Chapter Eight

Ella

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Molly asked.

“Because that’s just…. you can’t be serious.”

“I’m absolutely serious. Do you have another plan?”

I didn’t, but I was scrambling trying to come up with anything that was going to mean that I didn’t have to go along with the ridiculousness that my sister was presenting to me at that moment.

“I can’t just put on somebody else’s dress and waltz into the party pretending that I’m supposed to be there.”

“Sure, you can. But don’t waltz. I don’t think that there’s dancing.”

I rolled my lips in and let out a long breath.

“Molly, I’ve already stolen a silver picture frame today. I can’t steal a dress, too.”

“I’m not asking you to steal the dress, Ella. You’re just borrowing it. It was in Aaron’s dry cleaning when I picked it up and I just haven’t gotten a chance to bring it back. I’m sure that it’ll fit you. You’ll just wear it long enough to get the frame back in place, and then you come back here. That’s it.”

“You promised me that I wasn’t going to have to try to fit in,” I pointed out.

“Well, you didn’t promise me that you weren’t going to take anything from the apartment, but that didn’t go as planned, either, did it?”

I groaned.

“Can’t you do it? You’re much more comfortable there than I am, and you could scope out your next rich guy for when Aaron fires you.”

“Flattering. Thank you for that. No. I’m not going to do it for you. You’re the one who got yourself into this. Besides, there’s no way that dress would fit me. I’ve got about four too many inches and a little bit extra of everything else.”

That comment gave me pause.

“What exactly does this dress look like?” I asked.

Molly grinned and rushed back toward her bedroom. She appeared a few moments later with a garment bag in her hand. She unzipped it and pulled out a bright red dress. My mouth fell open. It was cut so low that I wasn’t entirely certain that it could really qualify as a complete dress, and a slit up one side of the skirt seemed that it would nearly meet the neckline.

“Isn’t it fabulous?” Molly asked.

“I can’t wear that!” I gasped.

“Why not?” Molly asked, looking toward the dress as if I was seeing something that she wasn’t. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s obscene!”

“It’s not obscene,” Molly said. “I remember plenty of days when you wore less than this when you went out.”

“That was when I was much younger and before I had Edmond.”

“Come on. You’re a mother. You aren’t a grandmother. Besides, at this point, you really don’t have any other option. Unless, of course, you want to just walk back up to his door through all of his guests and say, ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Dupree, I snagged this on the way out of your apartment and I figured that you might want it back.”

I let out a long sigh.

“How fast can you do my hair?”

Stupid shoes. Stupid fucking pointy shoes. Stupid fucking pointy shoes that probably weren’t designed to be walked in. Stupid fucking pointy shoes that probably weren’t designed to be walked in, but that look so good.

I was concentrating so hard on my teetering walk down the sidewalk that I nearly walked right past the building. Molly had dropped me off a block away so that no one would notice the aged and well-worn sedan gliding up in front of the sparkling Avalon among the luxury cars and chauffeured limos. While it seemed like a good idea at the time, the shoes that were half a size too big and had heels the size of pencils quickly made it less of a good idea. Molly had driven off the second that I got out, however, so I didn’t have any choice but to make my way toward the door and hope that I didn’t end up sprawled on the sidewalk.

“Ma’am?”

I turned toward the voice and saw the doorman holding the door open for me and gesturing toward the inside of the building.

“Yes?”

“Are you here for Mr. Dupree’s event?”

“Um. Yes. Yes, I am.”

He seemed taken aback by my uncertainty, but continued to smile at me.

“Right this way.”

“Thank you,” I said, walking past him and into the lobby.

I was expecting to see glamorous people swarming the lobby and streaming into the elevators, but the building seemed nearly as empty as it had when I left earlier, with only one couple making their way into the Avalon Café for dinner. I gripped the beaded bag that barely accommodated the frame closer to me and hurried as much as I could to the elevator. With any luck, I would be out in a matter of minutes and would never have to look at the shoes again. Or The Avalon. Or Mason Dupree.

I wasn’t quite as pleased with that last one as the first two. The truth was that I hadn’t been able to get the gorgeous man out of my mind since walking away from him. He was even sexier than the pictures I had seen or his appearances on TV, and the heat that I had felt instantly when we looked at each other had taken me completely off-guard. I hadn’t expected to ever feel that again, especially so strongly, and it made me feel off-balance and unsure of myself.

I took a breath as I approached the door to the apartment, but still gasped slightly when it flew open before I could even knock. A stern-looking man stared out at me.

“Good evening,” he said.

“Hello,” I stammered. “I’m sorry – am I early?”

“You are the first to arrive.”

Did that answer my question? Did that mean yes, I was early, or no, everybody else was late?

I stood staring back at him, unsure of what I was supposed to say. I felt the urge to curtsey.

“Should I come back?” I finally asked.

He looked at me as if I had just said something wholly offensive and took a step back. I briefly thought that he was going to close the door in my face, but instead, he pulled it open further and gestured toward the apartment.

“Please come in,” he said. “Your host will be with you shortly.”

Damn. I hope not.

I smiled as casually as I could, hoping that the man hadn’t seen the borderline panic in my eyes as I stepped past him and into the foyer. He reached out one hand.

“Coat, please.”

He said it in just enough time to save me the humiliation of trying to tip him with the two dollars and piece of gum that were the only other things in my purse, but I could still feel the embarrassment burning on my cheeks. It was a tendency of mine that I had hated since I was a little girl. Any time I was even the slightest bit embarrassed or upset, I blushed so red anyone near me would be able to tell what was going through my mind. I slipped out of my coat and handed it over to the man before I even thought about it. He gave me a thin-lipped smile and walked out of the foyer, leaving me alone. I immediately reached for the frame in my bag and then turned toward…nothing.

The table wasn’t there.

Where did it go? This was where it was, right? Could there possibly be more than one foyer in this place? No, I know the door was right after the elevator. Wasn’t it? Well, there it is. I’ve lost my mind.

I heard footsteps approaching the door and scurried further into the apartment, not wanting to get swept up into any conversations with the actual guests of the party. My hand was still wrapped around the frame in my bag and all I could think to do was go to the drawing room where I had left Molly and Mason hours before. I slipped into the room and closed the door most of the way, not wanting to make any noise. Looking around, I chose the dark bookshelf sitting against one wall and crossed to it. Pulling the frame out of the bag, I set it in place on the shelf in front of me. I was starting to walk away, intending to find my coat so I could leave, when I noticed a smudge across the frame, likely from a piece of melted chocolate in my bag. Muttering obscenities to myself, I licked my thumb and went after the smudge, figuring if it was good enough for my son’s face, it was good enough for silver.