Emma
“Idon’t understand why I need a new wardrobe,” I grumbled as Marietta scoffed at a fire-engine red dress with a plunging neckline. “You realize these are supposed to be for work events, right?”
Marietta kept ignoring me, biting her lip as she went through the dozen choices the salesperson had brought over. She dismissed me with a wave, fluffing a ruffled blue dress before taking it off the rack and laying it over one arm.
“I have plenty of dresses at home. This is ridiculous.” I stomped and clenched my fists, hoping my best friend would let this silly notion go. What was the point of new dresses? It wasn’t like the headmaster would offer me the job based on my outfit.
Of course not. Just based on your ability to maintain a relationship.
I huffed, letting my irritation bleed to the surface as Marietta sighed, the noise audible above the dulcet tones that played in the background. Even Barry Manilow couldn’t wipe the scowl off my face.
“Stop acting childish and enjoy the attention. You have a banging body, and you need to dress the part. All your cardigans and slacks need a serious upgrade.”
“There is nothing wrong with my clothes. It’s not like I could be on my feet all day wearing wrap dresses and four-inch heels. And what are you talking about? Dress the part of what, exactly?” I asked, not ready to give up on my tantrum.
“Part sexy librarian. Part competent coworker. And most of all, part bombshell.”
“You are strongly overestimating me,” I said, running my fingers over the fabric of a chic velvet dress. Marietta batted my hand away as the salesperson chuckled and shook her head, mentioning champagne as she left. I wasn’t opposed to having a glass to make this entire situation more bearable, and from the glint in Marietta’s eyes, she felt the same.
“I’m not above getting you buzzed on a random Thursday afternoon until we have at least three new dresses. Maybe heels and a lingerie set as well.”
“Three?” I hissed, my voice rising high enough for an older lady thumbing through the pantsuits to glare at us.
“Cut it out, or I’ll make it five. Now, what’s on the agenda tonight?”
I lifted a beautiful green, floor-length dress from its hanger and ran my hand over the A-line design. Delicate sequins draped across the v-cut neckline and the waist, coming to a stop at the dramatic slit that began mid-thigh.
“Oh, yes, definitely that one,” Marietta said, grabbing it from my hands and shooing me into a fitting room. I sighed, removing my clothes, and slipping my fingers over the fabric, refusing to acknowledge the price tag.
“There’s a fundraiser tonight for the lacrosse team at the country club, so cocktail casual.”
“Okay. This could work,” she said before draping an obscene amount of tulle over the door. Shimmering silver stars were woven into the sheer purple dress, and I hummed, running my fingers over the delicate material.
Holding the floor-length, green satin number to my chest, I pulled the high-neck, open-back purple dress over the door.
“Thanks. Next week is a black-tie event for the drama club, followed by a silent auction and dinner. I can’t remember what that one is for, honestly. By the end of the week, everything blends together, and my smile is frozen to my face.”
Marietta chuckled as I struggled to zip up the formal dress, finally opening the door and turning around so she could help. A low whistle escaped her lips as I stepped onto a low platform in front of three mirrors, highlighting every angle.
“Wow. That green with your hair.”
I followed her gaze, staring at my reflection. The slit made my legs look longer, and the pattern of the sequins slimmed my waist. This was the kind of dress I was meant to wear with someone whose eyes would go wide and whose breath would hitch as I entered the room. Someone who would walk up behind me while I applied a layer of lip-gloss, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder and whispering how beautiful I looked before nibbling on the shell of my ear.
This wasn’t a dress. It was an experience.
An experience I didn’t have to share with anyone.
“Emma?”
I lifted my hand from my stomach, not realizing my fingers were pressed to the silky fabric while my mind ran in circles around nothing.
“What’s going on?” Marietta asked as the salesperson waltzed back with two glasses of champagne. She opened her mouth, but the harsh look of my best friend held her in place before passing the glasses over and turning back toward the stockroom.
