Shoot, I really hadn’t thought this through.
Plus, what are our travel arrangements? When are we leaving? How are we getting there, and how long will we be gone? What do I need to pack?
I’d gotten so carried away by Dillon’s reaction, and excited at the prospect of going away with him, that I hadn’t bothered to worry about the details.
I needed to talk to Dillon.
13
Dillon
“Would you like coffee while you wait for your sister?”
I grinned up at Dolores, who’d been running this diner for as long as I could remember, and said, “Yes, ma’am. Jasmine just texted that she’s almost here, so you can go ahead and pour her a cup as well.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, Dolores.”
Once she walked away, I went back to checking my schedule in my phone. A few seconds later, Jasmine slid into the booth across from me.
I took in her blue power suit, noted her hair pulled back into a sleek tail.
“You look nice,” I said, ignoring the sugar and putting milk in my coffee.
“Thanks, bro, you look pretty snazzy yourself.”
“What, this old thing?” I asked with a grin, smoothing the lapel of my suit.
“You all ready for Boise?” I asked, getting down to business.
Jasmine waved her hand and said, “Yeah, it’s all set … What I wanted to meet with you about was Laurel. More specifically, you taking Laurel to Chicago.”
I sat back in my seat and took in my sister’s face.
She didn’t look upset, or worried that I had designs on her best friend; instead, she looked hopeful. Determined. Usually a determined Jazzy meant trouble, at least for me.
“What about it? Are you going to warn me off her, ‘cause you know you have nothing to worry about…?”
“Nah,” she said, waving her hand dismissively again. “I know that. No, quite the opposite actually.”
“The opposite? You want me to make a play?” I asked, sure I was hearing her wrong.
“God, no,” Jasmine said, scrunching up her nose. “What I want is for you to treat her like a princess this weekend. After everything she’s been through, she deserves a getaway with a man who knows her worth, and knows how to treat a woman, to prove to her that what she’s been through isn’t all that’s out there. I want her to feel precious, and to gain hope, for her future.”
“What happened in Houston?” I asked, needing to know what everyone in my family seemed to know, except me.
“That creep, Travis, happened,” Jasmine began with a sneer. “They met while she was in college, and he seemed nice enough at first, at least, that’s what Laurel told me when we spoke. Then, after they moved to Houston, I went to visit, and finally met the man for myself.”
“And,” I prompted.
Jasmine’s face filled with anger, not an unusual look for my red-haired twin, but I’d never seen that loathing in her eyes before.
“And, I wasn’t there five minutes before he berated her for not picking him up more toothpaste. Toothpaste … he made it sound as if she’d committed a felony, and the look on her face, God, I wanted to punch him. Sorry piece of shit, as if he was incapable of buying his own toiletries. Anyway, it only got worse over the weekend that I stayed with them. He constantly made remarks about the way she looked, things she said, and I even overheard him tell her he was tired of her always fucking things up, when she put more salt than he liked in his eggs. I swear, Dillon, I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hated that guy after five minutes in his presence.”
“Sounds like a real prince,” I said sarcastically. Yes, Laurel had always been a pest and got under my skin with her childhood pranks, but she’d always been a sweet kid. Shy, unless she was with Jazzy, with sorrow in her eyes.
I may have spent the better part of our formative years wanting to ring her neck, but I hated the thought of some guy making her feel worthless, just like her parents always had.
Jasmine scoffed. “Yeah, a true gem. Anyway, I tried to talk to her about it, but she wouldn’t hear it. Said he’d had a bad week at work and was totally sweet to her when they were alone. My feelings about Travis, and his about me, started to drive a wedge between Laurel and me. The only time I got to see her was on her rare trips home.”
“So, what was the final straw?” I asked, knowing something had to happen to cause Laurel to leave this guy.
“He was stealing from her,” Jasmine said through clenched teeth, then morphed into a grin when Dolores approached. “Morning, Dot.”
“Morning,” Dolores said cheerfully. “You’re looking beautiful today.”
“Thanks, hon, so are you.”
“You two ready to order?” she asked.
“I’ll have the biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and bacon.”
Jasmine just laughed, used to my healthy appetite, and said, “I’ll have the French toast with strawberries.”
“You got it,” Dolores said, then went off to put in our order.
“Stealing from her?” I prompted, pissed at the notion that a man would steal from his own woman.
“Yup,” Jasmine said, popping the p. “Everything she’d been saving away to start her party planning business in Houston, he’d slowly been taking right back out of the account.”
“Obviously she found out, did she get the money back?”
Jasmine shook her head with a frown.
“He’d gambled it all away. That was the final straw. The bastard actually had the gall to try and turn it around on her like it was Laurel’s fault he’s a total ass and a shit gambler. She packed up her stuff and left that night. Then, when she got here, her parents tried to talk her in to going back to Houston, back to Travis.”
“They always were assholes,” I said with disgust, starting to feel a new respect for Laurel, and what she’d been through. What she’d overcome.
“That’s why I want you to make this weekend special. Give Laurel a trip unlike any other. Show her how she deserves to be treated.”
