bus drops me off a block away from the hotel. So I’m walking, and the wind turns my cute little purse-size umbrella into a useless piece of junk. And there I am, in the middle of a storm. I’ve got a newspaper over my head to protect this glamorous hairstyle. I’m struggling with my crappy umbrella, and some jerk comes flying down the street and splatters the back of my dress with mud. Can you believe that?”
“Uh, is that your garbage bag?” he asked, pointing toward the crumpled black plastic on the counter.
“That’s not a garbage bag. It’s my handy-dandy-fold-up rain slicker,” she said with exaggerated cheerfulness. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”
“I feel really bad—for you—because you’ve been through so much tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Shayna sighed, resigned to her fate. “It’s not your fault.”
Despite her reassurance, Max looked even more distressed.
“But could you do me a favor and call me a cab? I can’t go out there.”
Max frowned. “What? Leaving so soon? Come on now. You obviously went through a lot to get here. This evening is still salvageable.”
Shayna placed a hand on her hip. “Are you kidding me? I realize that nothing in life ever fazes you, Max, but even you’ve got to see that I have a problem here. My dress is ruined, so are my shoes. And I don’t even want to talk about my hair.”
Max stepped back for a moment, studying her. “We can work with this.”
Shayna just stared at him. This was a nightmare and she was going to wake up any minute.
“Let’s start with the dress,” he said, taking off his jacket. He handed it to her. “Try this on.”
Too confused to do anything else, she put on the lightweight jacket. Of course it was too big.
Max stepped forward, rolled up the sleeves and arranged the lapels. He stepped back, surveying his work. Shayna just stood there like a dressmaker’s dummy.
“Not bad.” He nodded.
She turned to the full-length mirror on her right. She never would have believed it, but the jacket helped a lot. She made a full circle. The jacket just brushed the hem of her dress, hiding the mud on the back of her skirt. From the front, her dress, which had been shielded by her broken umbrella, was clean, and the jacket hung in gentle folds on either side.
“It’s not bad, but what about my hair? And my shoes. I can’t go out there with the heel of my shoe missing.”
He touched her cheek. “You’re on your own with the hair, babe. But I can do something about the shoes. What size?”
“What?”
“What size? There’s a department store across the street. They don’t close until nine-thirty.”
Shayna was dumbfounded. “You’re going to buy me new shoes?”
He grinned. “Sure. Why not?”
Shayna sighed. Why not? “Well, let me get you some money.”
“Forget it. What size?”
“Seven, but—”
“Be right back.” He slipped out the door as suddenly as he’d appeared.
She turned back to the mirror. At least this evening couldn’t get any weirder. Ugh. What was she going to do about this hair?
Before Max returned, Shayna managed to retouch her makeup and pull her hair into a respectable French braid with light bangs falling over her forehead. The overall effect wasn’t stunning, but it was decent.
Two women had come in to fix their lipstick, when Max strolled in like he belonged there. “Hi, ladies,” he said, casually handing Shayna a bag from the shoe store.
She had to laugh when the two women exchanged looks, then hurried out.
Shayna pulled a pair of pearl gray pumps, the exact color of Max’s jacket, from the box. “These are beautiful.” She slipped them on, feeling like Cinderella.
She turned to the mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe this evening would turn out okay after all. She looked at her watch. Nine o’clock. There was still time to find Phillip and—
“Shayna! Watch out!”
Max grabbed her arm and pulled her forward just as a ceiling tile fell right where she’d been standing.
Shayna stared into her half-empty glass of white wine, fighting down a yawn. Who would have guessed that Phillip Browning, Jr. was such an incredible bore?
Her eyes had glazed over twenty minutes ago and Phillip had yet to notice. Not once had he asked her a single question about herself or her business. Instead, he stood next to her, droning on about his mention in Ebony magazine and his software products.
She couldn’t stand another minute of this, Shayna thought, glancing around for an escape route. From his spot at the buffet table, Max caught her eye and raised his glass in a cheerful salute. Shayna raised her glass in return, feeling another guilty twinge for the way she’d shrugged him off outside the ladies’ room.
He’d looked out for her tonight, pulling her out of the way before a rain-soaked ceiling tile would have fallen on her. She owed him for that…and more.
Max might not be her ideal dating material, but they definitely had the beginnings of a good friendship. She was just about to go over and tell him so, when Ruth Warner, MBO’s president, appeared at the podium for some closing announcements.
“I hope you have enjoyed tonight’s mixer. Let’s give Lynette Franklin and Ronald Johnson a big round of applause for making tonight a success.”
Everyone looked to the back of the room where Lynette and Ronald unclasped hands to wave and smile in response to the applause. The couple had become engaged six months after their first meeting. Lynette was the inspiration for Shayna’s eligible bachelors list. If Lynette could find Mr. Right among MBO’s membership, why couldn’t she?
Shayna glanced sideways at Phillip. He was definitely out of the running. How could she get involved with a man who couldn’t stop talking long enough to notice her? Thankfully, there were still two more names on her list. Candidate number two, Frederick Montgomery, wasn’t present that night, but the successful accountant was very active in the organization. Shayna was certain she’d run into him at the next event, which Ruth had just begun to announce.
“I hope to see you all on Monday night for our annual fund-raiser bake sale. Last year we raised over two thousand dollars. Let’s work toward breaking that record this year.”
Phillip leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I contributed significantly to last year’s profit with my grandmother’s award-winning
