Chapter 40
Grace
May
“Thank you so much! I love it, Morgan,” I shout compliment after compliment as the makeup artist waves goodbye. “I feel so fancy. You’re very skilled at your job! You should win a major award for this!”
“You are too sweet, Grace!” She giggles as she walks out the front door of Danny’s Brooklyn home.
I catch my reflection in the hallway mirror.
My eyes look bigger than normal, framed with brown mascara and a softened wing of smudged, dark brown eyeliner.
Morgan put a shimmery opal gel shadow on my lids, and I have a slight glow from a pearlescent highlighter on my cheekbones.
My curls, swept up in a half ponytail, look shinier with some hair spray to tame the frizz.
As I apply a coat of clear lip gloss, I feel absolutely perfect.
I meander into the kitchen and my mouth waters at the spread Danny had delivered this morning. It smells amazing in here, like a bakery. My dirty chai is as delicious as the donuts he ordered.
I’m thinking about taking just one more bite of a glazed twist when the doorbell rings. I rush for it, knowing who awaits me on the other side.
“Tessa!”
“G! Oh my God!”
I go in hard for a hug before she stops me. “Makeup, hair!”
“Thanks for the reminder. I’m not used to all of this.” I pull back, gesturing to my face.
“After a few years in the fashion industry, it’s all I’m used to,” she replies with a genuine smile.
Tessa stands tall and regal, looking statuesque.
Her thick, black hair is waved into an Old Hollywood style.
The golden shadow on her eyelids highlights her dark features, and big gold hoops decorate her ears.
Her deep red, trumpet-style dress fits her like a glove, and her skin glows in a way where I can’t tell if it’s just her beauty or shimmer.
“Wow. You look gorgeous, Tess. Did you design that dress?”
She flushes. “Um, yeah. This is one of mine.”
“It’s breathtaking. Your talent is unbelievable.”
“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” she says fondly. “Just wait until you see your dress, it’s my favorite piece I’ve designed so far.”
I squeal. “I can’t wait! Should we try it on now?”
“Yeah, we have to leave for the gala in about thirty minutes. Daniel is giving an opening speech, and he’ll murder me if we miss it.” She laughs. “He’s been practicing for days.”
“I definitely don’t want to miss it. I asked him if I could listen to him practice, and he all but hung up on me, acting like it’s classified information. Who am I going to tell? I’m not even connected in the sports world.”
Tessa looks at me with questioning eyes before her lips turn up in a smile. “Um, yeah, he takes anything to do with his…sports foundation super seriously.”
“Do you ever help with the foundation?”
“He’s kind of a control freak, so not really. But the creative director I work for donated couture dresses to auction off, so I brought them with me.”
“That’s so nice! I bet they go for a hefty price.”
She brushes a stray eyelash off my nose. “Yep. He’s a Vogue darling. They definitely sell.”
Tessa hands me the black garment bag she’s holding. “Here’s your dress. I brought my sewing kit if needed, though I’m not great at alterations. I really hope you like it. I smiled the whole way through designing this one.”
I hold the garment bag lightly, not wanting to wrinkle the gown. “I’ve always loved your designs.”
Tessa rolls her eyes and scoffs. “I’m sure the garbage bag dress I made you in the fourth grade was a real highlight.”
“Hey! Don’t talk about my first Tessa Couture gown like that. Grocery Chic was super in that year.”
We both burst out laughing.
“I think my mom still has a picture of you wearing that somewhere.”
“Good, I hope Janie keeps it for posterity. When you blow up and a streaming service makes a documentary about you, we can point to it as an early design.”
Tessa’s smile holds steady, but her eyes begin to mist over.
“You haven’t changed a bit. I’m…I’m so happy that you and my brother are friends again.
” Shaking her head, she blows out a frustrated breath.
“Ugh! I need to pull myself together, or the glam will be ruined. It took me hours to get ready.”
“Tessa,” I breathe, “I wanted to say…it was incredibly hard to lose contact with you over all of these years. It was immature of me, but any reminders of him—including you—left me in agony. I’m sorry. I never stopped thinking about you.” I reach out and hold her hand in lieu of a hug.
She laces her fingers through mine. “Same. I’ve always loved you like a sister. I hope you know that, G.”
I let go of her hand and bring mine back to the bottom of the garment bag, holding it up off the floor. “Okay, I’m going to go try this life-changing dress on.”
