I’d chickened out and texted rather than called Dillon.

Luckily, he’d replied back and let me know what I needed to bring with me, and since I was going as his plus one, the company would be paying for my travel. This was a huge relief, since all of my funds were currently going toward my dream.

I did, however, need the perfect dress to wear to the fundraiser event, and didn’t think the black slinky number I’d worn in my femme fatal moment was the appropriate choice. So, I decided to dip into my account and rent the perfect dress from Rent the Runway. It was gold, sparkly, and would meet me at the hotel the day of the event.

Chloe’s son, Chris, would be watching Princess while I was gone, so I didn’t have to worry about that, and I’d finished packing hours ago.

Now, I was pacing my apartment as I waited for Dillon to pick me up, eager and nervous at the thought of spending the weekend with him. I mean not with him, but we would be spending a lot of time together. More than we probably ever had in one sitting in our lives. The thought thrilled me even as it made my stomach turn.

What if he regrets asking me?

What if he ignores me all weekend?

What if it’s awful?

I promised myself that if Dillon started being a douche I’d let him do his own thing all weekend, but keep my word and go with him to the fundraiser event. Then, once we got back, my debt would be paid and we could go back to ignoring each other at holidays and events.

I really hoped that wouldn’t happen, though.

“He’s here, Princess, Mama’s gotta go,” I said, when I saw the black Lincoln pull up.

I picked her up and kissed her head, before placing her on the couch and grabbing my purse, travel bag, and rolling suitcase.

When I got outside, Dillon was waiting next to the car with the trunk open, and as soon as he saw me, he crossed to take my things and put them in the trunk. I was still standing on the sidewalk, surprised, when he came back around and opened the passenger door for me.

“You look great today,” Dillon said.

I slowly looked down at the leggings and long tunic I’d thrown on for the trip, then back up at him.

“Uh, thanks,” I replied, finally finding my feet and moving slowly toward him. “So do you,” I added, and he really did.

Dillon looked great in a suit, but casual Dillon would always be my favorite.

Jeans, a green V-neck that matched his eyes, and his hair slightly mussed was a really good look on him.

I slid into the car, then watched as he shut the door and rounded the hood before getting in the driver’s seat. He turned the music on low and drove us to the airport. It was a short trip that we filled with small talk, and by the time we parked and walked into the airport my nerves had eased.

It seemed as if Dillon had decided to make this trip as enjoyable as possible, and I was grateful for it.

We boarded the plane as first-class passengers, and I couldn’t contain my grin as I sat in the plush seats with plenty of leg room. Dillon put our carry-on’s overhead before taking his seat on the aisle, and we were buckling in when the flight attendant came over.

“Here are you blankets and pillows. Would you like a beverage while waiting for takeoff?”

“I’ll have a scotch,” Dillon said, then turned to me and asked, “Pinot Noir?”

I nodded and gave the flight attendant a smile.

After she walked away, I said, “Drinks and blankets without asking? You guys really live large up here in first class.”

Dillon chuckled and replied, “Just wait until you see the in-flight entertainment and gourmet meals.”

“Really?” I asked, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. “I could get used to this.”

“Here you are,” I heard the flight attendant say, so I opened my eyes and sat back up, accepting the glass of wine she offered.

“Thank you,” I murmured, then took a sip. “Wow, that’s good.”

“Mmmhmm,” Dillon said, his lips around his own glass.

Trying not to focus on those lips, I averted my attention back in front of me and asked, “So, what’s the plan for this weekend?”

“Well,” Dillon began, settling in. “Tomorrow morning we’ll get up bright and early, grab some breakfast, then head to the convention. I’m afraid it’ll be mostly sporting goods, suppliers, and the like, but there will actually be some marketing, PR, and supply companies that you may be interested in seeing … gather stuff for your business.”

“Really?” The possibility of there being vendors I could use hadn’t even crossed my mind. Excited, I turned my head toward him and said, “That’ll be great.”

Dillon nodded and resumed, “Tomorrow night is the fundraiser, dinner, and ballet, and then Sunday we will hit the convention again until it closes at noon. Then, we head back. Quick and painless.”

“It sounds like fun,” I assured him, because to me, it really did, and that was before I’d learned there would actually be information and contacts at the convention that I could use. No, being with Dillon for the weekend, when he was acting like this, like we were friends, was like utopia to me.

“I think so, too,” he replied with a smile, then rolled his head toward me and asked, “But I was thinking tonight we’d drop off our things, then go out for a nice dinner in the city. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, unable to tear my eyes away from his emerald gaze.

Hope filled my chest as I mentally cataloged what I’d brought with me, and tried to figure out what I could wear for a night out with Dillon.