15. Sloane
15
SLOANE
I pulled the door closed behind me at eight thirty the next morning, garment bag draped over one shoulder, feeling confident that today was the day. Two steps down the brownstone’s front stairs, I looked up and nearly lost my balance. “What…”
Wilder leaned against a car, a to-go coffee cup in each hand, smiling. “Morning.” He nodded. “I thought you could use a wingman, someone to help you get the job done on the third try.”
“But I thought you had a flight out early this morning.”
“I did. Made it a little later.”
There were very few times I’d been rendered speechless. Hell, even when Josh broke my heart at the altar, I’d found words—most of them were curses, but I’d had words. Now, though, I could only stand and stare.
Wilder pushed off the car, set one coffee on the roof, and walked over to me. He extended the cup in his hand and reached for the garment bag. “Trade?”
I nodded, my jaw still slack, and didn’t move.
Wilder took the weight of the bag and tucked the coffee cup into my hand. Somehow I put one foot in front of the other and followed him to the car. After he’d opened the passenger door for me, he laid the dress out in the backseat and jogged around to the driver’s side.
I blinked at him. “I cannot believe you changed your flight to come with me to sell my wedding dress.”
He shrugged. “I figured Lucas could use some sleep. He was up chewing my ear off about Olivia for an hour once we got back to the hotel.”
I smiled. “Oh God. Olivia did the same. I think we might have a problem.”
Wilder turned the key to start the car. “Yeah, if my ball-busting little brother gets a Carrick for a girlfriend before I do, I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”
A loud chirp sounded from inside my purse.
“Is that your phone?” Wilder asked.
“No.” I rummaged through my purse for my cell. “It’s an alarm for my insulin pump.”
“You okay?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. It usually is.” I opened the pump app. My supposed blood-sugar reading flashed on the screen. If it was right, it would be a problem. But sometimes the reader just needed a reset. To be on the safe side, though, I needed to go back upstairs. “Can you just give me two minutes? I’m going to run back inside and double-check that this is a bad reading with an old-school finger prick.”
“Should I come?”
“No. I’m fine. I’ll just be two minutes, really.”
I huffed it up to my apartment, did a quick stick of my finger, and inserted the slip into the glucose monitor. Sure enough, my blood sugar was fine. I needed to talk to the doctor about the increase in alarms at my next appointment.
Back downstairs, I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Everything okay?” Wilder asked.
“Perfect. The machine just does that once in a while.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “You ready to get rid of that dress?”
I took a deep breath. “I am. And this was really so sweet of you, Wilder.”
He put the car in drive, but kept his foot on the brake, looking over at me. “Told you, Cupcake. Not sweet, just want to spend time with you.” He winked. “Plus, the sooner you put old dreams to bed, the better my chances of getting you to go out with me.”
I didn’t buy for a minute that he didn’t have a sweet side, but I also didn’t call him out on it. The bridal shop was only a half mile away, so ten minutes later, we parked. I took a deep breath as he opened the door for me to walk through first.
“Hi,” I said to the woman at the counter. “I have an appointment to sell a wedding dress.”
“It is used?”
I frowned. “Yes, but I only wore it for an hour because… Well, I only wore it for an hour.”
She pointed to a hook on the top of a tall silver pole next to the register. “You can hang it there. It’ll take me a while to inspect the dress and research the value. If you want, take a look around a bit. There’s a section of cocktail dresses in the back. Most people check that out, since we only give store credit.”
“You only give store credit?”
The woman nodded.
“Is that a new policy?”
“Been that way as long as I’ve worked here. So at least two years.”
I sighed. How the heck did I not know that? “Maybe I should…”
Wilder looked at me. “Are there other places that give cash?”
I shrugged. “I think so?” I chewed on my fingernail, debating.
Wilder put his hand on my shoulder and gently guided me to turn. Once we were facing each other, he put his other hand on my other shoulder, sort of like a coach talking to his player.
“You have ten more weddings you can buy dresses for.”
He was right, but…
Wilder must have read the hesitation on my face. He leaned in and spoke more softly. “Do you want to keep that chapter of your life open?”
I shook my head.
“Then sell the dress, Sloane.”
I took a deep breath and nodded, looking over at the sales clerk. “I’ll take the store credit.” It felt good to say. I smiled at Wilder. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Now come on…” He slung an arm around my shoulder and walked us toward the back of the store. “You’re going to try on sexy shit for me as a reward for being such a good friend.”
My smile grew. I could handle that.
Ten minutes later, I exited the dressing room wearing a dress so low-cut, I’d checked twice to see if it was on backward before coming out.
Wilder’s face slid into a dirty grin as he stared at my very on-display cleavage. “Now that’s a keeper.”
I chuckled. “I’m practically naked.”
“I know. It’s freaking great .”
I’d turned to go back into the dressing room when a display caught my eye—a wedding dress that reminded me of the one JFK Jr.’s wife, Carolyn, wore on her wedding day.
Wilder followed my line of sight. “You see something you like?”
“That dress is amazing.”
He pointed. “The gown? Does it look like the one you’re selling?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing like mine. But I think it might be the first dress since mine to give me goose bumps.” I lifted my arm to show him.
Wilder shrugged. “Why don’t you try it on?”
I snort-laughed. “We came here to get rid of a wedding dress. I’m not doing that again, buying a dress for a fantasy that doesn’t exist.”
The salesclerk made her way back to the fitting room. She held out a piece of paper. “This is the best I can do on the gown. It’s a beautiful dress, but it’s pretty old.”
I swallowed hard looking at the number written on the sheet. It was maybe 10 percent of what I’d paid years ago.
Wilder caught my eye. “It’s not about the money, right?”
I sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.” I looked to the salesclerk. “It’s a deal. Thank you.”
A little while later, we pulled up to the brownstone. I had two new cocktail dresses and still a small store credit left.
“What time is your flight?” I asked.
Wilder glanced at his watch. “Three and a half hours from now. I have to pick up Lucas and get this car back to my dad’s garage before we head to the airport. So I do have to get going, though I wish I didn’t.”
“I don’t know how to thank you for today. I feel lighter already. Freer.”
Wilder winked. “That might’ve been my hope all along. See you in London—maybe a few days early?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I think you might.”