Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
ROSE
D ad is already here when I walk into the shop. Concern is etched on his face. “You didn’t go home last night.”
“I stopped by my apartment after work for a bit. And the place I’ll be renting is available on the first. It’ll only take me a day or two to move my stuff. So I’ll be out of the apartment by the third.” I tuck my purse away, trying to look calm even though my insides are flip-flopping like a fish on land.
“Your mother said you’d decided to stay.” Dad seems genuinely surprised that I’m moving.
I shake my head. “She sent me lots of texts about why she thought I should stay, but if I can’t have my kitten in the apartment, I’m not staying. I’m twenty-five. It’ll be good for me to get out of your hair.”
“We like having you close, Rose. You aren’t in our hair. But I understand that you want to have a cat.” He unlocks the front door. “Are you still up for overseeing the new shop construction?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be renting not far from there, so it works out great.” I’m not ready to tell my parents where I’ll be living, and even if I was, I don’t know the address. I could drive to the house, but I didn’t take note of the house number or the name of the street.
Dad adds flowers to vases, arranging blooms and greenery. “I’m sad that you’re moving, but I’m glad you plan to continue working in the business.”
“I love flowers, Dad. I have no reason to leave. And if it helps y’all, I’d be open to running the new shop when it opens.”
“I’ll consider that. We will need someone.”
I’m hoping my dad will grow a bit of a spine and push back when my mom decides to use the position at the new shop as leverage for getting me to follow her path.
Our conversation is interrupted when a handful of customers enter, and we’re busy the rest of the day with a steady stream of people wanting arrangements.
Maybe I haven’t completely destroyed the relationship with my parents. Is it too much to hope that Mom will accept that I want something different from her dream for my life?
I call Daphne as I leave work, and as soon as she answers, I spew the thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head all day. “I need a dress for this weekend. Two actually. Are you free for a bit? Will you meet me at my apartment to help me choose? Or maybe I should buy something new. I’m so nervous. What if his friends don’t like me?”
“Hi. It’s good to hear from you. Last I heard you were going to visit Dallas, and then I didn’t hear from you for more than a day. Is your mom still mad about the cat?”
“I haven’t talked to her that much. But I think she’s still irritated. Especially since I announced that I was moving. Did I tell you that part?”
“Yes, you said you could move in starting the first of the month.”
“And I’m staying at Dallas’s until the house is ready.”
Silence makes me wonder if the call dropped.
I glance at the phone. “Daphne?”
“Back the truck up. Moved in with Dallas? When did this go from fake to real? And shouldn’t you slow it down a tad, I mean you’ve known him less than a week.”
“We are not living together. He’s staying with a friend, who, by the way, is a cowboy, but he’s barely twenty-one. I didn’t think you’d be interested. He’s cute though.”
“That’s too young. I’m almost twenty-seven. I’d like someone a tad older than barely drinking age.” She gives a lighthearted huff. “So, let me get this straight. Dallas is staying with a friend so that you can sleep at his house? The man who barely knows you is changing his whole life for you. That seems…” She sighs. “Romantic.”
“It’s not like that. But he met my mom.”
“Ohhh. That explains it. He’s rescuing you. You’re his damsel in distress.”
“Living free in a garage apartment is far from distress.” I don’t want people to think I am in an abusive situation at home. It’s not that. It’s just complicated.
“She stole your cat, Rose. And I’m guessing when you couldn’t find your fuzzy baby, you were in distress. Now, back to the original question. Yes, I’m free. And what if you find a dress for one of the nights and buy a dress for the other? You said it was a wedding?”
“Rehearsal dinner tomorrow night and wedding on Saturday. Did I mention that I was nervous?”
“Yes, but why? It doesn’t matter if they like you. It’s temporary and fake.”
“But his friends don’t know that. And he doesn’t need his friends trying to talk him out of marrying me when he’s just doing me a huge favor. I’d feel bad.”
“I’m putting shoes on and heading that way now.”
“You know, I have a better idea. I’m going to drop you a pin. And we’ll meet there in an hour. I’ll swing by my apartment and grab all the possible dresses, and then we’ll meet at Dallas’s house. Then we don’t have to worry about Mom coming in and giving me her opinion for an hour.”
“Or two. I really don’t like when she does that. So meeting out there is good. Want me to pick up dinner? And are you sure Dallas won’t mind?”
“I’ll check. Dinner would be great. I’ll pay you back. And I hope he doesn’t mind because I want you to meet him.”
“Let me know what he says.” She ends the call.
I tap out a text, then change my mind and dial Dallas’s number.
It rings twice, and I hold my breath, wondering if I’m going to be sent to voicemail.
“Rose, hi. What’s up?” Dallas shushes someone, then addresses me again. “I’m stepping outside the mess hall so I can hear you. The guys can be noisy.”
“I need to decide what to wear to the wedding, and I wanted to see if you’d mind if my friend Daphne came over tonight.”
“Fine by me. I can swing by the barbecue place and?—”
“No. we’ll take care of dinner. But if you’re in the mess hall, does that mean you’ve already eaten?”
“Ava is still cooking. We were having a meeting, but it wrapped up right before you called. I’ll see you soon. And I’m looking forward to meeting your friend.”
