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The idea of going to Veranda 62 with Noah had elated her so much—especially the absolute happiness that had lit his face when she’d said yes—that she’d been too swept away in the romance to let pesky little things like reality get her down. Reality, however, had slapped her in the face the night before when she realized she had absolutely nothing appropriate to wear to an upscale place like that.
If she and Noah stayed together, she would seriously need to up her wardrobe game.
“Okay.” Head cocked to the side, Gwen leaned a hip on Emma’s desk. “If you’re just going dress shopping, then why so serious and gloomy?”
“Because this dress needs to be positively spectacular.” And likely stupidly expensive, and she hated the idea of throwing away money on something she’d probably only wear once. But how could she not go all out? Tonight would be the first time the world would see her with Noah. They’d be judging her no matter what, so she might as well look her best.
“How spectacular are we talking here?” Gwen asked.
“Think prom but with fewer sequins and glitter.”
“Ooh, color me intrigued and hit me with the deets.”
“No.”
“Come on, Emma! Spill! Where are you going that requires such head-turning threads? Because that’s what you’re going for, right? Head-turning.”
“I plead the Fifth.”
“Okay, now Ihaveto know. Where are you going?”
“Please refer back to my previous comment.”
A smile split Gwen’s face as if every lightbulb on the planet had simultaneously gone off in her head. “O.M.G., you’re dating someone, and he’s taking you out somewhere fancy! That must be it. Oh, please, tell me that’s it.Pleeeeeeease.”
Emma tried to formulate a response to send Gwen down a rabbit hole, but she took too much time preparing her answer.
“Thatisit. Yea. You’re dating someone!” Gwen danced a triumphant little jig before plopping into one of the chairs opposite Emma. “Where’s Mr. Mysterious taking you?”
“Go away, Gwen,” Emma said, but at least she was laughing now.
“Hmm. I haven’t heard of that place. Is it new?”
“Shut up.”
“Haven’t heard of that one, either.”
Emma looked heavenward. She had to rein in her secretary and impress upon her the importance of keeping this contained for a while longer. “Can’t I just tell you I’ll be going somewhere tonight with someone very special, and later, I’ll open up?”
Gwen gave Emma her adorable trademark pout.
“I need time, Gwen, okay? This relationship is still new and tenuous, so I don’t want to jinx things.”
“Fine. I’ll give you some time, but like, are we talking Monday or like a month from Monday?”
Emma shrugged.
“You’re killing me, Lady Boss!” Gwen slumped into her seat and gave her best bereaved southern belle impersonation, which was positively hilarious when paired with her plaid skirt, black top, and black knee boots—to say nothing of the fishnet stockings or red tips in her hair. The woman never seemed to settle on a hair color.
“I’ll spill,” Emma said. “When I’m ready. That’s the best I can do.”
“Fine.” After one last pout that even Scarlett O’Hara would be proud of, Gwen righted herself. “Of course, that doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna hound you every day for those deets.”
“I expect nothing less from you. Now, go away. I need to summon the will to go shopping.”
“Oh, did someone say shopping?”
Emma’s gaze snapped up as Esme strode into the room, making Emma’s entire office simply dazzle. She wore a deep-blue sleeveless dress that was fitted at the waist. She’d paired the dress with a long strand of pearls worn in lariat fashion.
