around her and tried hard to keep believing.
It wasn’t always easy.
But she tried. Peatie and Ella’s enthusiasm had been infectious and she’d left the house in the fire-engine red dress, which, as it turned out, hugged her figure in all the right places, and made her look more lithe and elegant than she’d ever dreamed she could.
“You can’t tell what something’s going to look like until you take it off the rack and try it on,” Ella had said. “The dress doesn’t make you stunning, it’s the other way around.”
“I don’t know,” Jane had answered, still breathless from the dramatic enhancement she’d seen in the mirror. “I still think this is some sort of miracle dress.”
“It’s a few yards of fabric,” Peatie had said, and Ella nodded. “What you’re looking at is you.”
Jane had smiled at that. Perhaps it was true. Somehow she felt more like herself than she ever had before, even though she had thought it would be the opposite. She felt proud and confident, or at least as close to confident as she could come, given that she was still Jane. Anyway, she’d left the house—that was progress.
Now every step she took added a spark to her emotionally charged anticipation. It was like wearing tap shoes on a subway line. What would Trey think? Would he see her as the same old plain Jane she’d always been or would he finally see her as the woman she thought maybe—just maybe—she truly was?
Her long auburn hair was curled into Pre-Raphaelite ringlets that tumbled across her shoulders in an unfamiliar way. She’d talked Peatie and Ella out of the red-red lipstick they’d suggested, but the dusty-rose she wore instead felt just as conspicuous. Plus it made her mouth look huge and pouty. Her lashes, thick and long with black mascara, seemed to stick together for an instant every time she blinked.
And she blinked a lot, because Peatie had insisted she take off her “sex-prevention glasses”, so everything in the distance had a tendency to blur. Her one small concession to herself was that she’d snuck the glasses into the small clutch bag Ella had thrust upon her.
But in her secret heart, she felt great.
She stopped at the coat check. With one final steadying breath, she took off the coat. A cool breeze drifted through the front door. Her legs, covered in the sheerest silk stockings, felt nude. She congratulated herself for having had the good sense to override Peatie’s suggestion that she wear high heels, and instead wore good, solid pumps.
“You can do this,” she told herself under her breath. “You can do it.”
“I beg your pardon, madame?” the maître d’ asked, coming away from his station. The older couple in front of her looked miffed at his abandonment. “Is there some way I can be of service to you?”
It was one of the first times in recent history she hadn’t felt invisible in public.
Panic filled her. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. “I’m just looking for my party. Thank you.” With the maître d’s gaze still burning on her skin, she turned to rush from the restaurant. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. There was no way in the world she could pull this off. She’d leave a message for Trey, apologizing. Maybe even resigning.
The door was within reach. She could feel the chilly night air on her skin. All she had to do was get her coat and—
Wham! She slammed into something, or rather someone, at full force and dropped her purse, spilling the contents across the red, carpeted floor.
Jane dropped to the floor in a frantic scramble to pick the contents up, lest someone should see some embarrassing personal item.
“Pardon me,” a familiar voice offered, bending down before her to help pick up the purse’s contents. She saw a head of dark, shining hair before they stood and he handed her glasses back to her. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” With sudden realization, she gave a self-conscious laugh. It was Trey, dressed to the nines in his most flattering dark, navy-blue suit. She’d seen him in it a thousand times, but the sight always took her breath away. The fit was perfection over his broad shoulders and tapered wonderfully to his slim hips without looking like it was trying too hard.
When he looked at her, his gray eyes took on an unusual light. “Have we met?” His voice was smooth and confident, but the thing that struck her was that it held no recognition whatsoever.
Was he joking? “Almost every day for five years.”
His smile froze. His questioning eyes searched hers. “Jane? My God, is that you?”
She nodded and tried not to yank the scooped neckline of her dress up higher.
“Are you sure?”
She frowned. “What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just—nothing at all.”
“Am I late?”
“No, not at all.” He looked back at her. “I was early.” Slowly, his eyes wandered over her, from her hair to her mouth down her body and back to her eyes. “You really look different.”
She blinked. “I thought this dress would be okay.”
“It is, it’s…more than okay. I mean, you look terrific.” He shook his head with a long, slow intake of breath. “Just great.” He expelled the breath. “Wow.”
She couldn’t breathe at all. “Thanks.”
He raked his hand across his hair and looked down for a moment. Then he looked back at her with an intensity in his eyes that took her breath away. “So, are you ready to go on with the show?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll need this.” He dug into his pocket and took out a small velvet box. He opened it and took out a huge diamond ring. “As of now, you’re my fiancée, so you’d better put it on.” He handed the ring to her.
She took it. It was the largest diamond Jane had ever seen. It even felt heavy in the palm of her hand. “I’m a little nervous about taking responsibility for this.”
“Go on. It’s just for dinner. What could happen?”
She tried the ring on her trembling hand. “It’s a little loose,” she said, noticing how easily it slid over her knuckle.
“We could have it—” Trey stopped himself. “I mean, if anyone were to notice it didn’t fit we could say we were going to have it sized.”
Jane nodded and took a steadying breath. “This must have cost a fortune.”
“Somewhere around thirty-five thousand bucks.” He looked at the ring. “It seems like a lot for a chunk of carbon.”
“How on earth can you afford such a thing?”
He gave a rueful smile. “I can’t. It’s on loan from a jeweler friend of mine.” He hesitated and they both considered the weight of his words. “I’m returning it in a few days.”
“I’ll