“I—This dress—”
Words formed, then disappeared when my mouth opened, causing Marietta to put the glasses on the nearest table and envelop me in her arms. Her five-foot-eight frame towered over my shorter one, and I took comfort in how my head rested on her shoulder as she stroked my back.
“Shh, love. Tell me why there are tears before this lovely dress is stained.”
“There’s no reason to buy this dress when no one but coworkers and potential investors will see me in it.” When those words left my lips, a calm dread invaded my chest. A consuming feeling of emptiness filled the cracks and gaps as if they were waiting for someone who hadn’t bothered to show up.
Perhaps it was not someone—but something.
Some innate otherness you could only get from finding the person you were meant to be with.
No. No. No.
I chanted the words like a pathetic mantra before pulling away from Marietta. She let me go but grasped my arms then rested her hands on my shoulders.
“I think your string of not-great dates—”
“Pathetically abysmal.”
“Fine. Pathetically abysmal dates have crushed your self-esteem, and that, along with the headmaster’s archaic antics—”
“Utter nonsense.”
“Stop interrupting me,” she said, squeezing my shoulders then letting go and crossing her arms. “Now. I honestly think the best thing for you to do is take a break from the apps. This isn’t healthy, and I refuse to continue to be a sounding board for all the things those assholes found wrong with you.”
“But,” I whispered, needing her to know how important this job was for me. How important it was to prove to myself—and my father—that I could achieve this regardless of his involvement.
“But nothing,” she answered, shaking her head and pushing me around so I was staring at my reflection again. “No more new dates. Keep the ones you have, and if Mr. Right is still being an elusive dickface, ask Rose’s brother, Miller, or someone else you already know to be your stand-in man candy and be done with it.”
My breath stuttered, and my hand rubbed the smooth skin between my neck and breasts. Miller? Surely, she wasn’t serious? In what world would he want something more than what we had?
“There’s no one I could ask to do me that kind of favor.”
“You underestimate what a catch you are.”
“Come on—”
“Cut it out,” she said, huffing and putting a hand on her hip. “This is day one of getting yourself back on track for that promotion. Fuck anyone who stands in your way or makes you think it’s not deserved. Now, we’re putting this green number firmly in the yes column. Try on that purple one next before I finish all the champagne.”
I nodded, still not trusting my voice, as I stepped back into the dressing room. Eyeing the purple tulle, I unzipped the green dress and gently returned it to the hanger.
Four new dresses hung in my closet, with lingerie to match and two pairs of heels. The purple tulle cocktail dress and the green sequined one were the clear frontrunners, along with a violet, one-shoulder, floor-length, chiffon lace evening dress and a sleeveless cowl neck black dress. I was on the fence about that one, but Marietta talked me into it. Spaghetti straps led to a cross-back design and a lace-up back while the mermaid silhouette completed the look, with a high side slit and a lower back, the ruched details that made my curvy waist look stunning.
Minerva was not impressed that the additional clothing cramped the space in the far-left corner of the closet that she called hers. She glared from her spot on the edge of my footboard like she didn’t have at least two cat beds in every room of this damnable apartment. I couldn’t be bothered with her dramatics tonight, scratching her head before I moved the new wardrobe choices and grabbed a modest, pinstriped skirt and blue blouse.
The fundraiser wasn’t set to begin until the first round of golfers finished their eighteen holes and the awards were presented. My phone beeped, rousing Minerva from her evening bath. The chime made my eye twitch, knowing it was from the app. That app. Responsible for so much of my anguish. I refused to give it any more of my thoughts tonight, stepping into the shower to forget the day and put on my game face for tonight.
Miller:Want me to pick you up?
Emma:Hey, you. Come again?
Miller:I could, but I’d rather you be here to lend me a hand.
Emma:*GIF of eyeroll*
Emma:Did I forget plans again? Why are you picking me up? I have a fundraiser tonight.
Miller:What? I thought Mom invited you to dinner.
