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“A rake, my dear boy, and you’d better cover that smile. There’s no need to look so proud about it.”
“I only think it’s funny that you have me pegged so incorrectly.”
“Tell me where I’m wrong and I’ll gladly eat crow.”
“I care for your granddaughter.”
She rolls her eyes as if she doesn’t believe me, and I decide I might find better success with a different approach.
“Did you marry Lainey’s grandfather because you loved him or because it was expected of you?”
Her shoulders stiffen. “It was a different time…”
I sit quietly, making it clear she hasn’t answered my question.
She continues impatiently. “My marriage was arranged, and to be frank, it was the last thing I wanted, but I placed duty above self-interest, and I have no regrets about that.”
“I respect that, but I could never do the same.”
“Marry someone you didn’t love?”
I balk at the idea. “Never.”
“So that was the issue with your betrothal to Lainey?”
“Not at all.”
She frowns then, annoyance evident across her face.
“Stop circling the truth and spit it out.”
“I think it would be best if I spoke to Lainey first.” I stand up and apologize for the quick visit.
Jacobs hasn’t even returned with the coffees, but if Lainey isn’t here, I see no reason to stay.
“Please tell her I stopped by.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lainey
It’s New Year’s Eve, and Collette’s invited me to a party, mostly out of pity. I’ve been sulking at the gallery all day, and she assumes I’ve hit a rough patch with Emmett. I can’t bear to tell her the actual truth of what’s going on, not that it matters; her guess is close enough. We’ve definitely hit a rough patch. My grandmother told me about his morning visit, and it only infuriated me more. He had every opportunity to come talk to me for months before that.
“I know you’re about to say no,” Collette says, holding up her hand to stop me from answering right away. “But it’s going to be low key, just friends and a few others you’d probably recognize. We rented out this swanky little bar and it’ll be packed to the gills, so if there’s someone you’re trying to avoid, I bet you wouldn’t even see him. There’ll be enough strangers there that you could totally stay anonymous if you wanted to, you know, pretend to be someone else for a night.”
“I have nothing to wear.”
She tips her face down so she can stare at me from beneath her brows, thoroughly unimpressed with the lack of creativity in my excuse.
“We live in Boston. There are like ten boutiques on this block alone.”
“Still, I don’t know when I—”
“We’ll go at lunch.”
I clasp my hands on top of the counter. I had plans to watch the ball drop in the comfort of my home, dressed in pajamas and slippers, but this sounds infinitely more fun.
“Okay.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“What?”
I laugh. “Okay, I’ll go.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. I’ll find a dress at lunch.”
“I’ll help!”
True to her word, Collette accompanies me to every single boutique within a mile radius of Morgan’s during our lunch break. Most of them don’t have anything appropriate for New Year’s Eve, AKA slinky, sexy, sparkly, and fun. We luck out at the final shop though. They have a killer white sequined mini dress that I buy straight off the mannequin without even trying it on because we have to book it back to Morgan’s for a 1 PM meeting.
At the end of the work day, Collette doesn’t let me make my escape.
“I know you. You’ll go home and lose steam and then I’ll be receiving one of those lame, ‘Sorry, change of plans. Staying in tonight’ texts. No. Consider me your fairy fucking godmother. Let’s go. When I was supposed to be sending emails this afternoon, I was actually booking us appointments to get our hair and makeup done, and if we’re fast, we can eat at this little sushi place around the corner first.”
Okay then. Who am I to argue with that?
The evening passes exactly as Collette had planned, and at 9:30 PM, I lock myself in her bathroom to change for the party. I take off my work clothes and fold them neatly, then I unzip the dress. There are built-in cups, which is nice because I definitely didn’t wear the right bra for it. I step in and gently tug it up, panicking slightly as I feel the hem hit just beneath the tops of my thighs.
“Uhh…Collette,” I say, my voice already wobbly. “This might not work.”
I reach around to zip it up, hoping that by some miracle, I’ll get more length from the dress once it’s situated on me correctly. I don’t. The bodycon fit hugs my curves, the strapless neckline accentuates my cleavage, and the subtle sequins shimmer in the light.
“How is it?”
“Umm…”
I open the door for her to see it herself.
