting to look too eager. She didn’t know what they were doing, or where they were going, but she wanted to feel that rush of excitement one more time. “Saturday’s fine.”
“Good. There’s a museum fund-raiser at the Riverside Ballroom.”
The Riverside? As in the hotel where they’d first made love?
Amanda opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“Pick you up at eight?” asked Daniel.
“I…Uh…”
“It’s black tie. For a really good cause.”
Of course it was a good cause. Daniel always showed up for the good cause. Just as he always showed up for the reporters and the movers and shakers.
Why couldn’t they just go out for pizza?
“Amanda?” he prompted.
“Yeah?”
“Eight o’clock’s okay?”
“Sure.”
“Great. See you then.”
Amanda closed her little phone.
“Another date?” asked Karen with a sly grin.
“The museum fund-raiser at the Riverside.”
Karen’s breath whistled out. “Now, that’s a date.”
“I have nothing to wear.”
Karen waved a dismissive hand. “Sure you do.”
Amanda tucked her phone back into her purse. “No, really. I’ve been through my entire closet. I have absolutely nothing to wear.”
“Let’s see if we can help you.”
“How do you mean?”
Karen stood up. “Scarlet must have a hundred of her designs upstairs.”
Amanda took a step back. “I couldn’t.”
“Sure you could. It’ll be fun.” Karen took Amanda’s arm. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll call her for permission when we find something. But she’s going to be thrilled.”
Amanda allowed Karen to tug her toward the door. “You think she’ll let me wear her clothes?”
“Absolutely. And if we need alterations, we’ll get her over here.”
Amanda hesitated. “I’m not—”
“Humor me on this,” said Karen. “I’ll feel like I’m going to the party myself.”
“You actually like that kind of thing?” Amanda asked as they headed up the staircase.
“It’s fun getting all dressed up.”
“Well, that’s the difference between you and me.” Amanda felt stiff and plastic in formal wear, not to mention heavy makeup and hairspray. Her expression would go tight, and even her voice would go formal. She felt as if she was making people dig through layers to get to the real her.
“So, are you going to kiss him again?” asked Karen.
“I hadn’t thought about it.” Now that was a lie. She’d fantasized about kissing, kissing and more kissing in the days since Friday.
“Well think about it.”
They entered one of the spare bedrooms, and Karen opened the double doors of a walk-in closet.
“Okay. I’m going to sit down here and get comfortable,” she said. “And I want you to give me a fashion show and a monologue on kissing your ex-husband.”
Amanda laughed. “It was a short kiss.”
“But a good one?” asked Karen, easing down into an armchair and putting her feet on the matching ottoman.
Amanda let her mind go back for the thousandth time. “A good one,” she agreed. A very good one. An “I think I remember why I married you” good one.
“You should see the expression on your face,” Karen clucked.
“I just wish I could figure it out,” Amanda called as she entered the closet. “I mean, we’re divorced. We’re living completely different lives.”
“Maybe he’s just after your body.”
Amanda leaned back out the door. “Hello? After Sharon?”
“Especially after Sharon. That woman might look good in pictures, but believe me, up close it’s all makeup, Botox and putty filler.”
Amanda choked out a laugh.
Karen laughed along with her. “She’s frightening, particularly when she starts talking. You, on the other hand, get more gorgeous by the minute.”
Amanda didn’t believe her, but Karen was a very kind friend.
“Now,” said Karen, “we are going to knock that man dead with a sexy dress.”
“I’m not sure I can pull off sexy,” said Amanda.
“Don’t be silly. You can do sexy with one hand behind your back.”
Even if she could pull it off, she wouldn’t. “If I go out there all vamped up, you know what he’s going to think.”
“What’s he going to think?”
Amanda frowned at Karen. “That I’m…you know…interested in him.”
“You are interested in him.”
“Not as a boyfriend.”
“As what then?”
Amanda peeled off her blouse. She sighed. “Isn’t that the million-dollar question.”
“He can be your clandestine lover,” said Karen.
“A secret affair? With Daniel?”
“It’s not like you’ve never slept with him before,” Karen said.
Amanda rolled her eyes.
Karen laughed. “May I assume it was good?”
“Of course it was good.” Amanda peeled off her pants and laid them on the bed.
Sex had never been the issue in their marriage. The issues had been Daniel’s overbearing family, his drive to make money and his unrelenting pretension.
In the early years, they’d had something real, and it had broken her heart to watch it slowly slip away as Daniel retreated further and further into the shell of propriety. But the sex, ah, the sex…
“So, the sex was good but the marriage went bad?” asked Karen.
Amanda stepped into the closet again. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“You could have the best of both worlds,” Karen called. “Sleep with the good lover, but live apart from the bad husband.”
“That’s—” Amanda stopped. She walked back to the closet door and stared at Karen. It was either crazy, or a pretty good idea.
“It is the twenty-first century,” said Karen.
Daniel as a lover, and only a lover?
He’d already promised to back off on the career advice, so she wouldn’t have to endure any more lectures. Could she really take advantage of his strengths and simply ignore his weaknesses?
“You are going to need one special dress,” said Karen with a knowing wink.
Amanda couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about this just wasn’t quite right.
“I couldn’t…” she began.
“Actually,” said Karen, “you could. It’s not illegal, immoral or unhealthy.”
The Elliotts’ housekeeper appeared in the doorway. “Do you ladies need anything?”
“Yes, Olive. We need champagne and orange juice,” said Karen decisively. “We’re celebrating.”
“Are you allowed?” asked Amanda.
“In moderation,” said Karen.
“I’ll bring it right up,” said Olive, exiting the room.
Karen pointed imperiously to the closet. “I want you to start with the dresses you’d be least likely to wear in public.”
Amanda strolled into the museum fund-raiser in a black sheath of oriental silk.
Sleeveless, it had a mandarin collar that eliminated the need for jewelry, and it was slit up the back for easy walking. A floral silkscreen of gold and pink cascaded diagonally across the front.
One of Scarlet’s designs, it was a compromise with Karen—elegant but not overly flirtatious.
Scarlet had insisted on a thin golden anklet that winked when Amanda walked and complemented her strappy sandals. The heels were higher than she normally wore, but Daniel gave her a steady arm to hang on to.
As they entered through an ornate archway, she took in flamboyant floral arrangements and chandeliers dripping with crystal teardrops. The ceiling beams were white with inlayed gold. Perimeter tables were immaculately set and a circular dance floor gleamed in the center of the room.
Cinderella’s ball had nothing on this place.
Then she spotted Patrick and Maeve. Her stomach clenched and she stumbled a step. “You didn’t tell me your parents were going to be here,” she whispered to Daniel, feeling eighteen and impossibly gauche all over again.
“Is that a problem?” he whispered back.
“Yes, it’s a problem,” she hissed.
“Why?”
What a question. “Because they don’t like me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
She slowed. The glitz, glitter and orchestra music were suddenly making her claustrophobic. She didn’t belong here. She’d never belonged here.
She needed to proposition Daniel and get out.
“Daniel, darling.” A sixtyish woman dripping in sequins and wearing enough diamonds to cancel the national debt gave Daniel a kiss on each cheek.
Daniel smiled and clasped her papery hand. “Mrs. Cavalli.”
“I saw your mother at the Humane Society quilt raffle last week.”
“I heard it went well,” said Daniel with an easy interest.
“It did.” Mrs. Cavalli’s gaze strayed to Amanda.
