I squeeze her hand, knowing how much this night means to her.
“I wish I were better at this stuff,” I admit.
“At what?”
I shrug. “Talking. Communicating.”
She looks startled. “Why?”
“So I could explain to you how talented you are and how special your art is. So you could see what I see when I look at you. But my words aren’t enough.”
She sniffs and lets go of my hand to rub her eyes. “Darn it, Ronan. Don’t make my mascara run. It’s not waterproof.” But she smiles through the glistening shine of tears in her eyes.
“And I’m not special. I’m just a normal girl. In a very fancy dress, with a superstar next to me.” She laughs. “Come to think of it, maybe I am a little special, but just for tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at her, about to argue, but she holds up her hand.
“Okay, enough with the compliments. Let’s do this, big guy.”
I take her hand back again and lead her up the steps, through the lobby, past the towering Christmas tree, and into the main glittering ballroom.
I thought it might be decorated in red and green, but instead, it’s blue-and-silver. It’s all candles and snowflakes, Christmas trees and silver-wrapped presents.
She falters at the entrance, when every eye in the place seems to stop, turn, and stare—and the buzz of conversation fades to silence.
I’m used to rooms full of people freezing when I enter, but I know Poppy isn’t. So I let her set the pace.
She pulls her shoulders back as if gathering courage, the gesture doing delicious things to her cleavage.
Thankfully, Sadie breaks away from the crowd and launches herself at Poppy.
“You look amazing! You both do.” Sadie’s gaze rakes over me appreciatively before going back to Poppy. “New dress?” she asks in such a way that makes me think Poppy already told her about the dress and where she got it.
She grins, turning one way then the other, the dress moving with her. “Oh, this old thing?” Then she turns her attention to the room. “Everything looks amazing. I mean, we planned it all and decorated it, but it’s even better than I imagined.”
“I know, right? And everyone seems to be having a great time. The band is awesome, and Priyanka outdid herself with the catering. The stuffed mini dosas are to die for. And so are these little phyllo pastry things.”
“How’s the auction going?” Poppy asks.
Sadie frowns. “It’s slow right now. Maybe we should have placed the auction items in the main ballroom instead of in the side room. It seemed like the right space, but no one’s going in there.”
“It’s early yet,” I say to Poppy, who looks worried. “Give it some time.”
“True,” she says, though she still seems concerned.
“Do you want some champagne?” I ask, remembering the last time we were at the inn.
She grins. “I don’t have the hiccups, so I don’t need the cure. But can I have a glass of the Christmas cocktail?”
My mouth curves in satisfaction when I note that the worried look in her eyes has been replaced by laughter.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur. I hold her hand and pull it up to my mouth, not able to stop from kissing her. I’d prefer kissing other locations, but this will do for now. “Sadie, do you want anything?”
“I’m good. Already have it,” she says, holding up a cocktail glass containing a festive-looking drink with cranberries. Her eyes are wide as her gaze darts between me and Poppy, confusion evident on her face.
She may know about the dress, but she doesn’t look like she knows the rest. Which means that Poppy probably didn’t tell her about the other night.
Though I wouldn’t fault her for sharing that with her best friend, I’m relieved. Unlike many celebrities, I’d never required nondisclosure agreements for my dates. I never cared what anyone wrote about me. As long as I believed in what I did, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought.
