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Wes looked around. “It’s your attic,” he said. “I guess you’d have more of an idea what we’re looking at? And youarethe boss now.” He smiled to soften his words, but my heart sank.
It was a role I really didn’t want, and especially not under these circumstances.
I just wanted someone else to take on the responsibility and the baggage for a while. But there wasn’t anyone else.
“Okay.” I dusted my hands together like I actually knew what I was doing. “Then I think we need to sort through this first and take stock. See if we can get some sort of system or organization going here. Hopefully Charmaine already had a handle on some of that.”
Probably Dad had understood everything here, but Wes and I needed to familiarize ourselves with what we were looking at. And I’d seen his office. His idea of organization closely mirrored my idea of chaos.
Wes nodded. “Yes, boss.”
I pulled a face at him and gestured to where he sat. “Then let’s start with that crate. Looks like a new one to me.”
We spent the next few hours sorting files and paperwork. It was much more far-reaching than I’d expected, and we hadn’t even opened anything before my phone buzzed.
I reached for it and turned it over so I could see the screen.
“Oh, shit.”
“What is it?” Wes stopped what he was doing.
“Have you seen the time?” I turned my phone so he could see the message from Charmaine. “She wants to know what time we’re going to be at Clover’s. We’re already late.”
“Oh, shit,” Wes agreed. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.” He sat back before stacking the paperwork in much neater pile back into the box. “You’re going to point me toward your old closet before going to take a shower. We can turn this around, and you, Cinderella,shallgo to the ball.”
“My old closet?” I wrinkled my nose. “I haven’t gotten dressed out of that thing since I left home. I don’t even know if there’s still any clothes left in it, or if Mom had them all packed up.”
“What other options do we have?” He didn’t wait for my response. “We’re in a pinch and we’re running late.”
“True.” I stood. “Okay, come downstairs.”
I didn’t even have time to savor the incredible water pressure my parents enjoyed at their house. My head was buzzing with the idea I was running late to meet Patr — Charmaine. I was running late to meet Charmaine, and I hated tardiness.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped an over-sized towel around myself before entering my bedroom.
Wes spun from my closet, a silver scrap of fabric over his arm.
“Oh, God.” The words sprang from my lips as I took instant stock of the situation, and he smiled an apology my way.
“It was all I could find.”
“Really?” I eyed the fabric again.
“At least try it on? We don’t have many options, unless you want to turn up looking like a southern belle being presented to society.”
I twisted my lips before grimacing. I remembered that short-lived period when Mom had insisted on ruffles and everything frou-frou, and the silver slip of nothing Wes currently held was my answering rebellion.
“Okay.” I sighed. “Hand it over.” I disappeared back into the bathroom, threw on my underwear, and dragged the dress over my still-damp skin.
Wes eyed me critically when I re-emerged. “Okay. So it’s maybe about two inches too short.”
I rolled my eyes and tugged at the hem as he motioned that I needed to twirl so he could see me from all angles.
“It’s also pretty tight. But not in a bad way.” He grinned. “In fact, I think you only need to lose the panties to get rid of VPL and then you’re good to go.” He nodded. “Yeah, commando is definitely the way forward.”
“Really?” My voice was little more than a squeak.
“Just don’t bend over.” He grinned.
