My backpack.
If I walk onto that boat dressed like this, I am going to look like an idiot.
Worse, I think I’ll embarrass Tripp. That would kill me.
What am I going to do? Call him and explain that something came up and I can’t make it to the party? Or can I improvise? There are high-end stores in the resort, and I know the girls who work in them. Maybe I can borrow something for the night?
It’s worth a try.
Before I turn away from the spectacular sight of beautiful people dancing on a pristine yacht, I catch sight of Tripp. He walks to the railing of his boat and leans forward on his forearms, scanning the dock for me. When he doesn’t see me, he paces away and comes back, looking down at his phone, visibly stressed. A girl comes up to him and tugs on his sleeve, trying to get his attention, but he just shakes his head, ignoring her.
Not wanting him to think I’m standing him up, I take my phone out of my backpack and tap the screen a few times, listening to it ring in my ear. Tripp sees I’m calling and almost collapses with relief.
“Angel,” he breathes down the line. “Where are you? I’m going crazy.”
My heart turns over. “I’m sorry, I know I’m late. I got held up.”
“Please tell me you’re still coming.”
“I am. I just need…”Please let my plan work.“Twenty minutes or so.”
“Twenty?” He drags a handful of fingers through his hair. “Can I come get you? Or send my driver? It’s getting too dark to ride your bike.”
“I’m fine, I promise. I’ll be there soon.”
I hang up and rush into the darkness, taking the stairs up to the resort two at a time. Relief assails me when I reach the boutique just before it closes, skidding inside and imploring my friend Amy to give me the Cinderella treatment.
“Is this about a boy?” she asks with a knowing smirk.
“Yes,” I admit, chewing my lip. “I need to look like I belong on a yacht.”
“Oh, honey.” She spreads her arms open to indicate the myriad of racks laden with designer brands. “That’s what we specialize in.”
Fifteen minutes later, after promising Amy that I’ll reattach the three-thousand-dollar price tag tomorrow, I speed walk through the lobby of the resort, where—thankfully—no one recognizes me, and make my way back down to the docks, my backpack dangling from my fingers.
I exercise caution when crossing the uneven planks of the dock because, this time, I’m wearing a pair of black Louboutin heels that customers in the boutique use to try on clothes. I was assured they pair perfectly with the smoky mauve corset dress I’m wearing. While I was zipping up the mini dress, Amy applied a lip stain to my mouth and pinned back some of my hair with a clip. I barely got a chance to look in the mirror before I left the shop, but what I saw looked good…I think.
Enough not to stand out like a sore thumb?
Tripp is still leaning on the edge of the yacht in the same place I left him, but he sees me now and straightens slowly, his jaw unhinging.
“Vida?”
“Hey,” I call up to him, suddenly self-conscious. “Do you have room for one more?”
He points at me. “Do not move. I’m coming down there to get you.”
“I know how to board a ship,” I laugh.
“We’re walking in together. I need everyone to know you’re with me. Don’t move.” He disappears from view while I stand grinning on the dock, appearing seconds later on the lowered walkway leading onto the yacht. And my goodness, in a loose pair of stone-colored chinos, a loose black button-down, and windblown hair, he’s the sexiest man alive. It’s no contest. “What are you doing to me in that dress?”
“You…like it?”
Hot eyes slide down the front of me, lingering on my legs, then breasts. “Words don’t fail me very often, but they’re failing me right now. You’re…resplendent.”
“Wow.” I duck my head to hide a blush. “Putting that Ivy League education to good use.”
He flashes a quick grin, but it dims in degrees as he reaches out to me, tracing the curve of my cheek with his index finger. “You know, you could have worn jeans and a T-shirt and you would have been perfect. You didn’t have to dress up.”
