Page 88 of Miss Understanding

Perhaps he thought he should be taking someone like Tabitha instead of a girl who was still finishing her degree. Too bad. “I’d be honored to go.”

Phil appeared pleased with my answer. That made one of them. Although Liam had his icy poker face in place, I could definitely say he wasn’t pleased.

“Excellent.” Phil then turned toward my boss. “If you have a few minutes, Liam, I have a number of things to discuss with you.”

“Certainly.” He didn’t give me another glance as they went into his office.

Liam said nothing to me for the rest of the day. The only thing I knew was the party started at seven tomorrow night.

After class, I went home and tried to enlist the help of Chloe with the one problem I could manage. A dress. Unfortunately, she wasn’t my size even if she’d had something formal to wear to a black-tie event.

“Can you hit the thrift shop tomorrow?”

“I’ll be cutting it close, but I can go during lunch.” The secondhand store I frequented was in Hollywood, and I could take the subway there, but I’d still have to find something my size. Here was hoping the dress gods were with me tomorrow.

“Your hot boss picking you up for the date?” Chloe asked.

“A driver is picking me up from the office. As much as I hate the idea of getting ready for a fancy event at work, I won’t have time to come all the way home, then try to drive in rush hour traffic to the party in Hollywood. I believe Liam is leaving from the office, too, although he hasn’t confirmed. In any case, it’s not a date.” I tried not to let that bother me. But I was quickly finding out it was starting to. Maybe because he seemed weird about it. As if I had somehow gotten myself invited on purpose. As if he was uncomfortable with me being a part of his world. Hadn’t he told me I’d rocked Stephen Walsh’s test? So then, why was he being a jerk about it now?

“I’ll tell everyone at the club that you’re almost better, but won’t be in tomorrow. I think they appreciate you not wanting to infect anyone,” Chloe offered.

“Thank you.” At least I had a plausible reason for missing work. Still, I felt bad they’d be short-staffed. I’d missed more days in the last month than I had in the whole two years I’d worked there. A small part of me was tempted to back out of the party. Maybe this was more trouble than it was worth. Yet I found myself curious as to why Stephen Walsh had asked for me specifically.

“How can you say it’s not a date?”

“I mean it’s a work function. And we’re not telling people we’re together. Not that we are together. We’re just— I don’t know.”

“Did he do anything for Valentine’s Day for you?”

I stared down at my hands before looking up at her again. “He’s not my boyfriend, so I didn’t expect anything.”

She offered me a sad smile. “Does it mean you’ll be okay with him not doing anything for your birthday next month, too?”

To be fair, I doubted he knew my birthday was in March. “Probably not.”

She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to see you get hurt. He does seem to genuinely feel something for you. You could see it by the way he took care of you when you were sick. I guess the question is if it’s enough for you?”

It was the question indeed.

* * *

On Friday, during my lunch hour, I took the subway to my destination, praying I’d find a dress at a reasonable price for tonight’s swanky dinner. I’d brought in my black and my nude pumps, and also some silver sandals, hoping whatever I picked out would match. At least Chloe had helped me figure out what I’d be doing with my hair. The benefit of having long hair was it went up without a lot of fuss.

I was grateful there were no other customers at the secondhand shop when I walked in. “Hi,” I said to the older woman at the front desk.

“Hello, dear, how can I help you?”

“I’m hoping you might have a dress in my size. One for a black-tie event tonight.”

“We have lots of beautiful gowns. The upside of being in Hollywood. What size are you?”

“I’m a four, but I’m short and have a generous bottom half, which means sometimes I have trouble finding things that fit properly.”

“Ah. I think I may have the thing if you’re okay with showing a bit of skin.”

I wasn’t sure having my lack of cleavage on display would be a good idea, but as soon as she walked over and pulled a silver dress off the rack, I knew it was the one. It was pure Hollywood glamour with thousands of crystals strewn into the bodice. It was beautiful, but once she turned it around and I saw the back, I knew I had to have it. Holy shit. The back took this dress to another level. It was scooped out to show, as she’d said, a lot of skin, but it was the draping back jewels which really set it off. It was both sexy and sophisticated. The question was would it fit?

Five minutes later in the dressing room, I discovered it fit like a glove. And it was the perfect length, so I wouldn’t have to hem it up like I had to do with most dresses given my short height.