Slipping into my heels with the intention to do just that, I was balancing against the edge of the bed while I fastened the strap when a sharp knock echoed through the suite. I froze, but there was no sound of Jane stirring.
Another knock followed, firm but polite, and I abandoned my heels to dart across the suite before the knocking woke her. A hotel staff member stood on the other side of the door, smiling professionally as he motioned to the rolling cart in front of him.
“Delivery for Ms. Vanderhaul,” he said.
“Oh.” I frowned. “I, uh, thank you?”
When I stepped out of the way, he pushed the cart inside and placed a bottle of red wine on the marble counter in the living area, along with a glass and some snacks. Next, a large, elegant dress box appeared from under the tablecloth covering the cart, a satin ribbon wrapped around it.
The man placed that next to the wine and then nodded, slipping back out and quietly shutting the door behind him. Meanwhile, I just stared at the box.
Before I’d even touched it, my heart kicked into a higher gear. I took a step closer and eyed the ribbon for a moment before I finally convinced myself it was okay to open it. The guy had said this was for me, so I gave it a gentle tug and the bow slid free with a soft whisper of fabric. The lid lifted easily beneath my hands.
The gown inside stole the air straight from my lungs. Light blue silk was pooled in careful folds, the color luminous and soft. I knew without even having to put it on that the shade would make my hair pop and my eyes look brighter.
The neckline was elegant without being showy. The structure of the dress itself was absolutely flawless. The longer I stared at it, the more I realized that this was expensive in thatreal expensiveway, the kind that didn’t need logos or labels to announce itself.
Something warm and disorienting bloomed between my ribs as I reached for the card tucked neatly beneath the tissue paper. Nate’s handwriting was clean and crisp, almost annoying in how neat it was for a man.
I think this is your size.
See you soon.
That was it. There was no romance to it. Nothing that should’ve made my heart go as wild as it suddenly did, but it was just soNatethat I could help it.
He really is a man of few words, even if they’re written, it seems. When did he even have time to sign this?
A laugh escaped me, but I pressed the card against my chest as I looked back at the gown. He noticed things, alright, but he did it quietly and without asking or turning it into a moment that demanded attention or gratitude.
I traced the edge of the silk with my fingertips and my stomach fluttered. As soon as my mind drifted to wondering whether he would be taking this dress off me tonight, I poured myself a glass of the wine to calm the heck down.
After filling the glass just a touch more than halfway, I took a slow sip, letting the warmth of the liquid sliding down my throat settle my nerves. The shower I took after helped too, the hot water working wonders on the tension I’d been carrying around in my shoulders all day.
By the time I was done and my wine was back in my hand, I felt steadier. Functional, at least. I plugged in the hair dryer I’d packed, eyeing my reflection as my damp hair began to frizz and curl in uneven spirals around my face and shoulders.
Normally, this was where I’d wage war, my weapons an army of products, heat tools, and sheer stubbornness, but I paused as I lifted the dryer. Then I lowered it slowly back onto the counter.
I’m just going to let it do its thing. If this goes badly, it’s Nate’s fault anyway.
Instead of all the fuss, I worked a little styling cream through my hair and let it air dry while I finished my makeup, pinning sections back into a deliberately messy bun once the curls settledinto their usual chaotic, bouncy compromise between straight and wavy.
Somehow, I didn’t hate it. In fact, there was a fraction of excitement in my chest over how Nate would react when he saw me like this.He did say he wanted to see my natural curls.
I was slipping on my heels when I heard the other bedroom’s door creak open. When I turned, the smile that had already been forming on my lips disappeared instantly. Jane looked like death warmed over, her face pale and her skin slightly gray. Her hair stuck to her temples. Her eyes were glassy with exhaustion.
“Oh my God,” I said, crossing the room toward her immediately. “I’m calling Alex. You’re not okay.”
“You can call him, but only because you promised you would and he’ll never forgive either of us if you don’t. I’ll be fine but there’s still no universe in which I can go to this party tonight.”
As if to prove the statement, she suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom. I winced at the unmistakable sounds that followed and grabbed my phone, dialing Nate instead of Alex.
He answered almost immediately. “Hey, is everything?—”
“Jane is really sick,” I said quickly. “Like,reallysick, Nate. She only just woke up, but neither of us think she’s going to be able to make it to the party tonight.”
There was a muffled shuffle on his end. Alex’s voice burst through the speaker, loud and panicked. “What? What do you mean she’sreally sick?”
“I mean she’s currently in the bathroom and it doesn’t sound like she’s going to be coming out anytime soon,” I said dryly. “She’s pretty green around the gills.”