14
Laurel
I’d chickened out and texted rather than called Dillon.
Luckily, he’d replied back and let me know what I needed to bring with me, and since I was going as his plus one, the company would be paying for my travel. This was a huge relief, since all of my funds were currently going toward my dream.
I did, however, need the perfect dress to wear to the fundraiser event, and didn’t think the black slinky number I’d worn in my femme fatal moment was the appropriate choice. So, I decided to dip into my account and rent the perfect dress from Rent the Runway. It was gold, sparkly, and would meet me at the hotel the day of the event.
Chloe’s son, Chris, would be watching Princess while I was gone, so I didn’t have to worry about that, and I’d finished packing hours ago.
Now, I was pacing my apartment as I waited for Dillon to pick me up, eager and nervous at the thought of spending the weekend with him. I mean not with him, but we would be spending a lot of time together. More than we probably ever had in one sitting in our lives. The thought thrilled me even as it made my stomach turn.
What if he regrets asking me?
What if he ignores me all weekend?
What if it’s awful?
I promised myself that if Dillon started being a douche I’d let him do his own thing all weekend, but keep my word and go with him to the fundraiser event. Then, once we got back, my debt would be paid and we could go back to ignoring each other at holidays and events.
I really hoped that wouldn’t happen, though.
“He’s here, Princess, Mama’s gotta go,” I said, when I saw the black Lincoln pull up.
I picked her up and kissed her head, before placing her on the couch and grabbing my purse, travel bag, and rolling suitcase.
When I got outside, Dillon was waiting next to the car with the trunk open, and as soon as he saw me, he crossed to take my things and put them in the trunk. I was s
till standing on the sidewalk, surprised, when he came back around and opened the passenger door for me.
“You look great today,” Dillon said.
I slowly looked down at the leggings and long tunic I’d thrown on for the trip, then back up at him.
“Uh, thanks,” I replied, finally finding my feet and moving slowly toward him. “So do you,” I added, and he really did.
Dillon looked great in a suit, but casual Dillon would always be my favorite.
Jeans, a green V-neck that matched his eyes, and his hair slightly mussed was a really good look on him.
I slid into the car, then watched as he shut the door and rounded the hood before getting in the driver’s seat. He turned the music on low and drove us to the airport. It was a short trip that we filled with small talk, and by the time we parked and walked into the airport my nerves had eased.
It seemed as if Dillon had decided to make this trip as enjoyable as possible, and I was grateful for it.
We boarded the plane as first-class passengers, and I couldn’t contain my grin as I sat in the plush seats with plenty of leg room. Dillon put our carry-on’s overhead before taking his seat on the aisle, and we were buckling in when the flight attendant came over.
“Here are you blankets and pillows. Would you like a beverage while waiting for takeoff?”
“I’ll have a scotch,” Dillon said, then turned to me and asked, “Pinot Noir?”
I nodded and gave the flight attendant a smile.
After she walked away, I said, “Drinks and blankets without asking? You guys really live large up here in first class.”
Dillon chuckled and replied, “Just wait until you see the in-flight entertainment and gourmet meals.”
“Really?” I asked, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. “I could get used to this.”
“Here you are,” I heard the flight attendant say, so I opened my eyes and sat back up, accepting the glass of wine she offered.
“Thank you,” I murmured, then took a sip. “Wow, that’s good.”
“Mmmhmm,” Dillon said, his lips around his own glass.
Trying not to focus on those lips, I averted my attention back in front of me and asked, “So, what’s the plan for this weekend?”
“Well,” Dillon began, settling in. “Tomorrow morning we’ll get up bright and early, grab some breakfast, then head to the convention. I’m afraid it’ll be mostly sporting goods, suppliers, and the like, but there will actually be some marketing, PR, and supply companies that you may be interested in seeing … gather stuff for your business.”
“Really?” The possibility of there being vendors I could use hadn’t even crossed my mind. Excited, I turned my head toward him and said, “That’ll be great.”
Dillon nodded and resumed, “Tomorrow night is the fundraiser, dinner, and ballet, and then Sunday we will hit the convention again until it closes at noon. Then, we head back. Quick and painless.”
“It sounds like fun,” I assured him, because to me, it really did, and that was before I’d learned there would actually be information and contacts at the convention that I could use. No, being with Dillon for the weekend, when he was acting like this, like we were friends, was like utopia to me.
“I think so, too,” he replied with a smile, then rolled his head toward me and asked, “But I was thinking tonight we’d drop off our things, then go out for a nice dinner in the city. What do you think?”
“Sounds perfect,” I replied, unable to tear my eyes away from his emerald gaze.
Hope filled my chest as I mentally cataloged what I’d brought with me, and tried to figure out what I could wear for a night out with Dillon.
15
Dillon
I waited at the bar, scrolling through emails and messages on my phone as I sipped my scotch, neat.
The plane ride had been blissfully quick and uneventful. I’d found Laurel’s excitement and childlike wonder of sitting in first class charming and refreshing. It had been nice to have a normal conversation with her without tales of our past, pranks, or bitter memories muddying the waters.
