11. Chapter Eleven
It’s like prom all over again as the elevator dings, and I step out onto the fifth floor of Lubbock’s brand-new Lonestar Royal Hotel.
The air is thick with nostalgia, and there he is—Henry Carter—leaning against a wall and looking every bit as handsome in his tailored suit as he did our senior year in high school.
“Rose, wow.” He flashes a smile that would knock any girl off her feet. “You look… amazing.”
“You clean up pretty nice yourself, Carter.” He’s holding a wrist corsage with white carnations, baby’s breath, and a bright yellow rose with a matching ribbon.
Oh boy… he’s really pulling out all the stops. I think about Jace, then remind myself I’m only a stand-in for someone else. Someone Henry would much rather be spending his evening with. It’s a broken record playing the same song I’ve spent a lifetime trying to forget.
“I, uh, hope this is okay. I didn’t know what color your dress was going to be.”
“You didn’t have to do all this.” I hide my blush as he stretches the elastic and slides it in place around my wrist. I hold it against the beaded applique of my emerald green gown and admire how perfectly the colors complement each other.
“Yeah, well… Neither did you.” He steps forward, offering his arm—a gesture so old-school charming it makes my heart squeeze. “Shall we?”
“Might as well.” I slip my hand through Henry’s arm, trying not to think about how right it feels.
You’re just here as friends, Rose. It’s just like high school.
As we walk through the entrance into the conference hall, there’s a giant banner hung on the back wall that reads: Sugar Plum High - Home of the Heifers: Welcome Class of 1994, and just below it is Larry standing at the punch table taking a long pull from a silver flask.
Henry smiles and shakes his head. “I told you, you’re really saving me tonight, Rose. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Thank me after we survive the herd,” I say, bracing myself for what’s to come. My eyes scan the room, taking in the sea of familiar faces from what feels like a lifetime ago as we navigate through clusters of chatting alumni and find the check-in table.
Henry scribbles on a self-adhesive name badge, sticks it to his coat lapel, and turns to hand me the Sharpie.
“I can’t believe they’re making us wear name tags,” I say, looking up to read the name on Henry’s suit. “Al Beback?”
I look at him unimpressed, and he shrugs with a boyish grin that gets me every time. “What?”
I roll my eyes and take the Sharpie, carefully writing the letters R, O, S, E, and T before pausing. Thinking about walking around all night with his last name stuck to my dress makes me want to hurl, so ‘Rose T’ will have to do. I quickly peel off the backing and secure the nametag to my dress.
“Rose? Henry?” A voice as sharp as her stiletto heels cuts through the air. Nancy Wade, with her clipboard clutched like a lifeline, zeroes in on us. She’s still every bit the student body president as she was in the ’90s, only with more hairspray and less youth. “I didn’t see you or Jace’s name on the RSVP list. Where is your better half tonight?”
Though I should expect nothing less from a woman notorious for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong, her question catches me off guard. I feel heat creep into my cheeks and fumble for a response when Henry steps around me, his confident presence forming a welcome barrier between me and the prying eyes of Sugar Plum’s official town gossip.
“Jace couldn’t make it this time, Nancy. Surely, you understand being married to a city councilman and all. Where is old Beau tonight? Must be working late again.”
The way Henry’s words roll off his tongue so casually makes watching Nancy’s jaw fall to the floor all the sweeter.
“But never mind that,” Henry says, and I all but cringe at each painful word that comes out of his mouth next. “Rose used her expertise to find me a date for tonight, but after a last-minute cancellation, she was nice enough to fill in.”
Okay. This is definitely way too much like high school.
“Hmmm. Rose, helping you get back on the horse? Well, isn’t that sweet!” Nancy’s voice lifts with an edge that suggests she’s already drafting the next edition of town gossip in her head.
“Yep,” I add quickly, eager to redirect the conversation. “Just here for moral support. That’s what old friends are for, right Nancy?”
“Right,” she says, drawing out the word. “And offering to keep Henry company when his real date couldn’t be here, why—you must be tickled pink to hold such an honor twice.“ Nancy plasters a smile on her face, and it’s all I can do to hold myself together. “Well, don’t let me keep you. By all means, go. Enjoy the evening!”
“It’s always a pleasure, Nancy,” Henry says, steering me away from her intrusive glare. He leans in and lowers his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Perfectly fine,” I lie. The knot in my stomach twists even more until it’s the size of a large grapefruit, leaving me wondering if Henry knows how jarred I am right now.
I listen to Nancy’s heels click-clack away behind us, and when the coast is clear, Henry turns with a lighthearted grin that makes every tense fiber in my body melt.
“Care for a dance?” he asks, his hand extended like a peace offering.
I don’t bother trying to suppress the smile that forms on my lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I slip my hand into his, and we weave through a crowded dance floor as arms reach out to greet us with friendly pats on our shoulders.
“Henry, what’s up, brother? Glad you made it.”
“Good to see you, Henry.”
“Rose, are you here alone?”
When we reach the middle of the dance floor, Henry pulls me in, and the voices around us fade until it’s just me and him. His hand finds the small of my back while the other clasps my hand gently, and together, we sway under a giant disco ball to All-4-One’s “I Swear.”
With every step, his touch reassures me, as if he senses my need for something steady amidst the chaos of a collapsing marriage. I wish I could tell him the truth about Jace. It feels wrong to keep such a massive secret from a man I’ve always been able to talk to about anything.
Maybe I’m not ready to burden him with all my marital problems. Or perhaps I’m just not prepared to face the reality of another man I love picking a woman who isn’t me.
