“It’s perfect,” Calli said.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s gorgeous. At least try it on.”
“Wear it yourself if you like it so much.”
“I already have a dress on.”
Of course Calli did. In the seven years since they’d met, Annabelle had never once seen her friend wear shorts, jeans, or—heaven forbid—sweats.
Today’s outfit was a casual sundress, but with Calli’s peaches and cream complexion, blue eyes, and blonde, Disney-Princess hair, she’d undoubtedly catch the attention of every guy at the bar. And with every second that passed, the khakis and button down Annabelle had worn to the lab grew more grubby and constricting.
What the heck—it couldn’t hurt to try the dress on.
She stripped her clothes off and pulled on Liv’s creation. The tank wasn’t skin tight, but the delicate fabric molded to her body. The skirt swirled as she walked, and the deep blue color gave the sense that she was rising from the ocean.
“You look ama…amashing,” Calli said.
Annabelle stared at herself in the mirrored closet doors. The clothes had transformed her exactly like Calli had said, bringing out her inner hotness. She’d had no idea her baby sister was this talented. She really should have tried the outfit on.
Of course, even if she’d known how good it looked, she probably wouldn’t have worn it. It certainly wasn’t proper lab attire. Even on a date, she preferred something more conservative.
She let herself take one last glance at her reflection, committing it to memory. “It’s gorgeous, but I’m not sure it’s really me.”
“’Course it is. The new and improved you.”
Calli sounded so certain about it, like all Annabelle had to do was change her outfit, and she’d have a brand new personality to match her new style. She wished it were that easy. The woman in the mirror would have no problem taking charge of her sex life.
“Le’s go,” Calli slurred. “Taxi’s here.”
“One second.” Annabelle tried to shimmy out of the dress, but the fabric clung to her skin, like it didn’t want to let go. Like it knew that it belonged on her.
She’d promised herself that TAing for Human Sexuality would be a new beginning. A chance to let go of her past issues and move on with her life. Well, she was never going to move on to the healthy, loving relationship she longed for if she stayed locked in her apartment, dressed in khakis and sensible blouses.
She let the soft fabric fall back over her knees. With one last look in the mirror, she made her decision. For at least one night, she was going to be the woman she saw staring back at her.
Confident. Bold. Someone who knew what she wanted and didn’t hesitate to take it.
CHAPTER 6
THE FIRST THING Ty saw was the scrape. Even in the dim light of Sean’s apartment entryway, it was impossible to miss—a huge swath of scabs starting at Sean’s calf and disappearing under his shorts. The kite must’ve dragged him half way across the beach.
“Damn, man. What’d you do to piss off the kiteboarding gods?”
“The wind picked up at the wrong time.” Sean disappeared inside. “Want a beer?”
“Must’ve hurt like a motherfucker.”
Bottles clinked as Sean opened the fridge. “I’ve had worse.” He spoke in a flat, emotionless tone that made the hairs along the back of Ty’s neck stand up and salute.
It was like the injury had happened to someone else. Like Sean’s body had split off from his mind, becoming a separate, entirely disposable entity.
Shit. What if Keri had been right? “You went to the doc, right? Got it cleaned out?”
“You sound like your sister.” Sean’s voice went an octave higher than normal. “You need to see a doctor, Sean. This is serious.”
“Fuck off,” Ty said, but he didn’t put much force behind it. Sean sounded normal now. Ty needed to stop letting his drama-queen sister plant crazy ideas in his head.
“She practically had a heart attack when she saw it.” Sean handed Ty one of the chilled longnecks, keeping the other for himself. “I know she’s only had one year of med school, but she should still be able to tell the difference between a little scrape and a life-threatening injury.”
“You know how she is.”
Sean clicked on the remote, effectively ending the conversation.
Ty sat down. He tried to concentrate on the game, but he wasn’t in the mood for baseball.
Sean must’ve sensed it, because half way through the seventh inning he muted the big-screen TV that served as the only form of decoration in his living room. “What’s with you?”
“I’m tired. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to study.”
“Can’t be harder than BUD/S training.”
He dug up a smile. “Yeah, well…it’s been a long time since I’ve done that too.”
Sean winced, and Ty gave himself a mental kick in the nuts as a whole lot of awkward flooded the room.
Sean examined the label on his beer bottle. “Look, Easy. I know what this is really about. You miss her.”
Goosebumps marched down Ty’s spine. How had Sean found out about Annabelle?
“It doesn’t have to be this way. Hardy told me she’s in Reno, waiting tables at some club called Vapor.”
Reno? Vapor?
Finally, Ty connected the dots—Sean was talking about Bri—and the goosebumps stood down. “No, man. It’s not like that.”
