Annie

“Okay, open your eyes.”

I did as I’d been told, drawing in a breath of surprise when I saw myself in my bedroom mirror.

The makeup artist stood at my side, smiling as she watched my reaction, my eyes roaming my face and hair in wonder.

“I can’t believe that’s me.”

I turned my head side to side, inspecting my hair, which was piled in romantic curls on my head. A gold velvet ribbon wound around my crown twice at intervals, weaving in and out of my hair in a Grecian fashion. The fascinator was pinned just above my ear, a beaded pair of leaves over a frame of creamy feather tips. And my makeup, though simple and natural, changed my face somehow, opened my eyes up, made them brighter, brought color to my cheeks and lips.

It was miraculous.

“Like it?” she asked eagerly.

“I love it,” I breathed. My eyes moved lower to the angry, welted scar between my breasts, which were pinned and swelling from the confines of the bodice of my dress.

I ran my finger over the scar, wishing I had the porcelain décolletage of the movies.

“Did you want me to cover that up?” she asked. “I have some stage makeup that covers up tattoos and scars.”

But I smiled. “No, that’s all right. It’s just as much a part of me as anything else.”

The doorbell rang, sending the dogs on their tear through the house. I stood, gathering my skirts and hurrying out of the room as best I could, nearly falling over when I saw Will just inside the door.

He was utterly gorgeous—from top hat to riding boots and everywhere in between.

But my heart swung back when it remembered the pain he’d caused, swinging even further away when I wished for a fleeting moment that it were Greg standing in the entry in a cravat and tails, smiling at me like I was the center of the universe.

Will doffed his hat and bowed as I approached. “Why, Annie, you look lovely tonight and all nights.”

I curtsied, lowering my eyes and composing my thoughts as Susan wrangled the dogs away.

He replaced his hat and took my gloved hands in his, pulling me close enough to speak in a hush, “I’m sorry, Annie. I…I am a jealous man, and that jealousy drives me to say things I shouldn’t. I’m sorry I was harsh. I’m sorry I hurt you. Am I forgiven?”

I smiled, but the gesture was thin. I’d not yet healed from the lashing, but the bandage was a beautiful effort. With some time, I hoped we could put it behind us. But if his habit of flying off the handle was any indicator, it would only be a matter of time before we found ourselves there again.

For now, I would have faith.

“Of course I forgive you,” I answered as his thumb stroked my hand through my satin glove.

And with that liberation, he brought my hand to his lips.

Mama was at my side, and Susan approached, red-faced and smiling as she brushed an errant hair from her face. “Will Bailey! How is your mother? Well, I hope.”

“She is. Thank you, Mrs. Jennings. Though I’ve barely seen her; she’s working on a charity ball for next month that has had all of her attention.”

“Oh, I’m sure. It’s stunning every year, and the amount of work—oh!” she breathed, glancing behind me.

I turned to find Elle entering the room, blushing prettily, her skin like a dish of cream against the deep teal of her dress.

Mama’s eyes were teary. “Oh, Elle, you look radiant.”

And she really did. Between the shine of her dress and the flush in her cheeks, she was practically glowing.

“Thank you,” she said, looking down.

It almost made me feel bad for the surprise I was going to spring on her at the mixer.

Susan looked us all over proudly. “You all look wonderful. These costumes are simply amazing. Here, let me take your picture.” She opened her hand for my camera, which was nearly the sole content of my small handbag.

We posed for a few photos before Will offered his arm. “We should be going.”

“Yes, of course,” Mama said.

I bent to kiss her cheek before taking Will’s offering.

And then we were off.

The chatter in the car was excited and buzzing, the three of us laughing and happy and subject to the magic of the evening.

But when I walked in the door of the bar, that magic was sucked out of me in a whoosh and replaced with something far more real.

I saw Greg behind the bar the second I passed the threshold, my feet still moving as I walked at Will’s side, my hand in the bend of his elbow.

But when my eyes met Greg’s across the room, the room stilled, quieted, disappeared, the thread between us tightening with my lungs.

He stood tall, the overhead lights casting his eyes in shadows from the line of his gathered brows and highlighting the hard edge of his jaw. A cravat of crisp white linen was wrapped around the column of his neck and tied in a loose knot at the place where I knew I’d find the hollow of his throat, if I’d been able to slip my fingers into the tie and unfurl it. The dark coat over his vest was tailored to perfection, the shoulders straight and marking the broad expanse of his frame, the tapering to his waist with buttons that served, in my mind, only to accentuate that lovely angle of his body.

