She always looked put together in expensive clothes with her brown hair styled perfectly and makeup done artistically. The hummingbird tattoo on her neck stood out against the glittery gold top she was wearing beneath a long wool coat.
“I could use something warm to drink,” I said. Or a stiff drink.
We walked into the high-rise, with her guiding the way.
“I can’t wait for you to meet my sisters-in-law, Maggie and Jade. You’ll love them.”
Grace had shown up at the club two nights ago to make sure I was coming. We’d also had a chance to chat more, and she’d filled me in on who was who and what to expect.
I really liked Grace, and I had no doubt she would be devastated when she learned who I really was. I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t be gutted as well. I didn’t know how Jason had spent a year and a half undercover. I was approaching my two-week mark, and I felt as though I was becoming emotionally attached already.
A bellman rushed over from a desk near the elevator to open the door for us. “Ms. Hart,” he said. “So good to see you again.”
Grace gave the gray-haired man a hug. “Happy Thanksgiving, Dave. I’m sorry that you’re here today. I’ll be sure to bring you a plate.”
The fifty-something bellman gave her the warmest smile. “You’re so good to me.”
Grace quickly introduced me to Dave as her guest, then he hurried over to the elevator and inserted a keycard. “You’re all set to go up.”
After the doors closed, I felt a sudden wave of dizziness. I shouldn’t be this nervous. I loved meeting people and hanging out with friends. Shyness wasn’t a part of Fallyn Williams. Yet, it seemed it was for Joy Whitlock.
“You look great.” Grace’s light-and-airy voice zapped the fog from my brain. “I love those ankle boots.”
I’d chosen a simple V-neck cream wrap sweater that hung just to the waistline of my taupe skinny-leg pants, which were tucked into my suede tan boots.
“I’m not too dressed up, am I? You said nothing fancy.”
Her copper eyes swept over me. “Duke will go weak in the knees when he sees you.” She fluffed up my hair. “Not that I’m setting you two up,” she was quick to add with a shrewd smile.
A smile flitted across my mouth, one I didn’t feel. “You love your brother.”
The elevator seemed as though it was taking its sweet old time. I wasn’t complaining. I could hang out with Grace all day. She was easy, free-spirited, and not wound as tight as her gorgeous brother, whose kiss was seared into my heart.
“More than you know.”
I lightly touched the hummingbird tattoo on her neck. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that tat is badass. Any significance?”
Her shoulder twitched. “I just always loved watching them in our backyard when I was a kid. These birds washed away the bad times.”
The car came to a stop, erasing that fleeting forlorn look she had.
After the doors slid open, the aroma of turkey rushed at us like a gust of wind in a brewing storm. Much like the way my stomach was tumbling and swirling as though I had my own storm raging.
Grace held my hand. “You’re going to do great.” She ushered me alongside her like I was her new toy, a prize she’d won and wanted to show off.
The need to turn and run was poking at my senses, the banging in my ears competing with the buzzing voices.
Despite my anxiety, I felt as though I’d walked into a world of champagne and riches. Two pillars, round and wide, were erected on the edge of a cozy living room, with a fire crackling in the hearth. Couches and pillows and eclectic art decorated the walls around the fireplace, giving the space a bohemian vibe. Shiny floors wound through the open floor plan to a gourmet kitchen that my mom would’ve loved at this time of year for all the baking she’d done for charities.
A young blond girl ran up to Grace and gave her a hug. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Fran, this is my friend Joy,” Grace said.
I shook Fran’s hand. Her vibrant sea-green eyes had an uncanny resemblance to those of her dad, Brian McCauley.
“You’re as pretty as Duke says,” Fran said in an excited voice. “Are you going dress shopping with us this weekend?”
Out of nowhere, an average-height woman with silky black hair had her arms around me, cutting off my chance to answer Fran. “Joy, I’m Jade, Denim’s wife. So happy you could join us.”
