Chapter Eight
Meagan had prepared for the gala with the same precision she applied to contract negotiations and international travel.
Her dress had been steamed twice.
Her shoes had been tested on hardwood, tile, and the stone path behind Hailey’s bungalow.
Her purse contained lipstick, mints, adhesive bandages, two safety pins, a phone charger, and the stain-removal pen Amanda had called unromantic before requesting permission to borrow it.
Every practical detail had been handled.
None of it explained why Meagan’s hands were trembling.
She stood in Hailey’s guest room wearing the dark blue dress while Amanda adjusted one of the crossed straps at her back.
“Stop moving.”
“I am standing still.”
“Your shoulders are expressing panic.”
“My shoulders are not expressive.”
Amanda met her eyes in the mirror. “They are tonight.”
The dress fit exactly as it had during the rehearsal. The deep blue fabric followed Meagan’s figure without feeling revealing, and the narrow straps left her shoulders bare. Her brown hair fell in soft waves, one side pinned away from her face with a silver clip Hailey had loaned her.
She looked polished.
Elegant.
Nothing like the tired woman Aaron had found tangled in string lights one week earlier.
That should have made facing Daniel easier.
Instead, Meagan kept remembering the way Aaron had looked at her when he saw the dress on rehearsal day.
You’re not too much.
Hailey appeared in the doorway wearing a soft pink dress.
“He’s here.”
Meagan’s pulse jumped.
Amanda smiled. “Her shoulders did it again.”
“No one is monitoring my shoulders.”
“Someone should.”
Hailey crossed the room and stopped in front of Meagan.
“You look beautiful.”
The sincerity in her voice tightened Meagan’s throat.
“Thank you.”
“And you don’t have to prove anything tonight.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to impress Daniel.”
“I know.”
“You also don’t have to work the gala.”
Meagan paused.
Hailey lifted one eyebrow.
“I helped organize it.”
“You are attending it.”
“What if something goes wrong?”
“Then Evelyn will handle it.”
“What if she needs help?”
“Then Aaron will distract you.”
Meagan accepted the silver clutch Amanda handed her.
“That is an alarming use of foundation resources.”
Amanda opened the bedroom door. “He is highly qualified.”
“For distraction?”
“I have references.”
They entered the living room together.
Tyler stood near the front window in a dark suit and pale blue tie. Jack was beside him, examining the small volleyball tie clip attached to his jacket.
“It looks like a pearl,” Jack complained.
Amanda moved toward him. “That is how volleyballs work.”
“It is threatening my dignity.”
“You arrived without enough dignity for that to be a concern.”
Jack caught her around the waist when she reached for the tie clip.
Meagan barely noticed.
Aaron stood near the front door wearing a dark navy suit, white shirt, and a tie nearly the same color as her dress. His hair had been pushed away from his forehead, though one piece had already fallen loose near his temple.
A small white box rested in one hand.
Then he saw her.
Aaron went completely still.
The conversation around them continued, but Meagan stopped hearing it.
His gaze moved over her slowly, not in a way that made her feel inspected.
In a way that made her feel discovered.
When his eyes returned to her face, the warmth in them stole the breath from her lungs.
“Hi,” he said.
One word.
Her pulse treated it like an event.
“Hello.”
Aaron crossed the room and stopped in front of her.
“You look beautiful.”
“You already saw the dress.”
“I know I did.”
“You said the same thing then.”
“I know that too.”
“Then why do you sound surprised?”
His gaze held hers.
“Seeing the dress wasn’t the part that surprised me.”
“What was?”
“How much I wanted to be the person standing beside you while you wore it.”
The room went quiet.
Or perhaps Meagan simply stopped hearing everyone else.
Amanda made a muffled sound.
Jack said, “No.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Amanda whispered.
“You were preparing to.”
Aaron raised the white box.
“This is for you.”
Meagan lifted the lid. Inside lay a delicate wrist corsage made of small white flowers, pale blue ribbon, and tiny green leaves.
“A corsage?”
Aaron’s mouth curved. “Too much?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
“It’s beautiful.”
He removed it carefully.
“May I?”
Meagan extended her arm.
Aaron slid the ribbon around her wrist. His fingers brushed the inside of her arm as he adjusted the flowers, sending warmth toward her shoulder.
When the corsage was secure, he kept her hand in his.
“Is this necessary touching?” she asked quietly.
“Not even slightly.”
His smile was small.
Meagan did not release him.
Amanda inhaled.
Meagan looked toward her. “One word, and you are no longer invited.”
Amanda pressed her lips together.
Aaron lifted Meagan’s hand slightly.
“Ready?”
She thought about Daniel.
Celeste.
The director position.
Tuesday morning.
The future waiting beyond the gala.
Then she looked at Aaron.
“No.”
