I nodded. “You’re right. This is exactly what I wanted.” I looked down at my dress again. If I listened hard, I could still hear the music thumping from the ground floor. Here was Trey, wanting to make me whole again. But somewhere over the past two weeks, I’d already put myself back together. Or someone else had.
“Dean,” I said softly.
“What?” Trey asked.
“I have to go,” I said, turning away.
“Alex—wait.”
I walked to the hotel room door and then paused. I looked back at Trey.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and I shouldn’t have told you about those other girls. Really—I want this.”
“No, you don’t,” I said. “You want the dress. But I need someone who wants me with or without it.”
The heavy doorwhooshedwhen I opened it. An audible click was all I heard behind me—not Trey’s footsteps or his words attempting to stop me.
Once I hit the lobby, I strode toward the exit. When I spotted my friend Elyse with Todd, I hurried over, touching her arm.
“Hey, Al—”
“You know my date?” I asked, pointing toward the ballroom.
She squinted her eyes even though the door was closed. “You mean Chad?”
“Yeah.” I glanced at Todd and back at her. “He told me you’re the most beautiful girl here tonight.”
Her eyes softened. “Really?”
“No. He said you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen—but he told me that on Monday when we were hanging outside of the English building, and you walked by and waved.”
“I was hungover that day.” She cringed. “And I wore my pajamas to class. I didn’t even brush my hair.”
“Exactly.”
I walked away, hoping that was enough, because I was a week late already. Out in the cool night, I breathed in the fresh air and hailed a cab.
“Where to?” the cabby asked once I was inside.
I sat back in my seat. On a Friday night—where would Dean be? I gave him an address and smoothed my hair down as we pulled away from the curb.
When we arrived, I absentmindedly paid the cab driver, my thoughts coming fast. I waved my building pass, still dangling from my keychain, at the security guard. In the elevator, I wrung my fingers in front of me. My nerves flared with each floor I passed. The doors opened to complete and silent darkness.
I stepped out and went to Dean’s office. It was seconds before I heard the tapping of fingers against a keyboard. An older woman glanced up, her eyes scanning over me.
“Um, we’re closed for business right now,” she said. “Can I help you?”
I stuck out my hand. “You must be Grace. I’m Alexandra, the—”
“Of course,” she said, standing and taking my hand. “The temp. Thank you for your help last week—was there a problem with the check?”
“No. I’m here to see Mr. Brittany.”
The door opened just then and Dean leaned against the frame. His hair was disheveled and there were bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping well, but he looked as handsome as he had moments before he’d shut his apartment door and left me in the hallway.
He didn’t seem surprised to see me. “Grace, go home for the night, please.”
“Oh.” She nodded after a moment, gathering her things as we stared at each other. When she’d left, he turned and walked back into his office, leaving the door open.