Emma:Oh, that’s right. She did, but I texted her earlier. She understood about work.
Miller:Okay.
Emma:I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. Was this dinner special?
Miller:No. Yes. No. Just some news about the showroom. It’s fine. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be there.
Emma:Alrighty. Chat later.
“I’m surprised you’re here alone tonight, Miss James. I was hoping to introduce the board to your beau,” Mr. Thomas said before finishing his martini. He fished an olive from the bottom of the glass and popped it in his mouth, arching an eyebrow like I’d been caught making out in a broom cupboard. “The headmaster has such high hopes for you. I’d hate to disappoint him.”
I slipped my phone back into my clutch, guilt coursing through my veins as I tried to focus on the conversation I’d been dragged into. How had I forgotten to tell Miller I had to bail? I’d rather be with him and his family than deal with this nonsense, but when my father called earlier demanding my presence for dinner next week, and he not so subtly reminded me that I wouldn’t have this job without his help, I knew I had to finish this stupid game.
An uncomfortable pain twisted into my side, like a stitch you got after running too fast. This wasn’t the first time I’d bailed on our plans—and it probably wouldn’t be the last. It was even more reason for me to hurry and find a suitable guy. Miller deserved someone who could fully commit to him—not a girl who had to jump through hoops to get a promotion while wearing Spanx and eating subpar appetizers.
“Oh. He had to work late at the office,” I answered, glancing at his pink plaid pants before sighing and taking another mini hotdog from a passing server. Obviously, not inviting someone to this wretched event backfired spectacularly as he arched a brow, waiting for information I didn’t have to give.
“Dean, stop harassing this young lady and find our table.”
I followed the voice, smiling at his wife, Christine, who threaded her arm with mine, tugging me away. He winked, letting his eyes trail down my body before smirking and turning toward the bar. “Don’t mind my lush of a husband,” she said, shaking her head and adjusting the large sapphire pendant around her neck. “He likes to feel important by finding out useless information and regurgitating it to people more influential.”
I snorted into my white wine, covering the noise with a cough as she shook her head and patted me on the back.
“What? It’s true, and you know it. The entire admission board is filled with old fuddy-duddies with too much time and money on their hands.”
I laughed along with her as we walked toward the opposite end of the room, where several older ladies stood in a semi-circle, drinking from tumblers.
“Christine. There you are, and with a friend. Who’s the new blood?” a lady with silver hair asked, adjusting the large pearl ring on her finger before sipping the amber liquid in her glass.
Christine lifted two fingers in greeting, waving them at the group before putting her hand on my back and pushing me forward.
“Ladies. This is Emma James. She’s a probationary employee at the academy, but we’re hoping to lure her into a full-time position soon. She graduated with a master’s degree from the University of South Carolina and has a double minor in education and psychology. Emma, this is Daliah, Elizabeth, and Pepper.”
My eyes widened, listening to Christine—I had no idea she knew so much about me—it was like she was reading straight from my employee file. I half expected her to list my hobbies and the last five places I’d volunteered. Perhaps she knew the most recent color of wool I’d bought from Hobby Lobby, hoping my skills had progressed enough to knit newborn hats for the local hospital.
“Oh, yes. Erwin mentioned your name when we approved Mrs. Dawlish’s retirement request. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Daliah said, finishing her glass and holding her hand for me to shake. I swallowed, smiling, as I took her hand, holding back my urge to curtsey. “John said your name was on the list of candidates for the upcoming position.”
“Yes,” I answered, sipping my wine to gather my thoughts. “I’m honored to be considered.”
“Hmm. I’m sure,” Pepper said, snapping her fingers at a nearby waiter, who hurried closer to refresh her drink. “What conditions did the headmaster require of you, Miss James?”
“Conditions?” I parroted, feigning ignorance and tilting my head to let my eyes drift between the ladies.
“Oh, yes. That man loves his little power plays. I remember when Coach Riley was on probation, he had to keep his face cleanly shaven for ninety days and maintain an active gym membership to set a good example for the students.”
