AllFreeNovel
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Owning a clothing store, the first thing I notice is someone’s appearance. Holly has on a vintage red dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline. The collar is white with red polka dots and the same fabric is inset in the pleats of the skirt. Her unique throwback style is as enviable as Sloan’s is posh and Kimber’s is on-trend.
“Paisley, Cary and I got an invitation to the annual hospital gala. Will you and Jake be there?” she asks.
I forget for a moment that the three ladies have been pleasant all evening. They’ve unwittingly welcomed me into the fold, accepting me,erus, the way Jake and I need them to. Still, I worry about saying something wrong that will make them dislike the Paisley I was before Jake entered the picture.
Although I’m not in a rush to answer, anxiety makes me speed up chewing on the forkful of grilled asparagus.
So far the questions directed my way have stayed pleasant.
“How’s the shop?”
“Have you seen Greer lately?”
And my absolute fave from Sloan, which always starts with,“Can I special order?
To which I want to scream like I’m having an amazing orgasm,“Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!”
From the outside, Holly’s question is innocent enough. But I should’ve expected the mill girls to put the squeeze on Jake’s and my romantic entanglement sooner or later.
Jake, who removed his hand from my knee when the waiter served the entrees, turns away from where Holly sits at the far side of the table. He wipes his mouth on the linen napkin, places it back in his lap, and puts his hand where it rested while drinking cocktails. We swallow in unison; me thinking on my feet as Jake’s pinching stare makes me feel like I’ve gone and done something horribly wrong.
“I actually just found mine,” I lie. “It had to have slipped out of the stack of mail and… Well, long story short, with so much upheaval I’d forgotten the gala was coming up, so Jake and I haven’t compared calendars.”
I smile at Jake, playing my part in this charade. While I’m certain he’s aware I’m fibbing, softness washes over the usual stoicism. His flat brows that never give away a hint of incredulity relax. I wouldn’t have noticed the slight change in his features had I not spent so much time with him recently.
“I hope you can make it,” Holly chimes back in. “This is my first year, obviously. But Sloan’s been invited a bunch of times.”
“I go every year,” I say for Jake’s benefit, though skipping the back-tie soiree this year is much more palatable.
My mother invited me as a stand-in the first time I attended. My father was sick. The following year, the hospital held the event in honor of my dad. And the year after that, one of my dad’s colleagues introduced me to Gavin. Which means Gavin will be there.
It’s already proving impossible to avoid the things my ex-fiancé and I did together for the rest of my life. But how do I walk into the ballroom with my head held high? How would I feel if Gavin brought a date, flaunting another woman in front of a crowd of my colleagues so close to our breakup?
“Carver sends his regrets when our invite comes,” Sloan tells Holly.
“They don’t miss us as much as they’d miss our donation to the cardiology research center,” Carver cuts in. “But where your friends expect they are going, we can as well.”
The food in my stomach rolls, and a sour taste fills my mouth.
The men seated around us at the table would do anything for their wives. Gavin would have, too… mostly. His department at the hospital needs that money. There are times I felt like Gavin’s arm candy. That my presence sweetened the deal right before donors pulled out their checkbooks. However, there are patients depending on the generosity of others toward cardiac research.
Going will make my mother happy. It will make Holly happy. I’ll be happier if Carver attends and his contribution is larger than usual, which is awful to admit but entirely honest. But will Jake consenting to go for my sake, the way I’ve envied while watching his friends dote on their wives, make Jake happy? Or would Jake decide to go to one-up Gavin? Or worse, for a bigger opportunity to line his pockets by sniffing out dirt on Gavin’s colleagues?
“Paisley?” Jake looks at me like I’ve missed something someone has said.
“We’ll go if you’re free,” I blurt, all of a sudden feeling more caged than a captive animal. “I ah—If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to powder my nose!”
Jake stands along with me. His mammoth knuckles brush against my arm. “Corazón?” His voice is low, trying to deflect attention from my wild proclamation.
My yelp sounded too loud to me, too. Pretending I’m not creating a scene is stupid to attempt. He’s a freaking Viking and I’m akin to something you pluck out of the heather by its wings while chasing after a pot of gold. We’re like night and day in human form. As subtle as a carnie sideshow exhibit. The lawbreaker and the good girl.Formergood girl.
“I’m fine.” My voice wavers with false bravado. I bring a hand to my throat. The back of my neck is sweating.
“I’m going as well.” Kimber winks in Jake’s direction, following me towards the ladies’ room when I’d rather be alone.
Locking myself into a stall and leaning back against the floor-to-ceiling walls, I take a moment to recover in the bougie water closet. I find three solid things; the tiles, the awkward industrial toilet tissue roll, and the rounded lip of the wainscoting. Then three colors; porcelain white, the terracotta under my coral rose high heels, and the rich mahogany staining the wood. I control my breathing and let my lungs settle from the sharp pattern that stopped me from getting any oxygen.
I stand glued in place until I hear a flush and the sound of the door swinging on its hinges. Sloan’s voice combines with Kimber’s in friendly, idle chit-chat. I wait another minute with my ears perked before pretending that I’ve finished.
