Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

 

 

Cory was waiting for her on the front porch. “This is going to be so much fun!” Matt’s sister grabbed her by the arm and brought her into the house.

“Hey, Carolina,” Sarah said. “Would you care for something to drink?”

“I’m good. Thank you.”

“Momma, stop fretting. We’ll be down in a jiff. C’mon. My room’s upstairs. I rarely have any girlfriends who come over. They’re all off at college!” Cory hollered as she dashed up the stairs.

“Whoa,” Carolina huffed.

“Momma says I have to turn twenty-one before they’ll let me loose on a college campus. I’ve got my eye on UCLA. I finished high school a year ahead. And for what? It was a trick, I think. I drove my parents crazy. They thought every phone call during the day was going to be from the high school counselor asking me to leave. Can you imagine?”

“You’ve got fantastic lung capacity.” Carolina didn’t know what else to say.

“Right, I do. I swim. Or did. Freestyle. It helped so much. Then I got into dance. Ballroom. I teach at a studio in town if you’re interested. Gosh, it’d be a hoot if you and Matt dropped by.”

“Speaking of which, what should I wear to dinner?”

They entered Cory’s bedroom done in varying shades of cream. Thick luxurious carpet swallowed her feet. Everything was as neat as a pin. Carolina mentally rolled her eyes at what Matt had mentioned back in Miami—that his sister had hoarder tendencies. The room really was very elegant.

“Did you design your bedroom?” she asked Cory. “It’s lovely.”

“Yep and thanks. My aunt tried to sway me on the window treatments, but I wasn’t having it.”

There were simple gauzy curtains on each of the windows with expensive looking hardware for the rods and hold-backs. For all her flair, Cory’s understated taste was remarkable. “Cory, you’ve got an eye,” she agreed. “Are you thinking of majoring in design?”

“Not exactly.” Cory smiled. “Matt said he was taking you dancing. That means the Double Diamond or Big Sugar’s. Our cousin Cade sometimes tends bar at the Diamond, but he’s off in the Marine’s with my other cousin Rod. But back to fashion for tonight. Nothing to worry over. You won’t need anything more than a jean skirt and boots. I’ve got plenty. Something short and something fancy.” Cory’s hand moved to mid-thigh.

Carolina pulled her hand down toward her knee. “How about here?”

“Nothing doing. You’ve got the legs, Carolina. Why not torture my brother just a smidge? It’ll be too much fun and payback rolled all into one superb dart. If ya get my drift?”

“I do but I’m not trying to angle anything with Matt. It’s just a date.”

Cory rolled her eyes. “Girl, keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, I’ll deal with the here and now.”

Carolina smiled. “What do you suggest?”

“Mmm, what perfume do ya wear? It’s just lovely. It’s smells like jasmine with a little bit of orange. And definitely tuberose.”

“Thanks, it’s Gabrielle. I didn’t bring it with me tonight, but you can borrow some, whenever you like.”

“That’s the newest one from Chanel and it’s sold out! Here and in Paris, I’ve checked. Only an eBay site in the UK has some. Five hundred dollars a pop! Can you imagine, for half an ounce? It’s worth more than gold bullion!” Cory blustered. “Golly, you’re lucky.”

Sam had given her an ounce. “My cousin gave me a bottle,” Carolina explained, “When I was the maid of honor at her wedding, recently.”

Cory grinned. “Oh, I do love weddings. But if I kept every bridesmaid gown I ever wore, I’d need a second closet. Some days I think that stupid saying always the bridesmaid never the bride will come true. Not that I mean it about you, what with your cousin’s wedding.”

Cory crossed the room. She spread apart the closet doors and Carolina couldn’t believe her eyes as she followed her inside. It was the size of another large bedroom. Heck, it rivalled a small department store.

“Good Lord,” she mumbled.

“Don’t think too much on the night ahead.” Cory swept her perfectly French manicured fingernails along the rows of shirts. “I find it’s best if you focus entirely on what you like. If you feel good, so will your date! Just pick something and we’ll get you fixed up.”

Carolina had never seen so many colors, so many textures in the form of clothing, shoes, accessories. Anything a woman could think of was inside Cory’s closet. That was saying something since Carolina came from a long line of savvy consumers. Her cousins were nothing short of industrial shoppers, but Cory put them all to shame. “How did you acquire all of this?”

“You’ve heard of Amazon?” Cory asked.

