She rummaged around in a huge jewelry case, then handed me a pair of garnet earrings. After I put them on, she fastened a matching necklace around my throat.
I brushed my fingers over the beautiful stones, marveling at how perfectly they matched the dress, how well they suitedme.
Merilee examined me thoughtfully, then nodded. “Just one more thing.”
She came up behind me and gathered my hair, twisting it into a sleek, sexy updo, then pinned it into place. When finished, she rested her hands on my shoulders, regarding my reflection in the mirror like an artist admiring a finished piece.
“Whit won’t be able to take his eyes off you,” she said softly.
Her fingertips drifted down my arm, a feather-light caress that brought an icy tingle to my skin, then her arms snaked around my waist, her chin settling onmy shoulder. “I wore this dress one night with my lover.” Her lips curved into a wicked grin. “We never made it to dinner, but we certainly danced.”
As she spoke, I grew lightheaded. The room tilted. I felt drunk. Drunk like the night I’d had too much of Junior’s elderberry wine. I tried to tell her that I needed to leave, that I needed to lie down until the world stopped spinning, but my tongue felt heavy.
“I don’t think…” I managed, slurring.
“Shhh,” she soothed. “No need to think, Zellie-girl. You’ll do just fine…”
When I abruptly snapped out of my brain fog, I was sitting on the couch in my apartment while Henry played with his action figure on the coffee table. He was talking to me, telling me a story.
What was it he said? He’d mentioned Ms. Netty…
“What was that, baby?” I asked, frowning as I tried to focus despite the pounding in my head.
“Ms. Netty told me that she was supposed to be young again,” he said, “but Mr. Whit wouldn’t let her.”
I shook my head slightly, my frown deepening. “What does that mean?” I asked. “It doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
Henry shrugged. “Ms. Netty says a lot of funny things. She told me Ms. Merilee was her sister and that she didn’t like her anymore.”
I sighed. “Oh, baby. Ms. Netty…” How was I supposed to explain dementia to a five-year-old? “She gets confused sometimes. I’m betting she had a sister once and that Ms. Merilee just reminds Ms. Netty of her.”
“Okay,” Henry said with another shrug. “Maybe somebody should tell her that.”
I gave him a sad smile, wishing life was as simple as it seemed through his eyes. “Maybe so.”
Chapter eighteen
When I awoke the next morning, the first thing I saw was the borrowed dress from Merilee hanging on my closet door, and I smiled, determined to focus on my upcoming date with Whit instead of the strange events at Merilee and Netty’s apartment. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t experienced things one hell of a lot stranger already at Dawes House.
There was a bounce in my step, a happiness I couldn’t suppress as I left for work that morning, but the sight of Billy Wayne standing in front of the elevator doors when Henry and I came downstairs brought me up short. The man made my skin crawl. Even if I hadn’t known what an asshole he was to Kitty, I wouldn’t have liked him. There was something about him that was just…off. Menacing. Dangerous.
“Good morning,” I said politely as we passed.
He cast a surly look my way and said nothing before stepping into the elevator.
“I think he has his grumpy pants on,” Henry told me, rolling his eyes.
“Mind your manners, sir,” I said with a warning look, but softening it with a grin.
Iris was already at the front desk when I left Henry with June. I wished her good morning on my way out, but then paused and turned back, needing to ask the questions that had been nagging me for days.
“I saw Billy Wayne earlier,” I told her. “He was even more disgusted by my presence than usual. Is everything okay?”
Iris shook her head on a sigh. “You haven’t heard yet? Their baby didn’t make it. Poor little thing just wasn’t strong enough.”
“Oh, God, no,” I breathed. “No, I hadn’t heard that. How’s Kitty taking it?”
Iris cast her eyes down at the paperwork on her desk and didn’t immediately answer. “She was beside herself. Couldn’t bear the loss.”
