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Jamie stood up and wandered over toward me.
Inside were suits and dress shoes, hung up neatly and looking immaculate under the soft halogen bulb. And on the other side of the walk-in closet were dresses. Hundreds of dresses.
“I’m sure there’s something here that’s in your size,” I said.
Inthehelicopterthemood was tense, and as we touched down on top of the Grand Hotel, I felt sure that Jamie would perk up.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Terrible. Obviously.”
“Come on,” I said. “Is it so bad that people think we’re engaged?”
“Yes! It’s about the worst thing that could happen to me, Eric.”
“Why?”
“I work for you. People are going to think I’m sleeping with my boss.”
“Aren’t you?” I replied innocently as we stepped off the helicopter. “Hey, you remember this place?”
Jamie smirked. How could she forget? This was where she was staying when we first hooked up all those years ago.
It was the first time I saw her smile since she rushed into my office this evening, and I was happy she felt comfortable enough to smile with me.
“Hey,” I growled. “Come here, beautiful.”
In the sexy silver gown Jamie had picked out and the pair of dark Prada heels, she looked good enough to eat. She leaned toward me and I kissed her softly, gently, wanting her to feel reassured.
“Not for nothing,” I said. “But if I was getting engaged to you? I’d be one lucky man.”
Jamie blushed, and I savored it. And for a moment, I felt caught up in a flight of fancy. What if we did get engaged? It would solve all of our problems. Cassie would be my daughter. Jamie would be my wife. And I wondered how she felt about that.
Was it the worst thing in the world?
Or was it simply a dream too wonderful to be true?
We went through a door on the roof and rode the elevator down to the ballroom. The whole way down, I held Jamie’s hand, and she squeezed it for reassurance. This situation worried me just as much as it did her. But I knew that if I could be strong, and support her through it, then she’d be okay.
She’d see the truth. That we were always meant to be together. That is, if we could only be honest about Cassie and find a way to tell Tom, there would be no barriers left unturned.
The door slid open, and we stepped down the dark wooden corridor. Ahead of us, I could hear the sounds of the ballroom, glasses chinking, people talking. At the entrance to the ballroom, the Master of Ceremonies stood by the door, in a black bow tie and tails.
I pulled out the invitation from my pocket, an elegant piece of white card. “Mr. Eric Slade, you are cordially invited to the annual ball of the Society for the Preservation of…” I hardly had time to read what particular cause I was supporting this evening. But it didn’t matter. These things were always the same and caused me no end of tedium.
Only with Jamie, it felt almost … good … to be here.
“Mr. Slade,” said the MC politely, taking my card. “So good to see you again. And this must be your fiancée, Miss Janet Reed.
“Janet?” I said curiously, looking at Jamie.
“That’s my name,” she said. “My real name. But Jamie is fine,” she said to the MC, who nodded.
“My apologies, Miss Reed. I’m afraid you’ve missed the banquet, Mr. Slade.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I’m on a fast day. Are you hungry, Jamie?”
“No,” Jamie said. She was still pale from the conversation we had back at my office.
