but no, my date should be here any minute,” she replied. She smiled after she said it. My fiancé, she corrected silently, then allowed herself the indulgence of a fantasy. She pictured a shiny white limousine pulling to the curb, a black-capped chauffeur stepping out to open the door for her. Inside, Jack sat on supple leather seats holding out a flute of champagne, his smile warm with promise. Tess gave herself a mental shake as Jack’s tan rental sedan pulled to the curb. What was wrong with her? This was no date. It was playacting, two people pretending to be intimately acquainted and doing it for a small, exclusive audience. She pushed aside the sharp twinge of disappointment she felt and concentrated on the evening ahead.
A thought occurred to her as they headed down Fifth Street to the Saint Sebastian. “Jack, if we’re supposed to be engaged, shouldn’t I know more about you than just your name?”
“Good point. Let’s see, I graduated from Northwestern University with a degree in accounting. That’s also where I got my master’s in business administration.” He gave her his full attention while they waited for a traffic light to change. “I was born in Chicago. My father moved back to the Windy City a couple of years ago. My mom’s in Aspen, and I have one older sister, Kirsten, who’s rather nomadic, but she’s living in California these days. I’ve been living in Boston and working for a company there.”
The light turned green and the car pulled forward.
“Should I be from Boston, too?” she asked.
He thought a minute, then shook his head. “No, I think you should be from Chicago. You have a Midwest accent.”
She shrugged, taking his word for it, although she had never considered herself to have an accent of any sort.
“Okay, so how did we meet if you live in Boston?”
“Hmm. How old are you?” he asked, glancing sideways.
“Twenty-four.”
He pursed his lips. “Well, that pretty much rules out college. How about, we met when I went home to visit family a few years ago, and we’ve maintained a long-distance relationship ever since, waiting for you to finish college and me to find my dream job before we settled down.”
It sounded rather romantic to Tess, and much more exciting than her own boring life, but she replied in a bland voice, “I guess that’s plausible.” She couldn’t resist asking, “Just how old are you?”
“I’m not robbing-the-cradle old,” he insisted with a throaty chuckle that had her smiling in return. She liked the sound of his laughter, and the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between them.
“Just how old is ‘not robbing-the-cradle old’?” she asked.
“I’m only thirty-two.”
“Thirty-two, huh?” She gave him a quick once-over and said, “Looking at you, I’d have to say you’ve aged remarkably well.” The teasing tone of her voice sounded flirtatious even to her own ears. It wasn’t like her to flirt. In fact, she hadn’t realized she knew how. The man certainly had an odd effect on her. When he glanced curiously in her direction, Tess busied herself rummaging through her purse for some breath mints.
They arrived at the hotel five minutes later and bustled inside. While they waited for the elevator, Jack spared a glance in the direction of the restaurant.
“Well, it doesn’t appear our dinner companions have arrived yet,” he said, sounding relieved. As they stepped into the elevator, they continued to discuss their bogus courtship.
A minute later, the elevator reached the seventh floor. When the double doors slid open, the easy banter they had been sharing evaporated along with the saliva in Tess’s mouth. As she waited for him to unlock the door to his room, she looked anxiously up and down the corridor, half expecting someone she knew to pop out and ask her what she was doing going into a strange man’s hotel room. The hall remained empty, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was doing something illicit, especially when Jack finally managed to open the door to his room and stood at the threshold waiting for her. She brushed past him, feeling awkward and foolish, but then she spied the dress he had laid ever so carefully across the bed’s floral comforter and her mouth fell open.
“You said size six, right?” He stood just behind her, and she could swear she felt his warm breath feather across the nape of her neck when he spoke.
“Six, yes,” she repeated, transfixed. Basic and black, it was easily the most elegant dress Tess had ever seen. It reminded her a bit of the sleek number Audrey Hepburn had worn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She heard a wistful sigh, and realized it was her own. She adored Audrey Hepburn, but she especially loved her in that movie. It was as if he had known, she thought, then chided herself for being silly. They were strangers, after all. He barely knew her name, let alone what old movies she preferred.
But the man had taste; she would say that for him. She had spent the afternoon agonizing over what kind of a dress he would pick out for her to wear. Would it be sleazy or too prim? Would it be in some horrendous shade that would clash with her flaming hair? But Jack had chosen well.
She decided he must have driven over to the mall in Piedmont during the afternoon. Pleasant River certainly didn’t have any place that carried such stylish evening dresses. She spied the label stitched just inside the neckline and, limited though her exposure to designer fashions was, she knew it must have cost him a mint.
“The lady at the store helped me pick it out,” he said. “Um, she also helped pick out the, uh, other things.” He coughed a little self-consciously, and for the first time Tess noticed the lacy black slip and sheer hose lying next to the dress on the bed.
“Oh,” was all she could manage, grateful he stood behind her and could not watch her face redden.
“The shoes were a little trickier. I hope they’re comfortable.” His tone was dubious.
Tess noticed the pair of strappy black leather heels lined up at the foot of the bed next to a pair of size-eleven men’s dress shoes. For some reason the sight of their footwear sharing space next to a bed seemed more intimate than the fact the man had helped pick out her unmentionables.
“Well, everything seems to be in order,” he said, rubbing his hands together. He walked to the closet and pulled out a new suit. It was double-breasted and the color of charcoal, with the barest hint of a pinstripe. She noticed the tags still dangling from the cuff. At her questioning gaze, he offered a careless shrug.
“The chili didn’t come out. I guess you could say my American Express card got quite the workout today, especially since I had to have them do a rush job on the alterations.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to forestall the apology that she was about to offer. “Don’t say you’re sorry, Tess. After tonight, we’re more than even.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “I won’t apologize. But can I say thank you?”
He grinned, that sexy little dimple tugging in his cheek. “You’re welcome. Now we’d better get ready. I can change in the bathroom, unless you’d like to freshen up first?”
“Yes, please. I think I smell like chili dogs.” She crinkled her nose. “I’ll just take the dress and the other things in there with me,” she told him, quickly gathering them up. “I won’t be long.”
