Page 8 of A Prince for Christmas

A hot shower got rid of the cobwebs, and I realized I was glad the week was starting. With the exception of drinks with Polly and Adam, it had been a lousy weekend. Not even a call from Fred, and homework from Sunday morning until I left for work. I’d tried not to be disappointed when I realized Nick wasn’t scheduled until Tuesday, but I had been. He tended to cheer me up, and I had really needed some cheering up.

I didn’t bother to check my messages until I had my oatmeal and yogurt ready. The first was a short message from Jenny, to let me know that Aurora, her bay mare, had foaled, and she’d named the colt Benji. It didn’t seem like a really dignified name for an animal that could grow into a prize stallion, but I had to admit it was a cute name. I didn’t raise my misgivings about the name in my congratulatory text.

There were also a couple of class reminders, a solicitation from my cell phone company, and a notice from my credit card company that I was approaching my credit limit.

The last text was from Fred. I braced myself before opening it. Every time we spoke, we seemed to argue. Oh well, get it over with.

I clicked to open the message and read it with surprise.

Emily, been kind of an ass. Dinner tnite?

Sure. What time?

By the time I’d washed the breakfast dishes, I had my answer:

Pick u up at 7

Since my last class finished at 5:30, that didn’t give me too much time to get ready, but we both had early classes most days, so early dates were best. I wondered if he’d want to come over afterwards as I walked toward my first class. The idea gave me a funny feeling that I wasn’t sure I cared for. I wasn’t sure I really wanted him to come over, which made me feel guilty on top of everything else.

Shaking off my doubts, I reminded myself that nothing about Fred had changed since we started dating. I must be the one who had changed. Or maybe it was that Fred hadn’t changed, hadn’t grown emotionally since I met him.

I scolded myself for my unkind thoughts. I might not have had a date for Saturday night, but at least I had one for Monday. Fred was making time for me, which was all I wanted.

The day passed quickly, as most of my classes were fairly interesting. My long break in the middle of the day allowed me to get the morning’s assignments done, so that wouldn’t interfere with my time with Fred.

I kept checking my phone in case he texted me, hoping he’d tell me where we were going, but my phone was silent except for the usual robocalls. I could text him, but I was afraid he might consider it nagging. He was always accusing me of nagging him, although that’s not the term I would have used. I just wanted to know what was happening.

It really didn’t matter, though. Although Bozeman had a couple of fancy restaurants, he had never taken me anywhere that required more than a good pair of jeans or a casual dress.

My 4:30 class was not too complicated, so I did what I could to prepare for our date, trying to imagine scenarios that didn’t end in a big fight or stony silence. It wasn’t as easy as it should have been.

Imagining what I would wear was more productive. This relationship seemed to be teetering on the brink of something, so I decided to go all out, in a casual sort of way. By the time I got home about 5:45, I knew just what I wanted to wear.

A quick shower, hair up this time since I’d shampooed this morning, and a quick shave here and there, just in case… I blushed at the thought, which meant it had been way too long.

I started with my best red undies, the only set I had that actually matched. Then I pulled on a set of black tights—you didn’t want to be flashing bare skin this late in November in Montana. Finally, I pulled on a sequined turquoise sweater dress with a moderately low neck, long sleeves, and a skirt so short I had to double-check to make sure nothing personal was showing from the back. I was pleased with what I saw in the mirror, but I wasn’t done. Putting on a little fresh make-up, I added another layer of mascara to my lashes, and a touch more color than usual on my cheeks and lips.

I took my favorite necklace, a mountain lion carved of turquoise, and switched it from a chain to a black ribbon, which I tied around my neck to wear as a choker. Finally, I piled my wavy, auburn hair on top of my head, with long tendrils framing my face, and fastened a couple of turquoise clips in it. I added my favorite turquoise ring, a simple band carved with animal symbols, and considered applying nail polish.

Deciding that was too obvious, and also too much bother, I turned to my meager shoe collection. It was either the high black pumps or my favorite high-heeled boots, which were unfortunately brown rather than black. Still, the skirt was just too short for the pumps, and the brown boots gave a nice balance to the short skirt.

Finally, I went to the front coat closet and took out the only piece of clothing I really cared about. It was a three-quarter length beaver coat, with beautiful mink collar and cuffs. The coat had belonged to my grandmother and had been relined at least three times. Grandma had worn it until she died, and Mom had worn it until I was old enough. She paid to have it cleaned, the lining fixed, and have it stored each year. That was wonderful, but it also meant that there was a time when I would have to pass it down to Jenny, to enjoy until it was time to hand it on to Lizzie, my youngest sister. I just hoped to keep it until I married, in case I had a winter wedding.

For a moment, I tried to imagine walking down the aisle with Fred. I’d thought of it before, and although it didn’t bring the rush of excitement people in movies and books always had, I’d always been a practical girl. Not everyone could have movie love, after all. Besides, maybe I just wasn’t ready for marriage.

Why else would the image give me a distinct uneasy feeling?

I pushed the thought out of my mind and focused on where he might be taking me. Usually, we discussed these things, but he hadn’t said a word. Did that mean it was going to be special? Trying not to get my hopes up too much, I considered the options. There was our favorite pizza parlor, where the wine was cheap and the pasta was hand-made; and the Montana Grill, whose bison was to die for. Maybe he’d even be feeling adventurous and take me out for sushi.

At ten till seven, I remembered that I hadn’t worn perfume. I went to the bathroom and contemplated the three scents on the counter. One was a light, fresh scent that reminded me of flowers in an alpine meadow. I loved it, but it didn’t match the outfit. Then there was my vintage scent, Jungle Gardenia. I was crazy about it, but it made Fred sneeze. Lately, I’d only used it to put a drop in the bathtub when I treated myself to a hot bath.

That left the scent Fred had bought for my birthday. Piney with a hint of something bitter, I didn’t care much for it. If the initial scent wasn’t enough, the unpleasant undertone seemed to linger, and I could often smell it hours after putting it on. However, Fred had bought it, and every time I made myself wear it, he commented how much he liked it.

With a sigh, I applied it sparingly to my wrists and my navel, just in case. I just couldn’t put it between my breasts or on my neck if I was going to be able to eat.

The doorbell rang as I was finishing up. I’d never given Fred a key or asked for one from him. When one of us stayed over, it was a one-night-at-a-time thing.

I didn’t hurry to the door, because I wanted to look poised and gorgeous. I struck a deliberately casual pose as I opened the door.