Chapter Twenty
Ryane glanced at her watch, checked the time on her phone, and then peeked over at the ornate clock on the wall of her suite at the Crown Rose Hotel. “Belinda, Bobbie, Bernadette.”
Her three assistants jumped up and stood in front of her.
“I need a time check.” She lifted her chin.
Her makeup artist prodded her chin back down.
“Time.” The party hadn’t even started yet and already she was obsessed with hours, minutes and seconds. She managed to get through the last week trying to do what she asked of Knight, and sort out her life. Finally, she realized the only way to get through to her father was to wait until the man of her fantasies showed up and tell everyone she was in love.
Yes. She was in love. That really stupid, schoolgirl, drawing her name in notebooks, stomachache kind of love. The kind of love that drowned out everything else, made her do stupid things, and not care about anything but being with Knight.
As the days drew closer to the party, her mind played through every scenario on what could happen. Knight would show up, they would dance, they would kiss, then he would take her in his arms and tell her he loved her. She would present him to her father and beg the man to be happy for her.
Of course, Knight could show up and take one look at her real self, see she was nothing but a spoiled socialite with no real job, shake his head and leave.
Then again, he could show up, prove to be some psychotic murderer and do away with them all.
In the worst possibility, he could not show up. She would spend the night watching the clock and at 12:01 truly have to face her life.
“It’s six oh two and thirty-seven seconds.” Belinda jolted her out of her reverie.
She focused on Bobbie.
Bobbie nodded. “I have the same.”
At last, she averted her eyes to Bernadette.
Her assistant held up one finger and stared down at her phone. “I now have...” She drew out the words. “Six oh three!”
“Good job.” Well, her assistants were on the ball. “I want updates every five minutes. I don’t want to have to look at the clock.”
“Don’t speak, ma’am.” Brush in hand, her makeup artist took hold of her chin. "I am working on your lashes, this is precise work.”
“Try not to move either.” Her hairdresser held up a curling iron.
Her stylist swooped into the room with four people behind him carrying various boxes, hangers and bags. “I have your dress,” he announced. “Once we sew you into it, if you could try not to breathe that would be helpful.”
She ground her teeth together. Normally, this was her favorite time of any event, the moment where all the hours of planning the right look, the right dress, the right designers all came together. This time all she wanted to do was throw this outfit on and get to the party. What if he got lost, what if she missed him, what if he didn’t show? She shuddered.
“Time!” she screamed out, causing the crew around her to jump back.
“Miss Windsome, it’s six oh seven. You had one more minute to go until we updated you,” Bernadette said.
“Only four minutes have passed.” She shooed everyone away and got up. How was she going to make it through another five hours and fifty-three minutes? At least she did the math fast. “How long is tonight going to last?”
Belinda raised her hand. “We have quite some time to go, at least six or seven hours.”
“It’s six oh eight now,” Bobbie offered.
“That was only sixty seconds.” She pressed her hand to her chest.
“Let’s get Ryane into her dress and then we can do any final touch ups.” Her designer corralled her over to the mirrors set up for this amazing moment.
Somehow she managed to stand there while no less than five people dressed her in her light pink formfitting gown with an intricate design of matching semi-precious jewels sewed into the bodice along with the matching shoes. At the time she picked the dress, she was making a stand with her color, with file folders, with her platform to bring more pink to the world. Now she only wanted to put on a pair of jeans and trudge through the forest. Her assistants counted off another thirty-five minutes that seemed to take several hundred hours.
“We need to take this off.” Her stylist touched the bracelet she found from Knight. “It doesn’t go with your outfit at all.”
“No!” She snatched her arm away. “That stays.” Until the moment Knight didn’t show, she would wear the simple jewelry.
“It’s yellow gold in a sea of platinum and diamonds,” the man whined.
“It stays.” She let out her verdict.
“Fine, I’ll cover it up with something else.” The man chose an extra wide bracelet and fastened it to her arm.
She stared at her own image in the mirrors while people fussed over her, making sure everything was perfect, her curls, the gloss on her lips, every accessory from her rings to her bracelet to the jeweled tiara in her hair giving off the ideal amount of sparkle.
“You look like a princess.”
A voice she recognized all to well intruded into her space and she glanced over to find Patrick entering her suite. “A gorgeous princess who looks almost ready for her ball.”
Dressed in a full tuxedo and tails, Ryane had to admit that Patrick was the personification of a prince when she wanted a renegade. “Almost?” she asked.
“I’m sure there are a few finishing touches that need to be made tonight, but we will start with this.” He reached into his tuxedo jacket and produced a pristine pink rose. “Just something for you to hold when you’re not holding my hand.”
Her heart sank. The man said all the right words, did all the right things, and yet…
Bobbie jumped and waved her arms. “Six forty-eight!”
“Are we counting down something?” Patrick took her hand and looked her over. “Perhaps the time until midnight?”
Her stomach twisted. What did he know? “Huh?”
“With everything going on did you forget that midnight tonight is when you gave the deadline for signing the contract on the Los Padres property?” He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the door.
“Oh, yes. That was your idea.” She managed to inhale some air.
“Perhaps some other magical things will happen around midnight.” His tone teased her.
“Do you think so?” How did she get such a great guy involved in her mess?
“I know for a fact.” He turned and bowed to everyone else in the room. “May I have her now?”
Her entire crew clapped.
“Are you ready to go to your party, Miss Windsome?” He offered her his arm.
After a pause, she placed her arm in his. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I say this will be a night to remember.” He winked.
Belinda dashed out into the hallway. “Six fifty-three.”
“We better not be late.” Patrick led her away.
No one there knew what she was truly waiting for, maybe not even her.