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“Yeah?”
“It’s time to go shopping for a dress for the gala.”
“Bloomingdales?” She’d always dreamed about shopping at the famous store, so this would be fun.
“Bloomingdales doesn’t sell Stella Rose dresses,” he said in a casual voice, but his eyes sparkled with excitement.
Colleen almost tripped over her feet. “Stella Rose? The famous fashion designer?”
He placed his finger under Colleen’s chin to close her mouth. “Yeah. She was a good friend to my mom.”
“Wow. I don’t know, Finn. Dresses like that cost a fortune. I’ll find a consignment shop in the Village.” For years she’d shopped at consignment shops in LA, buying beautiful clothes for a fraction of their original price.
“Let me worry about the cost. I’ll set up an appointment for you.”
“The gala is a big deal, isn’t it?”
“It is. It’s also important for my career. The president of the board of directors is an uptight asshole, but he holds a lot of influence over my promotion. So, I have to make a good impression. He also hates my father and I have to earn his trust.”
“Okay. I’ll do everything I can to be the best date ever.”
Whoever the board president was, Finn definitely wasn’t looking forward to it. “I’ll keep myself busy today. This idea might lead to something, but I’ve still got a lot of work to do.”
“I can’t wait to hear about it,” Finn said. “What are you going to do while I’m gone?”
“I’ll take Alfie for a walk, finish up this research, and I was thinking of meeting Ana and Sean for lunch.”
He stroked his fingers against her cheek and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to think about you all day.” His voice was positively sinful.
She tilted her head. “You make that sound nasty.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” he said, looking her over.
A rush of heat ran through her body. Maybe she was overthinking his concern about her past history, after all.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said, giving her a deep kiss.
Colleen closed the door and leaned against it. Home. It was Finn’s home, but she wanted to stay with him. She took a deep breath and headed to the kitchen for more coffee.
After another couple of hours on the computer, Colleen spoke with the tour coordinator of the Met Museum about the possibility of doing private tours. “Thank you, Ms. Drake. I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. I’ll be sure to fill out the private tour request form.” Colleen ended the call. “Yes!” she shouted, pumping a fist in the air.
She pulled out the business card Kayla had given her and called the number.
“Hi Kayla,” she said when the woman answered. “My name is Colleen Murphy and a few days ago you asked me if I would give a private tour for your bachelorette party.”
“I remember. Can you do it?”
“I sure can,” Colleen said with confidence.
“I’m so glad,” Kayla said, her voice excited. “Oh my God. I forgot to ask how much the tour costs.”
“Since this is my first tour, it’s on me. But I’ll be happy to accept a tip.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I have your card, so I’ll send you my contact info and you can give me some dates. Sound good?”
“That sounds great. The wedding is in a few months, so I’ll probably aim for a week or two before the wedding. I’ll send you the exact dates soon. I can’t wait.”
