Chapter 10
KENSEY
Isipped my soda and stared at nothing but white jigsaw pieces. The puzzle served as an effective distraction. I was waiting for the delivery of the dress Annika had been working on for me. I was nervous for some reason. My parents were doing a terrible job of distracting me.
And then the doorbell rings.
“Got it!” Dad said from the living room.
All three of us rushed to the door. A courier in a black uniform stood on the front step holding a large garment bag and a sleek white box. Both had the Blackwell Couture logo embossed on them in gold.
“Kensey Blake?”
“That’s me.”
“Special delivery.” He handed them over and quickly walked away.
Mom clapped her good hand against her thigh. “Well, bring it inside. Don’t just stand there. Let’s see it!
I hung the garment bag on the hall closet door and unzipped it slowly. The fabric caught the light the moment it was exposed, that same deep, blue color Annika had decided was perfect. This was not a dress you found on a rack. This was a dress someone spent some time thinking about.
“Oh, Kensey.” My mother had one hand over her heart. “That is stunning.”
“I know.”
“Well, let’s get you dressed,” she said. “Your chariot arrives at four?”
“Yep.”
I carried the dress upstairs with the shoe box tucked under my arm. My mother followed. We did my hair and makeup and then it was time to put it on. I didn’t know how much the dress cost, but I was guessing it was probably five figures at least.
My mother fanned her face with one hand. Tears filled her eyes.
“Mom. Don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything,” she said, which was a lie. She waved her good hand at me. “Turn around.”
I did so.
“It fits you perfectly.”
“Annika is an artist.”
“She truly is.”
I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection.
I wasn’t a thin woman. I had never really minded.
After spending so much time with the models, I had become very aware of my curves.
But seeing the dress on my body, I felt beautiful.
The curves were accentuated. Marilyn Monroe, eat your heart out.
“John!” Mom shouted. “Get up here!”
I heard his footsteps and then he was coming through the door. My dad wasn’t an emotional guy, but when he saw me, he paused. His hand went to his chest.
“Oh, Kens,” he whispered. “You’re so pretty.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I thought you looked beautiful for prom, but my goodness.”
We were not talking about the disaster that was prom.
“That dress is going to sell out once they see it on you,” Mom said.
“Free advertisement,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“That’s a man who pays attention.”
“He’s a good friend.”
“He’s a very good friend who commissioned a custom gown for you.”
“It’s not commissioned. It’s from the collection.
It was already made. He just asked Annika to find something that would work and fit it properly.
” I opened the shoe box. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a pair of heels so beautiful I actually held my breath for a second.
Strappy, delicate, and so sparkly. Annika had thought of everything. “Oh my.”
“Put them on,” Mom said.
I sat on the edge of the chair by my desk and slipped them on. When I stood up and looked in the mirror again, I understood what Cinderella felt like. Not the magic part, not the prince part, just the feeling of looking like a princess.
“You look like a movie star,” my mother said quietly.
“Don’t make me cry. I don’t want raccoon eyes.”
She laughed and patted the bed beside her. “Come sit.”
Dad took that as his cue to leave. It was time for some girl talk.
“Tell me about the party,” she said.
“Mom, I already told you.”
“It’s going to be a great experience for you,” she said. “I’m so happy you get to experience something like this.”
“He’s very generous.”
“You admire him.”
“Of course I do. I always have.”
“You light up when you talk about him.”
“He’s my best friend. I’m allowed to light up.”
“Hmm,” was all she said.
I turned to look at her. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
She smiled serenely. “I was just going to say it’s nice. That you have someone like that.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Me?” Her attempt to sound innocent was not working.
“You’re implying things.”
“I’m not implying anything.”
“He’s never had a serious girlfriend,” I said absently. “As long as I’ve known him, not once. He dates. He just doesn’t stay. Three months, maybe four, and then it’s over and he’s on to the next thing. That’s just who he is. I don’t think he’s interested in a girlfriend.”
“People change,” she said mildly.
“Some people.”
“Why not Drew?”
“Because he’s—” I tried to find the right words. “He’s restless. He always has been. Even when we were kids, he was always onto the next thing. The next trip, the next idea, the next girl. It’s just how he’s wired. It keeps him interesting.”
“Or he just hasn’t found the right person to stay with.” She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“You’re always just saying.”
She smiled at my reflection. “I say things because I observe things. That’s my right as your mother.”
I laughed and walked to the vanity with the jewelry I was borrowing from her. I put on the diamond studs.
“He makes you happy,” she said simply, taking the necklace.
“He does. He’s a good person, Mom. He’s the kind of person who always makes my day better. He’s steady. Underneath all the Blackwell stuff, he’s just Drew. And Drew has always been one of my favorite people on the planet.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s romantic.”
