Page 71 of I Saw You First

“Pajamas, takeout from La Cuchara, and Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.”

“Absolutely not. I forbid it. I’ve got something a million times better. I scored the last two golden tickets to the store table at the Hometown League gala tonight!”

“Ooh, I’ve heard about that.” Hometown Electronics is one of the sponsors for the Hometown League fundraiser. Somehow, Dex the Inventory Troll got the Woodlake tickets. “How did you get the tickets?”

“Our GM was supposed to go, but his wife went into labor, and I happened to answer the call.”

“Lucky!”

“I’ll pick you up. Wear something fancy!”

If Cesar wants fancy, he’s going to get fancy.

The fanciest dress I own is the one I wore as a bridesmaid for my cousin Sloane’s wedding, a deep-green, 40s-style gown with a long skirt that’s perfect for New Year’s Eve at the swanky Starlight Ballroom, a legendary Twin Cities music venue and dance hall. I stop by Glamma’s on the way home to borrow a faux-fur stole and a rhinestone clip to sweep up one side of my hair. At the apartment, I shower, shave my legs, dust my entire body with bronzer, and squeeze back into the dress I swore I’d never wear again.

Cesar springs for valet parking and we walk into the lobby. It’s like stepping back in time: plush red carpet, dark, elaborate woodwork, and enormous, dazzling crystal chandeliers.

“Wow,” I say as I spin around.

“May I take your… fur?” Cesar asks. “I know I usually lean toward fabulous at all times, but please tell me that thing wasn’t alive once.”

“I’m not sure my grandmother could afford real fur, but I honestly don’t think she would have worn it even if she could have.”

“Thank Gucci.” He blows out a breath. “I was afraid someone would throw blood at us. I’ll check it for you.”

He slips it off my shoulders, whistling at the deep neckline of the dress that the stole had covered. Thank Gucci for push-up bras.

“Vavavavoom,” he says. “Wait here and then we’ll go find the others.”

I spin in a circle again to take in the grandeur of the space. And then I see Wil. In a tuxedo. And he has somehow tamed his hair. Like James fucking Bond. He puts this lobby to shame.

I can’t look at him, especially if he’s here with a date. Wil like this, looking so handsome and delicious for someone else, might send me over the edge.

So. I will not look at him.

I can feel his eyes burning through me, though. I flick mine in his direction, and yes, he’s looking. His eyes travel up my body, taking in every detail: the plunging sweetheart neckline and pushed-up boobs, my shoulder blades, my lips, and then… his eyes meet mine and they’re on fire. I feel the swizzle everywhere, in my fuzzy brain, my tingling fingers, low in my belly, and lower. I suck in a breath. I can’t take my eyes off him drinking me in.

“Abbey, I barely recognized you,” Crystal says. I snap my gaze from Wil to her. She’s frowning, as usual. “Did I see you had a fur cape? Is it real?”

I open my mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Cesar saves me.

“Isn’t her gown fabulous?” He lifts a bit of the skirt. “This chiffon overlay is to die for.”

He hands me my claim ticket, and I tuck it into the small, beaded purse I also borrowed from Glamma. He then offers his arm and escorts me into the main ballroom as Wil walks in the opposite direction toward the bar without a word to any of us.

Our table is close to the dance floor and the stage where Ducky Donahue and His Prime-Time Orchestra are dressed in pale blue tuxedos, their hair in swooping pompadours. A woman in a matching pale blue dress, similar in style to mine, her hair in long waves and her arms and clavicle covered in colorful tattoos, stands at a retro silver microphone singing “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm.” Glamma would love this.

Cesar and I hit the dance floor and even though it’s not the same kind of crowd I’m used to on New Year’s Eve, it’s better than sitting alone on the couch in my pajamas with a box of stale Cheez-Its and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. Cesar keeps me laughing as he shimmies and moves to the swing-style classics, even attempting to dip me once or twice, which proves to be difficult because I’m about four inches taller.

I’ve laughed harder on this dance floor with Cesar than I have in weeks. “I’ve missed you!” I say after the music slows with a rendition of “Some Enchanted Evening” and he puts one hand on my waist and takes the other in his. “I can’t believe I survived the holidays without you and Aurora.”

“Survived and thrived,” he says. “Promise me, when you get your own store, you’ll remember us little people?”

“Ha ha.” I grin.

My smile drops as Wil steps up behind Cesar and taps him on the shoulder.

“May I cut in?” he asks.