Chapter 10
On Wednesday, Tessa and Iris are helping me get ready for my big date.
They know it’s fake and believe The Plan is great fun. So when Iris asked if she could help me get ready, Tessa declared she was joining in too.
I don’t mind. I don’t get to spend as much time with the younger three as I do Natalie and Audrey, so I’m happy for any opportunity outside our normal schedule.
So twenty minutes before I need to leave with Wes, Iris is trying to tame my hair with a curling iron and Tessa is inspecting every piece of jewelry I possess, talking through the pros and cons of each one before making her choice.
I already had jewelry picked out to match my pretty boho dress with a smocked bodice in a blue-and-gray floral fabric, but I don’t want to disappoint Tessa, so I agreed to let her choose the jewelry.
“That necklace is too big,” Iris says, cutting her eyes from my hair to the elaborately beaded necklace Tessa is holding up. “The dress has enough going on up top. It needs something smaller.”
I actually agree with Iris, but I don’t want to sound like I’m playing favorites. So I say, “Tessa is still deciding, I think.”
“Yes, I am.” Tessa makes a face at Iris. “I wasn’t going to pick that one. I was just looking.”
I meet Iris’s eyes in the mirror, and we share a look of amused relief.
Tessa was indeed about to choose the overdone necklace, so Iris saved me from an awkward conversation.
“What about this?” Tessa lifts a simple necklace with pretty blue stones spaced widely on a vintage silver chain. “This is small, right? And the blue will match your dress.”
Relieved, I smile at her for real. “That one is perfect! I never would have thought of it, but it will look beautiful. There are some earrings that match if you can find them.”
While Tessa excitedly hunts for the matching earnings, Iris puts down the curling iron and hooks the necklace around my neck.
“My hair looks beautiful,” I tell her. “I can’t believe you made it look so good.”
I’m not lying. She did an amazing job with my thick mop of long hair, smoothing down all the frizzes and giving more structure to the wild waves with some big, loose curls.
Iris is clearly pleased with her work, beaming as she smooths down my hair after hooking the necklace.
“Here they are!” Tessa announces, bouncing over with the earrings.
It takes a degree of courage, but I let her put them in my ears, relieved when she exerts effort to be careful instead of doing it in her normal headlong rush.
When I stand up to examine myself in the full-length mirror on the wall, Tessa claps her hands in glee and Iris grins and says, “You look gorgeous.”
I do look good. There’s no denying it. I’m used to seeing a low-key pretty reflection in the mirror, but I’m not used to looking this put together.
“Wes is going to fall down dead when he sees you,” Iris says.
I give her a quick, surprised look.
“It’s obvious he thinks you’re pretty,” she says, looking slightly confused by my reaction. “Don’t you know that?”
My cheeks warm. “I doubt he thinks about it much.”
“Of course he does. He’s always gazing at you besottedly when he thinks you’re not looking.” Iris says the words like they’re self-evident, like no one could doubt them.
Tessa falls into giggles, gasping about Wes being “besotted.”
I flush hotter and tell them both not to be silly.
But I can’t help but wonder.
He doesn’t dislike me the way I always assumed. He’s acted like he doesn’t mind hanging out with me lately.
Maybe he does think I’m pretty.
Maybe he’ll think I’m prettier than normal tonight.
Later that evening, I’m crossing my legs in my seat, wishing I hadn’t drunk the bottle of water on the drive to DC.
My mouth was dry, so I kept sipping the water, but now I have to pee, which means I’ll have to fight the crowds swarming the women’s room at intermission.
We have good seats. Wes is on the aisle, not far from one of the exits.
I scouted the restrooms on the way in, and they’re not far from the closest exit doors.
Normally, as soon as the applause began after this final song of the act, I’d jump up and run for the restroom, but that doesn’t feel like a very cool, relaxed move.
Wes might think it’s silly. He might be embarrassed or self-conscious about me sprinting for the bathroom.
I want to impress him. Not give him something else to mock about me.
The normal thing would be to stay through the applause and then proceed to line up at the women’s room with everyone else.
That’s what I should do.
Why did I drink so much water?
“What’s the matter?” Wes has leaned over to murmur the question in my ear as the singers on stage are building into a rousing climax.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Intermission is after this song.”
“I know.”
He straightens up, silent as he watches my face in the dim light.
He’s thinking. I can almost hear his brain buzzing as he tries to figure out what’s gotten me uptight.
I give him a blithe smile in an attempt to divert him.
It doesn’t work.
He leans over again and murmurs, “As soon as the applause begins, we’ll make a run for it.”
I stiffen, my eyes wide. “We don’t have to.”
“Why not? We should try to beat the crowds, otherwise you’ll have to wait in line for ages.”
I check his face to make sure he’s serious. He is. Well, his mouth and eyes are laughing, but he means what he says.
He wants us to make a run for the restroom.
“Okay.” I’m hiding a smile as I watch the final minute of the song that ends the first act.
Then, as soon as the audience bursts into loud applause, Wes and I make a dash for the exit.
We’re both laughing as we do, and he grabs my hand after a few steps, holding on to me as we hurry.
A couple of other women had the same idea, but there isn’t a line when we reach the women’s room.
I’m still giggling as I wave toward Wes and quickstep into the restroom.
I glance back to see that Wes is heading for the men’s room.
For some reason, that fact makes me laugh even more.