“Good, okay. I won’t keep you. I know you’re busy.”
In that same soothing voice he uses when I get wound up about something, he says, “Hey, you can call me anytime. And if I can’t answer right away, I’ll call you back. You aren’t interrupting.”
“You’re only saying that because I’m your fake fiancée.”
“Nah, I’m saying that because I genuinely enjoy talking to you. Fake or not, I’m glad we met.”
“Me too. I’ll see you in a bit.” I end the call, inclined to agree with Daphne that Dallas upending his life to help me is romantic. But I know he doesn’t mean it that way.
When I get to the house, Daphne’s car and Dallas’s truck are already there. And that has me a tad nervous. Will she like him? It’s silly to be worried about that since I’m not actually engaged to the man, but I care.
I gather the dresses out of my back seat and walk to the door, taking care not to drag fabric on the ground. As I get to the door, it swings open.
“Here. I can get those. Where do you want me to put them?” Dallas steps aside and extends his hands.
I carefully drape them over those muscular arms. “If you’ll carry them into the bedroom, I’d be grateful. And I’ll go with you and hang them.” I glance over my shoulder as I start down the hall. “Hi, Daphne!”
Grinning, she fans herself, and I’m relieved that Dallas has his back turned. She’s doing it for my benefit because he’s not her type. Not in the least. But he is mine.
I need to be careful because if I’m not, six months from now when Dallas and I part ways, I’ll be leaving with a broken heart.
This whole charade was meant to save me from pain. Not cause it.
Dallas surveys the dresses as I hang them one by one.
“I may have to buy one, but I thought I’d start with what I already own. You said it wasn’t black tie, right?”
He huffs out a laugh, amusement twinkling in his eye. “I’m not sure I can picture the ranch hands in tuxedos. We clean up okay, but we wear boots with our suits. It won’t be super fancy. You don’t need to buy a dress. Seriously. These are all really pretty.”
“And after we eat, you can try them on for us to see.” Daphne appears in the doorway. “It’ll be fun.”
Dallas hands off the last dress and rubs his jaw. “I’ll get plates out so that we can eat.” Then he hurries out of the room.
“Daphne, I was going to model them for you. Dallas doesn’t want to watch me parade around in different dresses and help me decide.”
She glances out the door and lowers her voice. “First of all, you’re right about one part. He won’t help you decide. He’ll just say they all look good. But you’re wrong if you think he won’t enjoy seeing you model the dresses. He absolutely will. It’ll be good relationship building.”
“It’s fake, Daphne. We don’t have a relationship to build. I’ve explained this.”
“Yes, you do. Y’all are building a friendship. You’ll need it to get through the next few months.” She steps into the hall. “Because I have a feeling that your mom hasn’t given up on controlling your life. Not yet. She’s still got tactics up her sleeve.”
“I hope you’re wrong.” But I’m quite sure that Daphne is one hundred percent correct. And it worries me.
After dinner, I model the dresses. I keep my personal favorites until the end. Daphne has ooh ed and aah ed over every single one, and Dallas has repeated the same line every time I walk out in a different dress. “That one is pretty.”
My friend is probably right that he won’t single out a particular dress, but that doesn’t stop me from hoping.
Wearing the second to last dress, I twirl when I get into the living room. “I was thinking of wearing this one to the rehearsal dinner.”
Daphne claps. “It’s gorgeous. I love it.”
It’s a far cry from the jean shorts and T-shirt that I live in when I’m not at work.
Dallas smiles. “I agree with Daphne. You should wear that to dinner.”
“Okay.” I hurry back down the hall. He finally had a different response, but it was probably because I said something about wearing it, which indicated that it was one of my choices.
So when I show off the last dress, I only say, “This is the last one.”
Dallas just stares. He doesn’t say anything at all.
Daphne glances at him, then at me. “That’s the one for the wedding. One hundred percent. Don’t you think, Dallas?”
He nods. “Yeah. For sure.” He stands. “I need to talk to Colt about something. Y’all make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a bit.” And the man hurries out the door without even picking up his cowboy hat.
The door closes, and my shoulders slump.
Daphne laughs. “Girl, I’m not sure why you are looking like a wounded puppy. He likes the dress. A lot.”
I’m hurt but try not to show it. “He didn’t say a word.”
“He practically ran out of here. That is what’s most telling.”
“He has a ranch to run. Colt is the wrangler. I’m sure they have stuff to talk about.”
“That ‘I need to talk to Colt’ was his version of ‘I need some air.’ And I bet that he’s talking to Colt about your blue dress.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I go back to the bedroom to change back into my normal clothes, and deep inside, I hope Daphne is right. Not about talking to Colt, because I know that’s not what they’re talking about, but about Dallas liking this dress a lot.
The ink blue minidress with the lace overlay looks like a regular dress on my short frame. And it does more to give me a shape than what I normally wear. The push-up bra I’m wearing helps too.
After changing, I flop onto the couch. “Have I mentioned that I’m nervous?”
Daphne counts on her fingers, then shifts to her toes. “So many times that I’m losing count. Don’t overthink it.”
As if that’s even possible.