She waves her hand, brushing me off. “Oh, stop. Let’s see if you even like it first.”
I skip off to the bathroom down the hallway. I unzip the garment bag and my breath catches in my throat. It’s a gorgeous floor-length periwinkle gown made entirely of satin.
I carefully step into the dress and pull up the hidden zipper on the back of the corset top.
The delicate spaghetti straps slide easily over my shoulders and frame the elegant sweetheart neckline.
Gently swaying my hips, I watch as the gown flows seamlessly to the floor in a softened mermaid-style.
The design almost looks like a cascade of water, angelic and fresh. It fits perfectly.
When I walk back into the kitchen, Tessa is looking out the window. I give the donuts a longing stare before clearing my throat to announce my presence.
She turns around and gives a small gasp. “Not to brag, but this might just be my Magnum Opus. You’re stunning. I have to take a picture for Mom.”
Tessa grabs her phone from her purse, and I smile for at least five minutes while she takes multiple pictures from different angles for Janie, who is home sick with the flu.
“I knew it would be perfect because you designed it, but Tessa…it’s on another level. This is art. Hang it in the Louvre.”
She flushes. “Thanks, G.”
“I mean, how did you even pick this color? It goes so well with my—”
“Eyes,” Tessa interjects with a grin. “My brother picked the color.”
It’s my turn to blush. “Oh. Well, that’s…”
“Romantic, right? It’s kind of gross, as his sister, but definitely romantic. He is so gone for you.”
My throat constricts. My heart races. A wonderful, heavy, warm fog blankets my mind.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “The feeling’s mutual.”
And the feeling is mutual. It always has been. It hasn’t taken me a long time to realize it; it’s taken me a long time to believe it.
Tess nods, giving me a knowing look. “When he came with me to the fabric store a few weeks ago, he spent, like, two hours trying to find the perfect color to complement your eyes and—”
“He went to a fabric store?”
“Yeah,” she replies shyly.
“Wow.” I hum, trying to tame my emotions for this man before I ruin my makeup.
“Anyway, he said he was specifically looking for a bluish purple tone, and this was the closest match.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
Tessa glances at her phone. “Well, whatever you want to say, you can tell him at the gala. The car should be here now.”
“I’ll grab my clutch. And thank you so much, again. I can’t believe how perfect it is, and the fact that you designed it makes it even better.”
“You’re welcome. It was fun designing it for you.”
I slip on strappy nude heels and get in the car, which turns out to be a limo, because of course Danny sent a limo.
After a surprisingly fast car ride, we pull up outside the event.
A flurry of butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach.
It’s more excitement than nerves, because I’m itching to see Danny.
I’m ready to wrap my arms around him and tell him that I’m in love with him.
I still can’t believe that he went through so much effort, on top of being busy with football meetings and gala planning, to shop with Tessa for my dress.
I’m walking on air as we carefully wiggle out of the limo.
Glamorous gala-goers exit their private cars and walk the green carpet.
I expected to feel out of place at an event like this, but tonight, my confidence is at an all-time high as we head toward the Step-and-Repeat for pictures.
I pose next to Tessa until we reach the large front door to the event.
Instead of knobs, the front door has two golden bee-shaped handles to grab. I smile up at the sky at the reminder of Mae. She would’ve loved these, I think to myself as the attendants open the doors for us.
When I walk into the event space, I drop my clutch in shock. As if she prepared for my whole-body reaction, Tessa bends down to pick it up and pats my hand a few times.
“What? I thought… what is this?”
Tessa gives me a reassuring look. “Like I said, he’s far gone for you.”
“Danny did this? When did he do this?”
She pauses. “He started working on the charity about five years ago.”
“And it’s…”
She gives me a small smile. “I think you know what it is.”
I stare at the big sign written in golden calligraphy hanging above us: The Honeybee Charitable Foundation.
My gaze lingers for a few moments, waiting for the words to make sense.
To our right, there’s a giant vinyl poster with Danny and two teammates on it, wearing shirts that feature the charity’s logo: the letters HCF forming a hive.
There are bees everywhere—golden bee tablecloths, arching indoor trees decorated with frosted glass hives and twinkle lights, and floor-to-ceiling curtains embroidered with miniscule bees.
Little bees swirling around the hives on clear wire.
A lounge area resembling a forest, with couches that look like logs and an electric campfire.