everything that has gone wrong between us.”
Her fingers sought out one of his fists, uncurling it to place the ring in the palm of his hand.
“I know you’re worried that one day I’ll wake up and become her again. But you were right. I have a choice. Even if I recover my memory tomorrow, I’m promising you that I’m changing the person I was. I’d like to try making this work with you, with or without amnesia.”
Since day one, Will knew her memory coming back would be the relationship killer. His interest and attraction to her would no doubt be erased by the return of her old personality. It was the thing he clung to, the last barrier he used to keep from letting himself get too close. And she’d just taken it away, leaving him exposed to her and their new possibilities together.
“Let’s try to make a new relationship out of the wreckage of the one we destroyed. We can date, get to know each other as we are now. The world can continue to think we’re engaged, including my father. And if and when,” she said, her hand covering the one in which he held the ring, “you want to give that back to me…okay.”
Cynthia watched Will’s face for any sign that she wasn’t about to be single and homeless, dragging two hundred pairs of shoes behind her down the street, but he was so hard to read. It wasn’t until his other hand covered hers that she was able to take a breath.
“Okay,” he agreed, although his face was still lined with concern. She understood that. She’d obviously hurt him. Giving the ring back was evidence of her good-faith effort to make this work. In time, she hoped that they could make new memories to help mask the old ones. It would be a slow process, but she would take it one step at a time to be certain she did it right.
“I look forward to getting to know you,” she said with a crooked smile and an awkwardly adolescent bump to his shoulder. “I like what I’ve learned so far.”
His expression softened and he smiled, too. “It’s been a long time since I’ve dated,” he admitted. “I might be a little rusty.”
“That’s okay,” she said with a shrug, “I don’t remember ever going on a real date, so I’ll be easy to impress.”
At that, he laughed. It was the first real laugh she’d heard, and it was everything she hoped it would be. It was a deep, sexy rumble that vibrated in her chest and made her want to cling to him and bury her face in his neck.
“I’m glad your expectations are low,” he said, turning to place a soft kiss on her lips. He pulled away immediately and stood up. “Good night.”
She wanted him to stay, to pick up where they’d left off earlier, but she knew that wasn’t the best idea. But the kiss held promise, just like their new relationship, and that was enough for her. “Good night,” she said as he walked out of the room and then quietly pulled the door shut behind him.
Unfortunately, even as she switched off the lamp, she knew it was a lost cause. Sleep was no longer an option. She was as wired as if she’d chugged an entire pot of coffee. She’d gone to bed crying because she was certain she’d ruined everything. Now she had a world of new possibilities ahead of her. Her mind was spinning from their conversation, her thoughts bouncing around in her head. Cynthia lay there in the dark for nearly an hour, praying she would drift off to sleep, but it was no use.
She didn’t have to get up early in the morning; she had nowhere to go, so she decided to put her energy to better use. Slipping quietly out of the bedroom and down the hallway to her workroom, she decided to do some sketching. She wouldn’t run the sewing machine because the noise would wake up Will, but she could do everything else.
Her plan to make her own dress for her mother’s party loomed heavy on her mind. It was an ambitious project to say the least, and she needed to start on it as soon as possible. Any design worthy of the event would be infinitely more complicated to construct than the dress she’d already made. It also needed to be well designed and perfectly suited to her style aesthetic. If it was going to be in newspapers, it needed to be the evening look she would use to close her collection on the runway. The wow piece that everyone could look at and say, “That’s the latest Cynthia Dempsey design.”
If that wasn’t enough, she now had an added layer of pressure. She wanted to look good for Will, too. When she stepped out in this gown with her hair and makeup done, she wanted him to curse. She wanted him to threaten to rip it off her body and delay their arrival at the party—if they arrived at all—even though she was the guest of honor. To be honest, she wanted him to be as miserable with desire all night as she would undoubtedly be.
Will was a strikingly handsome man. Not pretty, like so many of the models in the magazines, but everything a man should be. Hard. Sophisticated. Confident. She’d seen him in everything from khakis to a suit, but she could only imagine how delicious he would look in his tuxedo. He had the broad shoulders and narrow waist that the jacket would cling to. His high, firm rear and solid thighs would be on display in his meticulously tailored suit pants. All he’d have to do is flash her one of his charming smiles and she’d be a puddle on the floor. Her best defense was a good offense, and she was going to make sure her new dress blew his mind.
Picking up her sketchbook, she flipped through pages to see if any of the designs sparked her imagination. So far, she’d done a lot of casual wear and separates with a retro feel and modern styling. One of the sketches for a daytime dress caught her attention, and she knew that that was the piece she needed to use to transition the style into an elegant, formal look. The dress was fitted with a pencil-skirt silhouette and a sweetheart neckline that appeared to be like a corset atop a white dress shirt. It was a smart daytime look for the office.
Flipping to a blank page, she pulled out her colored pencils and started working on a new design. Like the daywear, this dress had a fitted silhouette, although instead of the skirt falling at the knee with a ruffled kick pleat, the gown would take it a step further by blooming into a full mermaid skirt. She echoed the neckline with a strapless sweetheart top that plunged deep in the center.
Losing herself in the sketch for an unknown amount of time, she added special details and penciled in the texture she hoped the fabric and beading she chose would provide.
Rubbing her eyes, she sat back from the picture and admired it with pride. Making this gown in time for her mother’s party would be a challenge, but she could do it. The structure was actually easier to construct than sportswear. There was just one last decision to make—the color.
The theme of her collection had been a lot of black and white with pops of color. The dress would be stunning in black, but would it stand out enough? By the same token, she dismissed the bright pinks and teals other pieces had. That would be too much. Her gaze drifted over the pile of fabrics on the makeshift worktable that used to be a red sofa. It landed on a color she hadn’t used yet, but that could easily be worked in. It was sure to be a stunner. She picked up the matching pencil off the table and started shading the dress, a smile curving her lips as she worked and brought the sketch to life. It was perfect.
Emerald green, just like her eyes.
* * *
Will found himself in the Flower District the next day after work. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told Cynthia he was a little rusty where dating was concerned. He’d dated in high school and the first few years of college, but once he and Cynthia got together during their junior year, that was it. College girls hadn’t required much wooing, and Cynthia had never been one for silly things like flowers and chocolates in the past. She wanted ice. He wouldn’t have bought her an engagement ring guaranteed to get her mugged