His thumb moved gently against her fingers.
“Honest.”
“I am trying something new.”
“I like it.”
“That is because you are not the one experiencing it.”
“I’m nervous too.”
“About the gala?”
“No.”
He held her gaze.
“About how much I want tonight to matter.”
Meagan’s fingers tightened around his.
“Then we should go.”
***
The Shoreline House had been transformed.
Golden light spilled from its windows and stretched across the terraces. White canopies rose above the lower lawn, wrapped in greenery and strands of tiny lights. Coral and ivory flowers filled the tables, and glass lanterns lined the stone path toward the beach.
Beyond the property, the sun hovered above the ocean, turning the horizon gold.
Guests in cocktail attire moved between the ballroom and terraces while a string quartet played near the entrance.
Aaron’s hand rested lightly at Meagan’s back as they approached the building. Exactly as they had practiced.
Nothing about it felt like practice anymore.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He waited.
Meagan looked toward the crowded terrace.
“I will be.”
“That’s allowed too.”
At the entrance, Meagan reached for her purse.
Aaron’s hand shifted against her back.
“What do you need?”
“My invitation.”
“You don’t need it.”
“What if there is a problem with the guest list?”
“There isn’t.”
“You cannot know that.”
“I checked.”
She turned toward him. “When?”
“This afternoon.”
“Why?”
“Because you would worry.”
Meagan stared at him.
“You checked the list so I wouldn’t have to?”
“Yes.”
“That was unnecessary.”
“I know.”
The familiar answer softened something inside her.
Aaron offered his arm.
Meagan looked at it.
“We can walk without linking arms.”
“I remember.”
“You are doing this publicly.”
“That is generally where galas happen.”
“Aaron.”
His expression gentled.
“I’m not embarrassed to be here with you.”
The words reached the part of her that still expected affection to become quieter when other people were watching.
Meagan linked her arm through his and entered together.
Evelyn stood just inside the cocktail room wearing a black dress and her red glasses. Her face brightened when she saw Meagan.
“You came.”
“I confirmed attendance.”
“People confirm many things they fail to do.”
“That sounds inefficient.”
“It is infuriating.”
Her gaze shifted to the flowers on Meagan’s wrist.
“You brought her a corsage.”
Aaron nodded. “I did.”
“Good.”
Meagan looked between them. “Was that a requirement?”
“No,” Evelyn said. “But I approve.”
A photographer approached.
“May I get a picture of the foundation team?”
Meagan stepped back.
The photographer pointed toward her. “You too.”
“I’m not on the foundation team.”
Evelyn touched her elbow. “You are tonight.”
“I did not agree to that.”
“You fixed the seating chart, rental delivery, auction placement, and memory display.”
“I assisted.”
“You worked more hours than two committee members.”
“That is not difficult to believe.”
Aaron smiled.
Evelyn guided Meagan toward the banner where directors and volunteers had gathered.
Meagan looked at Aaron.
“Come with me.”
The words escaped before she considered them.
His expression warmed.
“Of course.”
He joined her in front of the banner and settled one hand at her waist.
The photographer lifted the camera.
“Everyone closer.”
Aaron turned slightly toward her.
Meagan leaned into him.
Not because the photographer required it. Because she wanted to.
The camera flashed.
“Another.”
Aaron looked down at her.
Meagan looked up.
The second flash captured the moment before either remembered to face forward.
The photographer lowered the camera.
“That one is better.”
Meagan suspected Amanda would have the photograph before dinner.
Her phone buzzed inside her purse less than a minute later.
Amanda: I have the picture.
Meagan: How?
Amanda: I have relationships.
Meagan locked the screen.
Aaron glanced at her. “Amanda?”
“She has the photograph.”
“That was really fast.”
“She has relationships.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Constantly.”
They moved onto the upper terrace.
The ocean stretched beyond the railing, darker beneath the setting sun. Music drifted from the lawn, where a pianist and singer performed beneath a canopy.
Aaron stopped beside a cocktail table.
“Do you want to stay here or go inside?”
Meagan looked toward the ballroom.
Daniel stood near Table Four speaking with two representatives from Beachline Resort.
Celeste was beside him in a fitted red dress. Her dark hair fell in a sleek line at her shoulders, and her lipstick matched the dress precisely.
Beautiful.
Confident.
Exactly the woman Meagan had imagined could book a last-minute flight to Lisbon and consider the lack of planning an advantage.
Daniel turned.
His gaze found Meagan, then moved to Aaron, the corsage, and Aaron’s hand at her back.
Meagan’s stomach tightened.
Aaron did not follow her gaze.
He watched her.
“We can stay here,” he said.
“You saw them.”
“I saw you see them.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know.”
His thumb moved once against her back.
“But you don’t have to walk over there before you’re ready.”