If the Stiletto Fits.... Wendy Etherington
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No idea at all.
LIGHT-HEADED FROM her third glass of chardonnay and still depressed and frantic over James’s announcement, Lily sipped her wine and tried hard to focus on the elegant Manhattan restaurant where Brian had brought her. Black linen tablecloths, roses on the table, fine china and crystal, well-dressed patrons and spectacular service.
He certainly had excellent taste, though part of her worried about the expense. Brian’s business wasn’t nearly as successful and stable as hers.
“How are the preparations for the Spring Spectacular coming?” he asked.
Lily chewed a bite of salmon slowly to give herself time to prepare an answer to his question. She settled on a simple “Fine.”
What if this was the last big show she did? What if James’s L.A. contacts dumped her after he left? She really wanted to see a pair of her sparkly shoes on that red carpet again. What if—
She cut herself off in an effort to make coherent conversation. “How do your spring orders look?”
Brian shrugged. “Not sure. My business manager handles all that stuff.”
Though that was true for Lily as well, she certainly knew on a weekly basis how business was progressing.
“So the Spectacular preparations are going well?”
She sighed. “Yes. As usual, James has everything under control. We’re actually ahead of schedule.”
“But are you okay? You seem distracted.”
Lily laid her hand across her stomach. She was regretting this date more by the second. She should have called her friends and spent the night crying on their shoulders. “I think I’m just stressed. It’s been an…interesting day.”
“Oh.” Brian cleared his throat. “Sorry. We’ve had some great times together, don’t you think?”
Struggling to adjust to the change in conversation, she nodded slowly. “Well, yeah, I guess.”
He kicked his smile up a notch. “I think we should take our relationship to the next level.”
Lily suppressed a wince. “Well, I—”
“Will you marry me?”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“I think we should get married.”
This night was just too weird to comprehend. “You’re kidding.” She waved her hand as he opened his mouth to speak. “Doesn’t matter if you’re kidding or not. No.”
Cute, blond, but obviously hard-of-hearing Brian frowned. “No?”
“We’ve only been out a few times. Don’t you think it’s a bit soon to get married?”
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. His blue eyes softened. “When it’s right, why wait?”
Lily tapped her nails against the table. Do you want the whole list, or just the top twenty-five? “I’m not getting married, Brian.”
“We’ll have a long engagement.”
“Ever,” she finished.
“Of course you are, darling. You’re lovely and talented, and you need a partner who’ll support and understand you.”
“That’s what a manager is for.” With James running her life and business affairs, what did she need a husband for? She wouldn’t even think about the possibility that he’d really leave. She would find a way to talk him out of this crazy retirement thing.
Since this was the second time tonight she’d found herself dealing with a man who was dead set on pursing a really bad idea, she figured she’d give the logical argument another swing. “We don’t know each other well enough to get married.”
“I know you.”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Uh…”
“What’s my favorite thing to do?”
“Uh…” He broadened his smile. “We’ll learn all that.”
“Sure we will. It’s called dating.” There was something very odd about all this—not just odd because she hadn’t seen this coming, but suspicious odd. “Don’t most men want sex instead of marriage? Or at least sex first?”
His eyes twinkled. “So glad you brought that up…I’m free after dinner.”
I’ll bet. Sex aside, this was just weird. She and Brian had mild chemistry and business interests in common, but nothing that warranted a proposal. What was really going on? She might be a former farm girl, but she’d lived in the city for ten years. She hadn’t just fallen off the turnip truck.
Lily pulled her hand from his grasp, then leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay. What’s the real deal?”
“We should merge our fashion empires. Think of the possibilities.”
“Our—” She didn’t have a fashion empire—though that was a promising goal—and she knew he didn’t have anything close to an empire. If he didn’t know what his sales were for the spring, he might not even have a business anymore. “So, this is a business proposition, not a proposal.”
“I figured a proposal would better appeal to you as a woman.”
“A lie, as opposed to the truth, you mean.”
He shrugged. “A woman as successful as you needs someone to support her, someone to escort her to functions, someone who won’t be offended when she puts her work first.”
She gasped. The constant reminders about the Spectacular, the seeming lack of direction regarding his business, the way he’d conveniently forgotten his wallet on their last date. It all suddenly made sense. “You’re looking for a sugar mama.”
He looked shocked for a second, then laughed. “I thought that had gone out decades ago. It’s such a charming expression.” Then he stopped abruptly and leaned forward. “Actually, yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind.”
“I see,” she said. She supposed there was still enough of the farm girl in her to actually be shocked by this jaded idea.
“You need a man who’s tied to you legally,” he went on. “One you can trust.”
“I trust James. You, however, I don’t.” She rose and tossed her napkin on her plate. “Goodbye, Brian.”
Eyes wide, Brian stood as well. “Lily, I’m only trying to help. As a woman, you’re in a vulnerable position.”
She stalked two steps forward, planted her four-inch stiletto sandals dangerously close to his instep and glared.