The ladies nodded as my eyes widened, equal parts surprised and annoyed.
“And when the media specialist was onboarded, she was required to take part in the school’s production of Guys and Dolls.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. Luckily, no one will be subjected to my less-than-pleasant singing voice, but he made it very clear that he’d need to meet my significant other.”
“That man,” Elizabeth scoffed, passing her empty drink to a nearby server. “If he weren’t so good at his job, the board would stop this nonsense.”
“Hmm,” I mumbled, knowing there was a fine line between gossiping and saying something detrimental that could get back to the wrong person and sabotage me. “I’m glad his idiosyncrasies are not limited to just me.”
Christine giggled, her laughter sounding like crystals tinkling on a chandelier. The other ladies followed suit, and I joined in, glad to have a reason to contribute to the conversation without digging myself into a hole. I couldn’t help but feel optimistic that Christine sought me out. Perhaps all the hoops I had to jump through, combined with the shitty dates, would be worth it.
“Exactly. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, Miss James. It’s all a game to him, and the board allows him to think he controls the king.” Delilah leaned closer, resting her hand on my arm and winking as if the entire group hadn’t taken a collective step forward to hear what she had to say. “He may be the king, but these ladies are the real chess masters, controlling the pieces how they see fit.”
My eyes widened and then drifted between the ladies. Their eyes were kind, but the smiles were predatory—as if they were waiting for the faintest trace of blood before devouring their prey.
“I suppose it’s not unreasonable that the headmaster wants to ensure his staff is well-rounded. I figured that meant he was interested in where I volunteered instead of who I dated.” I shrugged, setting my drink down and picking at a rogue cuticle. “I suppose getting the dirt on my love life is more exciting than listening to the number of sea turtle nests I helped relocate last season.” I cupped my hand around my mouth, leaning close and winking at the group. “The number is fourteen, by the way.”
They laughed along with me, and I let myself dream that instead of trying to impress the academy with witty words and guys who didn’t exist, I’d be sitting at the faculty table discussing policy changes while a faceless guy approached the table slowly with a Ketel One and grapefruit held between his long fingers.
Perhaps he’d ask the bartender to add a salted rim to the glass and lean forward as he placed it in front of me, brushing my hair aside and whispering that my eyes were to stay on him whenever my tongue tasted the salt.
“I know that look, Miss James,” Pepper said with a salacious grin.
Does anyone use first names around here?
“Young love,” Christine added, nudging my shoulder.
Nope. Just fantasizing about long fingers and hazy looks.
“Do share with the class why you suddenly looked lost in the sauce,” Delilah prompted, her look fixed on me.
Oh, no.
“Don’t be shy, deary. What’s your favorite thing about him?”
“Um. Well—” I started, drawing my bottom lip between my teeth and running through a list of subpar answers.
Hair? Too cliche.
Smile? Too cheesy.
Bulge? Too pornographic.
“He was born and raised here in Mount Pleasant, so he’s never in a rush—always arriving exactly when he means to. He takes his time and has this calm, even way of speaking. Not quite a Southern drawl, but more like he enjoys tasting each word in this gravelly, deep voice that makes my knees quake and my heart flutter.”
I rested my hand to my chest, focusing on the tips of my heels. “It’s a hundred little things that I love. The way he remembers to order extra green curry for me, even though he hates it, or how he always keeps a spare sweatshirt in his car because he knows I’m always cold. He always lets me shower first because I prefer the temperature to be somewhere around magma. It’d be impossible to pick one thing when so many come to mind.”
“Wow. That reminds me of my late husband, Walter,” Pepper said, pressing her hand to one flushed cheek. “I can see how in love you are. It’s written all over your face. Come on, ladies. Time to refresh our drinks.”
I nodded, turning to follow them toward the bar, utterly terrified. Terrified because I hadn’t been describing some random stranger.
I’d been describing Miller.