6. Dress Code
DRESS CODE
CHELSEA
“So? Tell me everything! I assume an eggplant followed by a thumbs-up is emoji for mission accomplished?”
I shove a final pin in my hair, waggling my head to make sure the elegant low side bun I just spent the better part of an hour creating isn’t going to move any time soon.
Leaving my ensuite, I find Shanna sitting on my bed wearing sweatpants, an oversized button-down shirt, a full face of makeup, and a fancy up-do—the pre-game wardrobe of all good event facilitators.
I’m wearing a fluffy robe, because that’s the pre-game wardrobe of event coordinators. And that’s officially all I am now.
Instead of The Ice Gala and Silent Auction being my inaugural event as director of the Wolfpack Community Foundation, the meticulously planned evening is going to play backdrop for my brother’s unofficial coronation.
The official announcement about Andrew’s promotion happens Monday, for maximum media exposure. Not that I’m bitter.
“What was he like? What was his name?”
I unzip the garment bag hanging on the back of my bedroom door, revealing the ice blue dress I chose for tonight’s gala. It seemed prettier in the store. “We decided no names was best.”
Shanna stares at me, agape. “He wouldn’t even tell you his name?”
He would have.
“So let’s keep things simple. What’s your name?”
And I’d been tempted for a moment. To make it more. To get to know him at the bar. Give him my number. Let him ask me out. But that’s what the old me would have done.
Not telling him my name was the moment I decided. The moment I fully realized I was going through with my plan. Gave into the warmth in my belly. Stopped fighting the way my body leaned toward his. The moment I let the flush of arousal blaze along my skin unchecked.
“Okay, Red. No names.”
I shiver at the delicious memory.
“I didn’t want to tell him my name. That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“I can’t believe you slept with a man whose name you don’t know. That’s sorta... badass. I honestly thought you were going to flake.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I was. I almost did. A few times. I’d basically given up when I found him.
But he was so gorgeous and sexy.” I exhale on a longing little sigh.
“I’ve never felt anything like it before.
The instant attraction. He was the only guy in the bar not in a suit.
He had tattoos, and stubble, and just looking at him turned me on more than Dustin ever did. ”
“What?”
I turn back to the dress, avoiding the censure in my friend’s voice.
“I’m sorry, but after all that recon, picking a classy hotel and a marketing conference, you picked up the only biker in the place?”
Tugging the straps off the hanger, I lift the silky fabric from its confines.
“He wasn’t a biker,” I protest, knowing nothing of the sort. I have a sudden vision of my hair blowing in the wind, my arms wrapped around him, the front of my body plastered to the back of his as we hit the open road on some big black and chrome beast of a Harley.
Mmmm. Maybe he is a biker…
I walk back to my bed.
“So? Are you going to see him again?” Shanna grabs the closest pillow and hugs it in her lap. Her expectant, dreamy look makes me grin. Shanna is a romantic, through and through. Trying to explain last night to her is difficult.
Because it wasn’t about being romanced.
It was about being wanted. About wanting.
Taking a walk on the wild side. Sneaking a peek through the looking glass.
“Are you sure you’re real?”
My mystery guy understood.
Last night was about living a fantasy, and boy did he ever deliver.
It was everything I wanted my walk on the wild side to be. More than I even knew to ask for. Until he showed up, I didn’t know three orgasms in one night was a real thing.
But Shanna’s content with the life she has.
Getting her MA in English Lit, working part-time at the campus bookstore, and moonlighting with the Foundation, helping me out with some of the bigger events.
She doesn’t get how much the boundaries of my life chafe.
And how could she, when I don’t quite understand it myself?
I’m good at my job. I get to meet amazing people. I have my family close, where I can take care of them. And best of all? I get to make a difference in the community. A real difference, thanks to the high profile of the Wolfpack and the support of the NHL in their philanthropic endeavours.
There’s nothing amiss on the checklist. I should be happy.
There’s no reason not to be.
And yet last night, I felt alive for the first time in... well, ever.
“I don’t even know his name, remember? That was the whole point of this. One night.”
One amazing night of not worrying about the consequences. Just the thrill of doing something I shouldn’t.
“Jesus, Red. You’re killing me.”
It was everything.
“Well, yeah, but that’s before you met Mr. Right.”
I laugh as I doff my housecoat and step into the blue dress, pulling it up my body. “He was definitely not Mr. Right. Mr. Right Now, at best.” That’s what I’m telling myself, anyway.
Because that was the rule. My rule.
Without being asked, Shanna gets to her knees and helps with my zipper. “How do you know? Did you ask him?”
Heat prickles up my neck and settles in my cheeks. “We didn’t spend much time talking.”
Shanna puts her hands on her hips. “You’re pretty stone cold for someone who may have just lost her future husband.”
“He is not the marrying type. Believe me.” Cocky, hard-bodied demigods with magic tongues who hang out in hotel lounges granting sex wishes are almost certainly not in the market for picket fences. I know that much. “And he might be in a biker gang, remember?”
I smooth the silky blue fabric down my hips, trying not to think about his big hands roaming my body. About other parts of him roaming my body.
“Better hold on tight, Red.”
I clear my throat. I know my cheeks are flushed by the wave of heat working up my face. “Besides, who says I’m looking for marriage?”
Shanna actually gasps. “What? I thought you wanted a family, a couple kids, a dog. Just because Dustin was the wrong guy doesn’t mean you’re never going to find the right one. Tell me you know that.”
“Who says there is a right guy? The divorce rate is staggering. My mother bailed on marriage after almost twenty years with my dad.” She bailed on me, too. “There are no guarantees.”
Shanna drops back into a sitting position on the bed. “I just want you to know it’s okay if you like this guy. You don’t have to cling to this wild woman persona with me.”
I force a smile. “I know. But I promise you, I’m fine. He was exactly what I needed. One night of fun and great sex. I’m hardly pining over him.” And to prove it, I change the subject to something completely unrelated.
“What do you think of this dress?” I twist in front of the mirror, inspecting myself from every angle. “I’m not sure about it.”
Something isn’t quite right, though I can’t put my finger on it.
Shanna bobs her head in approval. “It’s gorgeous on you. Brings out your eyes. Maybe you’ll like it more if you try it with the shoes?”
But on my way to the shoe rack, my attention snags on my closet doors and the white garment bag hidden behind them. “You know what? I think I’m going to wear the dress I got last time we went shopping together.”
Shanna frowns. “I thought you bought this dress especially for tonight?”
“I did.” I retrieve the sweetheart-necked column dress that feels like the right choice for the evening ahead. “But in this line of work, there’s always another gala. I’ll wear it next time.”
Shanna shrugs at me. “Your choice. I mean, you’ll look awesome in that one, too.”
I hang the bag on the back of the door and this time when I reveal the contents, my skin tingles with excitement.
I run my fingers down the striking crepe silk garment.
Just looking at the dress makes me feel confident. In control.
A little bit wild.
Tonight, I’m wearing red.