“Go after her. You know how to talk to women. Talk to her. Work your Tyler MacKinnon magic.”
“It’s over with Bri. I told you that.”
“It doesn’t have to be. If you lo—” Sean paused. He swallowed a couple of times, like trying to say the L word had made him nauseous.
Ty let Sean hang there for a minute, eyes bugging out, skin green, but eventually he had to take pity on his friend. “This isn’t about Bri.”
“You can’t give up because you hit a little bump.”
“It wasn’t a bump. It was the entire universe telling me—”
“You and your universe bullshit. Don’t be so damn stubborn. Maybe the universe wants you to get off your lazy ass and do a little work for once.”
“It’s not bullshit. It’s—” He broke off as Sean’s words finally penetrated his iron-plated skull. His friend was right.
Not about Bri, but about Annabelle. Maybe Ty hadn’t been wrong about the signs after all. Maybe the universe had specifically chosen him to help Annabelle because he cared about her. Because he wouldn’t give up at the first sign of trouble.
He stood up, turning his back on the TV even though the Padres had three men on base at the top of the ninth.
“Wait. Where are you—”
“Sorry, man.” He’d explain everything to Sean later. First, he needed to see Annabelle. “Gotta go.”
Sean pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket. “Here’s the address.”
Ty was so busy composing his arguments for Annabelle that it took him a second to figure out what Sean was talking about. “I’m not going to Vapor.”
“Then where the hell are you going?”
“Wish me luck. I’ve got some work to do.
*
Annabelle had to admit, the bar was classy. Top Shelf Mixology, housed in the penthouse of the tallest downtown skyscraper, was the bar of choice for beautiful people who wielded serious power: supermodels, actors, CEOs, politicians. And even, if rumors could be believed, visiting royalty.
Their notoriously exclusive admissions policy had only made entrance more sought after. Annabelle surveyed the line, which wound half way around the block, and couldn’t stifle her sigh of relief. “Oh well. Back to vodka and tonic at your place.”
“No way.” Calli pulled her to the end of the line. “We came to find our perfect rebound men, and we’re not leaving until we do.”
“The line isn’t even moving.”
“We just got here. Have a little patience.”
Ann
abelle craned her neck, trying to see past a blonde in platform heels. Three men guarded the massive steel panels that served as entryway to the club. With their dark suits, earpieces, and serious expressions, they looked more like secret service agents protecting the president than bouncers deciding which beautiful people would get the privilege of taking the elevator up to Top Shelf.
She imagined them looking her over. Taking in her hastily applied lipstick and handmade dress. Waving her off to make room for the brunette behind her, who she was pretty sure she’d seen in the Victoria’s Secret catalog.
She shivered. Where the heck are you when I really need you, vodka? “How about we go to that cute place in Little Italy? There were lots of hot guys there last time.”
“Hot Anderan guys?” Calli punctuated the question with a drunken giggle.
And, suddenly, the venue choice made way more sense. Calli’s mother had been born in the tiny European nation, and Calli was obsessed with all things Anderan. Last fall, they’d spent four hours driving from grocery store to grocery store, trying to find some obscure spice Calli had to have to make a special bread for the Anderan New Year. And Calli routinely refused to leave the house before she’d checked all her favorite Anderan websites.
Annabelle sighed. “If you dragged me here because of that stupid blog—”
“Anja’s blog is a modern record of Anderan…you know. What’s that word? With the art and the customs and the… Culture!” Calli said, with a triumphant fist pump. “It’s a modern record of Anderan culture.”
“It’s the Anderan version of TMZ.”
“Maybe,” Calli allowed, grudgingly. “But TMZ is fun. And, anyway, if I hadn’t read today’s post, I wouldn’t’ve known that a bunch of Anderan businessmen are in town for the week, and they’ve been sighted at Top Shelf. Really, you should be thanking me.”
“For making me wait in line in these heels?”
“For finding you the right rebound man. Anderan men aren’t the same as American men. They’re more refined. More thoughtful.”
“And Anderan wine is smoother and Anderan literature is more complex. If you love Andera so much, why aren’t you living there?”
“Because I’d miss you.” Calli threw her arms around Annabelle, giving her a big, wet kiss in the middle of the cheek. “Now put on your happy face, because we’re about to meet the men of our dreams.”
“Calli, honey—I love you. I do. But I’m getting blisters and that line is not moving.”
“Don’t worry. I made eye contact with one of the bouncers.”
“And I put in a call to Amber Watts to see if she could get us on the VIP list. Seriously—”
“See. He’s coming over.”
“No he’s…” Crap. There he was, ten feet away and closing fast.