I don’t realize how lost in my thoughts I am until Henry pulls away and taps my furrowed brow with his finger. “Better cut that out, or it’s gonna stick. Are you really okay?” His voice is careful but more serious this time.
“Yeah. I’m good.” I answer, but the words catch a little. It’s partly true. I am good, here and now, and in a way I haven’t been in a very long time.
“Good.” He smiles, but it’s a gentle, probing one that says he sees right through my fa?ade.
I swear
By the moon and the stars in the sky
I’ll be there
I swear
Like the shadow that’s by your side
I’ll be there
For better or worse
Till death do us part
I’ll love you with every single beat of my heart
I swear
As the song ends, I wonder what my life would be like if I had the chance to do it all over. Could my heart ever learn to love after so much disappointment?
Just as the music fades, Nancy’s authoritative voice crackles over the microphone. “Alright, folks, I have another very special treat for you all! As you know, we’ll be hosting a live auction throughout the evening, with proceeds going to The Sugar Plum Alumni Scholarship Program.“ A stir of claps and hoots go around as she continues. “Ladies, I hope you brought your pocketbooks because you don’t want to miss this rare chance to win a date with one of Sugar Plum’s most eligible bachelors!”
This was classic Nancy, and I can’t help but laugh at the theatrics of it all as women in the crowd chant with excitement and people crane their necks to see who the lucky bachelor might be.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give a round of applause for Sugar Plum’s very own Henry Carter. Don’t be shy. Come on up here, Henry!” Nancy locks her gaze on Henry, who stands next to me, looking like a deer caught in her high beams.
“Wait, what?” Henry’s voice is laced with a combination of disbelief and distress, but before he can protest, Larry and a few of his other old football buddies cheer him on from the back with hoots and whistles.
“Go on, Henry! Show ’em how it’s done!”
“Do it for the kids, Carter!”
“You’re my boy, Blue!”
Clearly, the rest of the crowd is enjoying the spectacle, but I’m not sure whether I should feel annoyed or entertained.
Henry makes his way to the stage amidst applause with a reluctant sigh and a sheepish grin, and his discomfort is palpable, even from a distance. He was always the one to light up a room with his humor, but now he’s the one squirming under the spotlight, and I can’t help but smile at his predicament.
“Alright, we’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars!” Nancy says.
Immediately glances start going around the room. Then I see her—Maybell Farnsworth, Sugar Plum’s town librarian and one of the few single women left in our class—ready to pounce.
“Seventy-five dollars!” Her hand shoots up like a rocket, and her voice carries over the crowd with eyes fixed on Henry like he’s a giant hunk of raw meat.
Henry looks directly at me with wide eyes, silently pleading for some kind of intervention. At that moment, something inside me shifts. Sure, I’m still a woman trying to figure out her own heartache, but I’m also Rose Taylor—the kind of friend that’s ride or die until the bitter end.
“Eighty dollars!” The sound of my own voice surprises me as much as the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“Ninety-five!” Maybell glances at me with a look of indignation, but there’s no way I’m backing out now.
“One-twenty!” This one makes her scoff, and for a moment, I think she’s going to fold.
“One-fifty!”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars!”
The room suddenly goes quiet.
“Two hundred and fifty dollars going once!” Nancy calls out. As she scans the room, I can feel everyone’s eyes on me while I shoot daggers in the direction of my rival.
The message I’m sending is clear: Back off, Maybell—Henry is mine.
“Going twice!”
Now, Henry and I are both holding our breath.
“Sold to Rose Thatcher for two hundred fifty dollars! Congratulations, Rose!” Nancy points in my direction, and the room bursts into applause.
Henry’s relief is evident. “Thank you,” he mouths to me from the stage, and it’s only then I realize what I’ve done. I just bought a date with Henry Carter. What the heck was I thinking?
When Henry meets me back on the dance floor, Larry is hot on his tail and throws his arms over our shoulders. “Heya, Rose. What do you think about a two fer’ one special.” His voice is hot and reeks of cheap bourbon whiskey.
“Sorry, Larry. This one’s all me.” Henry wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me away just in time for the next song to start.
“Thanks for saving me from Maybell.” His laugh sounds so carefree, but I wonder how much he can still sense my discomfort as I watch the sparkle in his eyes slowly fade away.
“I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” The words sound much harsher than they did in my mind, and I want to take them back immediately. “Sorry, Henry. I didn’t mean that.”
He leans in closer as we sway to the music. “What’s going on Rose? Did I do something that upset you? You know you can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”
I want to believe him, but I can’t. Not here. Not with everyone watching. The weight of not knowing what everyone must be thinking is crippling. “I’m so sorry, Henry. I can’t be here right now. It’s too much.”
“Rose, you don’t have to—“
“It’s fine. I’m just going back to my room. You should stay and have fun with your friends.”
“Yeah, uh… sure. Okay. I’ll come check in on you later. I can bring you some dinner.”
When Henry found out I was coming, he booked the adjoining suite so our rooms would be right next to each other. Ugh, why does he always have to be so… off-limits?
“You know, I’m not real hungry, but thanks anyway. I’m actually pretty tired. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
I feel guilty enough for bailing on him. The last thing I want is for him to be stuck babysitting me all night instead of having fun.
“Rose...” Henry starts again, but I cut him off.
“Thanks for the dance, Carter. And don’t let Larry rope you into doing anything I wouldn’t do.” Before he can utter another word, I flee the dance floor and all the prying eyes.
When I reach the elevator, I slip inside, and the cool metal walls feel like a sanctuary. I press the button for my floor, letting out a deep sigh as the doors slowly close. Tonight was supposed to be simple. A friendly favor turned into an auction win. So why does it all feel so messy all of a sudden?