But it was his eyes, dark and shrouded, that held everything in me still, commanding me without the need for a single word.

A tug of my hand snapped the connection.

Will smiled at me as if he’d asked me something.

“What was that?” I muttered.

“Can I get you a drink?”

I smiled back. “Just water, thank you.”

He patted my hand before letting it go. “I’ll be back.”

I chanced a look back at Greg. He hadn’t moved, but somehow, everything about him was harder, more insistent, more desperate.

Elle took my arm. “Where do you have to be?”

I glanced around, finding the table a little in from the bar. “Right over here. I’m running the register on the Book and Booze special all night. Think you’ll be all right?”

“I’m sure I can manage,” she answered with a smile.

And when I scanned the crowd and saw Ward, I smiled back. “I bet you can. Look.”

I nodded in his direction, and she gasped.

“Annie, oh my God.” Her voice was low and frantic. “What did you do?”

I shrugged. “Oh, I didn’t tell you I invited him? Hmm, I swear I mentioned it.”

“No, you most certainly did not mention it.”

“I just figured he’s single too. I mean, technically, it is singles’ night.”

Her blush was so furiously pretty, I could barely stand it, and neither could Ward, it seemed. He waved and began making his way over.

Her arm tightened in mine, her voice low. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“What is the matter with you? He’s a friend, isn’t he?”

She leveled me with her gaze. “He is my boss.”

I shrugged again. “You’re not allowed to talk to your boss outside of work?”

“No, it’s not that. I just—” She froze, her eyes darting away.

“Good evening, ladies.” Ward’s voice was deep and velvety, his smile a little crooked as he bowed. He wore a lovely Regency suit, perfectly accurate, even down to the cravat.

Really, it was the most brilliant dream realized—a room full of masculine necktie porn.

“That costume is perfect, Ward. Where did you get it?” I asked.

“My mother knows of a rental place she’s used for parties before. Thanks for the invitation by the way. This is spectacular,” he said, glancing around.

It really was. Cam had gone a little extra, stringing hanging lights covered by small paper lanterns across the open space. Candelabras dotted the room on available surfaces, lit with electric candles. She’d even had dance cards made, which were sitting on the table where I was supposed to already be.

“Well, I need to go clock in and get to work. Ward, will you keep my sister company for me? I’d hate for her to stand here in that dress all alone.”

His smile widened. “Oh, I don’t think such a thing could ever happen, especially not in a dress like this.”

She blushed so hard, I thought she might faint from a rush of blood to her head.

I laughed. “I’ll be back in a bit. Have fun!” I called as I headed to the back.

Greg’s eyes were on me—I could feel them like a tether—but I kept my chin up and my feet moving, clocking in once in the office and collecting the iPad and credit card reader before making my way back out.

The table at the front was marked with little signs, dance cards, name tags, that sort of thing. Jett sat after, looking dapper as hell and as natural as an Austen hero. His hair was raven, his eyes the color of cornflower, rich and velvety blue, shoulders wide and nose elegant. He was checking IDs and issuing wristbands, taking down drink and book combinations for the Books and Booze deal. Ruby was in charge of pulling the books and drinks once they were purchased, and I was set to take orders from suitors and ladies alike.

Will was at my elbow a moment after I sat down, and he set a tall glass next to me.

“Thank you,” I said and took a sip, nearly choking when it hit the back of my throat. I looked at the glass as if it contained poison. “This is not water.”

He bent to bring his lips to my ear. “It’s vodka and water.”

Panic rose in my chest. “I can’t drink this!” I hissed. “I’ve never—”

“I know,” he soothed. “Another first. And here’s to many more.”

He clinked his own rocks glass to mine and took a sip. I didn’t.

“Will, I’m working. This is wrong.”

At that, he knelt next to my chair, putting him just below my eye-level, his gaze turned up to mine, handsome and persuasive. “It’s just one drink, and it’s a tall. No one will know, and you won’t get drunk. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of you.”

I didn’t want to be a baby, and I didn’t want to tell him no. I wanted to be the cool girl, the easygoing, anything-goes girl. And I didn’t want to fight with Will anymore.

So I sighed and said something I would later come to regret very deeply.

“All right. Just one.”