“Hasn’t everyone!”

“Well, I’ve got my own associate’s page. Girl, I sell to all my family, my friends and their families. I earn enough to keep me buying. And I’ve socked away a nest egg to cover my UCLA tuition. When I go to college, I plan on majoring in finance. I don’t play when I shop. I deal in discounts. You need something, just call me. Have no fear, I’ll hook you up.”

“Jean skirt?” Carolina squeaked. There was at least a dozen, in varying shades of denim.

“You’re a size four or six?”

“Six on the bottom. Sometimes larger on the top.”

“Right. You’ve got them curves my brother loves.” Cory started taking hangers off the rod. “Hold out your arms.”

“That’ll do. Really. I just need a skirt and a top.”

“And boots with flair. Size 7?” Cory folded out a step stool.

“Yep.” Carolina laughed, amazed by the other woman’s obvious talent.

“This week, I’ve got Ariat, Dingo, Justin’s … Turquoise, blood red, ostrich.” Cory stepped down with four shoeboxes. “Go put your pile on the bed and come back for these.”

Cory set them down on the island in the middle of her dressing closet. When Carolina returned she had hats, belts, and tops in neat piles.

After trying on clothes for an hour. Cory and she finally agreed on a tight stonewashed jean skirt with intricately placed patches. The ensemble included a pair of Laredo boots, a rhinestone belt, matching earrings, and a chambray Western shirt in turquoise to match the boots. And an aqua camisole so she could leave the shirt unbuttoned for the most part.

After another hour and a half, Carolina was dressed, primped and had on enough make-up to look like someone else entirely. Her hair was done in soft waves, sprayed, and she wore a white cowboy hat. Cory went downstairs ahead of her to get her camera set up. Carolina sat in front of the mirror, wondering who the heck had time to prepare for dates in Texas and hold down a career.

She rose and passed by a floor-to-ceiling mirror. The skirt was a little shorter than she preferred. But she had bigger fish to fry in her pool of worry. She took out her phone and checked her email. Nothing from Jeff. It wasn’t a mystery that Matt was less than pleased that he was using her former employer. He’d said little after their office conversation on the matter.

After, Matt had left, returning to the ranch land to get his section of fence fixed. She’d remained in the office and answered emails and looked for another pathologist to use. By the afternoon, she had several interested prospects not only from Florida, but as far away as Seattle. She’d spent some time updating her resume and included, almost tearfully, her consultation work at Evermore. And of course, she had the business plan that Matt had prepared in case she had thoughts of expanding, or setting down roots, say with an office.

She clutched her cell and fought calling Jeff, demanding to know where the reports were. God, it had been a mistake to call him. Carolina tried not to berate herself and shook her head. She spent four hours reading, reviewing, and tracing gene combinations when she located the specific gene group. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the genetic program that would assist her on identifying the specific gene or a mutation, and that’s why Jeff’s involvement was imperative.

After today, she’d never use his services again!

On the landing of the stairs, her gaze flittered and focused on Matt. He did a double take and his heated stare reminded her of the first time they’d crossed paths. Matt beamed a cocky grin at her and the sun couldn’t have shone brighter. Her heart tripped. She gripped the banister, not wanting to do the same.

“Sorry I’m running late.”

“No problem—” The rest of whatever Matt was about to say crashed and burned. Carolina held her breath as his gaze detoured from her face, barrelling down her legs to the boots on her feet, then up again.

“Do you like it?” She stood on the last step, twisting her fingers, nervous and waiting on his response.

His eyes flashed, locking with hers. “Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“This is it,” she stammered.

“Like hell it is. Cory, where in tarnation are you hiding!”

“Stop hollerin’! No one is hiding, big brother. And for your information, Carolina’s wearing the same skirt every other woman will be wearing at the Diamond, so put a sock in it. This is the style. Don’t make her feel less than perfect, because you’re some modern version of a caveman.”

“I’ve been called worse,” he snorted. “What about a sweater?”

“Oh, good grief! It’s nearly ninety degrees outside.” Cory winked at Carolina. “You’re a knockout and he knows his behavior stinks so bad, he might lose you before the water is poured. Brother, the Karma Café is open for business, and you are in so, so deep!”

Matt’s face hardened. All signs pointed to one cowboy about to unleash. He sighed and laughed, surprising Carolina.

“Fine, Corinth. You might have a point.” He rolled his eyes and held out his arm.