“It doesn’t mean it isn’t.”
I looked at her in the mirror. She looked back at me and then put the matching necklace on.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“Everything worth having is.”
We headed downstairs, and when the doorbell rang, my stomach did a full somersault.
Dad opened the door. Drew stood on the front step in a black suit that fit him the way only something custom-made could. His shirt was a pale blue with a silver tie. His hair was styled. The stubble was there, same as always, but it looked very dignified.
“Mr. Blake.” He shook my father’s hand. “Good to see you, sir.”
“Drew.” My dad clapped him on the shoulder the way he always had, like Drew was his own. “You look sharp.”
“Thank you.” He glanced past my dad and found me, and whatever he’d been about to say next didn’t come out. He just looked at me for a moment. One full, quiet moment where neither of us said anything.
Then he smiled. “Kensey, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Mom stepped forward. “Drew, look at you. So handsome.”
“Thank you,” Drew replied.
“She was so nervous getting ready,” my mother told Drew. “She kept saying she wasn’t nervous. You two make a very handsome couple.”
“Stop,” I hissed.
“She looks beautiful though, doesn’t she?” Mom said, completely ignoring me.
Drew looked at me. “She does.”
I picked up my small clutch from the hall table. “Okay. We’re going now. I love you both. Goodbye.”
When we stepped outside, I froze and looked at him. “A limo?”
“Of course.”
The driver had the back door open and waiting for us. I slid in and Drew followed. Suddenly we were in this small, quiet, blue-lit world.
Mom was standing on the front porch waving like a lunatic.
“I’m sorry about her,” I said.
Drew reached for the champagne chilling in the console between us, poured two glasses, and handed one to me.
“Don’t apologize for your mother. She’s wonderful.”
“She’s a menace.”
He touched his glass to mine. “She loves you.”
I took a sip. The champagne was cold and crisp and I felt the tiny bubbles tickle my nose. “It’s wild how much I feel like a teenager, going to the prom I never got to go to.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Jared Daniels stood you up that night, that prick.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, while you were out having the time of your life with Lucy Lambert.”
Drew snorted a humorless laugh. “Time of my life. She drank so much on the way to the dance that I spent the whole night holding her hair back while she threw up. I did not get back the deposit on the limo. I can tell you that.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That makes me feel slightly better about that painful memory. Sounds like neither one of us had a prom.”
“You know what?” he said and raised his glass. “Tonight’s your prom. How about that?”
I laughed softly. “Sure,” I said. “Okay. Tonight’s my prom.”
“I mean it. You’re in the dress. There’s a limo.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to tell anyone. It’s just for us.”
“I’m a little old for prom,” I said.
“Better late than never.”
I touched my glass to his and took a slow sip. Prom night with Drew was always the dream. And it was all coming true.
The limo pulled up to the club a full hour before guests were expected to arrive.
That had been Drew’s plan from the start—get there early, walk the space, make sure everything was exactly where it needed to be before the first car rolled up.
As much as this felt like a fun night out, we were both technically hosting this event.
The valet opened my door and I stepped out carefully, conscious of the heels. Drew was there before I had to think about it, hand extended. I took it. He helped me out and then held my hand just a beat longer than necessary before letting go.
“Ready?” Drew asked.
“Yep,” I said.
We walked in together. I stopped in the doorway of the main dining room.
The last time I’d stood in this space, it had been filled with bright afternoon light and covered in white linen. This was not that room anymore.
The overhead lighting had been dimmed and the chandeliers I’d barely noticed during the daytime walkthrough were doing serious work now, casting soft halos across the whole space.
The tables had been pushed to the perimeter, and the center of the room had been cleared entirely. A dance floor had been set up.
Flowers were everywhere. Along the far wall, the glass doors stood open to the patio, and beyond them the ocean glittered dark and silver in the distance. The string lights continued outside, running along the railing and down toward the sand.
I stood there and didn’t say anything for a moment. It was beautiful. I had helped plan this and I still hadn’t been able to picture what it would actually look like when it came together.
“It really does feel like a prom,” I said finally.
“Yeah,” he said. “It kind of does.”
The room was empty. The staff hadn’t started circulating yet. The bartenders were setting up at the far end. A few people from the event team were making final adjustments to the flower arrangements and checking the placement of the name cards at the tables along the perimeter.
“Promise me a dance later,” he said. It wasn’t quite a question.
“Yes,” I said.
“Good.”
Then his phone buzzed in his pocket and the moment was over. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and was immediately back in business mode, already moving toward the bar area with the phone at his ear.
I exhaled slowly and looked around the room one more time.
Better late than never.