I found I was beginning to like present-day Laurel, and was looking forward to spending the evening with her.
“Hey,” I heard Laurel say timidly from behind me.
I turned with a smile, then faltered slightly at first glance.
Whereas before she’d stunned in a sexy, slinky black dress, tonight she was pure class in black slacks with a sheer, floral blouse. Her hair was long and loose, in stylish waves, and her makeup was tastefully done.
“You look beautiful,” I said, without any pretense. I always spoke the truth, and right then, the truth was that Laurel looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her look. Although I had never said it out loud before, I’d always grudgingly admitted that she was one of the loveliest women I’d ever seen. Even when we were younger.
It was the summer of my twelfth year, right before eighth grade, and we were all hanging out at the springs.
It had been Gabe’s idea to play Truth or Dare, and as usual, we all went along with Gabe. He was our leader of sorts, and we usually ended up doing whatever he wanted. It helped that he always had cool ideas.
Although, now that we were getting older I was wishing we hung out with more girls that weren’t family. And Laurel. The last couple times I’d seen her, I’d noticed how long her hair was getting, and how much blonder it was in the sun.
And when we arrived at the springs, I couldn’t help but notice the way she was beginning to fill out her bathing suit, as she shimmied out of her jean shorts and t-shirt.
For the first time ever, I found myself hoping someone would dare us to kiss. Lord knew I could never kiss her on my own, but if it was a dare, then I could do it without getting a charley horse from my sister.
But of course, when I chose Dare, Gabe dared Jazzy and me to a swim race, and by the time we got back, with me as the winner, it was time to go home.
Laurel’s cheeks reddened slightly, and her lips turned up with pleasure at my compliment.
“Thanks. Are you ready, or would you like to finish your drink? I can order something…” she trailed off when I shook my head and stood.
“I’m ready,” I assured her, then placed my hand at the small of her back and led her out of the bar, through the lobby, and out of the hotel. “I hope you’re hungry, I was able to get us in to Alinea, in the Salon.”
“Oh, I haven’t heard of Alinea, is it good?” she asked as I helped her into the waiting Uber.
Once I settled in next to her and confirmed our destination with the driver, I turned to her and explained, “I’ve only been there one other time, and we were in The Gallery, not the Salon, but it was an experience unlike any other I’ve ever had. You have to see it to believe it, but I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“Well, in that case, I can’t wait,” Laurel said, pulling out her compact to check her makeup.
I watched her face as we walked inside and were seated. She was so expressive, so full of wonder at everything around her, that I found myself anticipating her reaction to each of the fourteen courses we’d be experiencing that evening.
“We’ll take the wine pairing,” I said, looking to Laurel for agreement, then smiling when she nodded.
After the first course, the Trout Roe, was delivered, Laurel brought her bright eyes to mine and exclaimed, “That’s the most gorgeous dish of food I’ve ever seen. I’m almost afraid to eat it.”
“Just wait,” I assured her, “Each dish is more amazing than the last.”
In between magnificent dishes, I asked her about herself mostly, the time when she did not live in Cherry Springs, noting that she skirted over the issues with her ex.
I knew that what Jasmine had told me had been in confidence, and could tell that Laurel wasn’t ready to tell me about her asshole ex herself. So, I allowed her assumption that I knew nothing about Travis to stand, and decided to keep the evening light and enjoyable for her
. We could always get into the details of her relationship later, when Laurel was ready to discuss it.
“I took a job working as an assistant to one of the largest wedding coordinators in Houston, and although I learned a ton from her, I knew I wanted to open a business of my own. So, I saved my money and sucked everything I could from that job. I have at least a dozen notebooks filled with ideas and notes about what did and didn’t work.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen, you have a solid plan, and, like I said, I think Cherry Springs will love taking advantage of what you’re going to offer.”
“Thanks, I can’t tell you how much I value your opinion,” she said, and I could tell that she meant it.
And for some reason, not only did her words warm me deep inside, but I realized that I was beginning to like everything about this night. About Laurel. The way she dressed, the way she enjoyed the moment, and especially the way she looked at me.
Had she always looked at me like that?
16
Laurel
I felt like I was floating on a cloud.
Although I knew it wasn’t actually a date, it sure felt like one. No, there were no flowers, or moments of subtle touching, but the restaurant was amazing … magical … and the conversation was wonderful.
I couldn’t think of a time when Dillon and I had ever sat down together, just the two of us, and had an honest-to-goodness conversation. I loved it, and was having the best time, so when Dillon asked if I wanted to stop in the hotel bar for a drink after dinner, my answer was a resounding yes.
Dillon put his hand on my lower back again, guiding me inside, but rather than going to the bar, he led us to a booth away from the few patrons in the place.
I tried not to swoon at the ghost of that hand but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Dillon treating me like a woman, a lady, rather than an annoying friend of his sisters was enough to break down all of my defenses and leave me in a puddle at his feet.