“Hi!” Calli said, way too loudly.
The hulking brute looked Calli over, but not in an I’m-trying-to-picture-you-naked way.
Alarm bells blared in Annabelle’s head. If the guy wasn’t another one of Calli’s many admirers, there was only one other possibility. He was going to ask them to leave.
“Excuse me, miss. Would you and your friend please follow me?”
Annabelle’s face burned. Sure, she’d wanted to get out of here, but being forcibly bumped from the end of the line was an epic low. “That’s really not necessary. We can—”
“Right this way, please.”
“See,” Calli said.
Annabelle belatedly noticed that the bouncer was motioning her and Calli toward the entrance rather than away from it. “You want us to go inside?”
Calli elbowed her, and her jaw snapped shut. She followed Calli and the bouncer toward the entrance. The other two bouncers hauled open the steel doors, letting her and Calli into a small entryway where a marble-tiled elevator stood open.
“Go straight up,” Bouncer One said. “Enjoy your evening.”
Under his watchful gaze, she and Calli stepped into the elevator. The doors closed smoothly.
She reached out to press the button, but instead of the panel she expected, there was only smooth, mirrored wall. The elevator glided upward.
“What happened?” She wasn’t sure if she was asking Calli or herself or the invisible elevator operator.
“The nice man brought us to the front of the line.”
“But why?”
“Probably because he saw this.” Calli held out her necklace, an ornate silver filigree pendant her mother had brought from Andera. “Anja said Anderan women have been getting bumped to the front of the line all week. Ever since that contingent of Anderan businessmen was first sighted here.”
The elevator doors opened onto a spacious room that looked like an old-fashioned apothecary shop. An old-fashioned apothecary shop owned by a multi-billionaire.
Annabelle took a cautious step onto the mosaic-tiled floor. None of the people sipping fancy cocktails seemed to sense intruders in their midst, so she took another step, approaching the mahogany paneled bar, which was lined with hundreds of different taps.
Calli was still babbling about Anja’s blog, speculating about who the mysterious Anderan businessmen might be. She sounded slightly crazy, but much less drunk than she’d been twenty minutes ago.
“You think some Anderan high roller saw your necklace from fifty feet away, in the dark, and told the bouncer to let you into the club?”
“Either that, or he thought we were hot. I told you—you look amazing.”
“This bar is filled with women who look amazing.”
“And yet, that guy is still checking us out,” Calli said, smugly.
Annabelle started to follow Calli’s gaze, but she got distracted half way there by the floor-to-ceiling window. She’d lived in San Diego her whole life, but she’d never seen the downtown skyline like this—peaceful and quiet and contained, everything so small that it couldn’t possibly hurt her. Up here, it actually seemed reasonable that she could take control of her love life.
She let out a slow breath. “Wow.”
“I know. That, my friend, is the perfect rebound man.”
“Oh!” Annabelle belatedly noticed the guy Calli was staring at.
“It doesn’t get any hotter than that. Am I right?”
“He’s so…blonde.”
“What’s wrong with blonde?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it. But I like guys with darker hair. Maybe a little bit of a five o’clock shadow and—” Crap—she was describing Ty.
“No, don’t stop. If I know what you’re looking for, I can help you find him.”
Good luck with that. He’s not here.
Annabelle gave herself a mental shake for letting thoughts of Ty intrude on her evening. Again.
“No,” she said. “It doesn’t matter what type of guys I’ve gone for in the past. I want to be open to new experiences. I’m sick of being trapped in the same rut.”
“Then you should say hello to Mr. Blonde and Perfect.”
“Me? He’s staring at you.”
“No. He’s definitely staring at you. Does he look familiar?”
“Uh…” Annabelle glanced over. The guy was blonde, clean cut, and perfect, but he didn’t look like anyone she knew. Unless you counted a Disney prince. “No.”
Disney Prince stood, and his bodyguards sprang into action, flanking him.
“Oh my God,” Calli squeaked. “I think that’s… No. No way! Anja didn’t say anything about him being here tonight.”
“Who?”
“It’s… He’s…”
“Hello.” The man offered Calli his hand. “I am Prince Edward Wallace.”
Oh crap. Had Annabelle called him a Disney prince out loud? But, no—he’d given his introduction with a totally straight face.
“I’m Callista Larson.” Calli stared at Disney Prince, her eyes wide, like he’d hypnotized her with his blinding white teeth and broad shoulders.
For the love of God. Calli had a talent for attracting jerks, but some trust-fund loser
who was so insecure he posed as a prince? Not on Annabelle’s watch.
“I hope this isn’t too forward,” Disney Prince said, “but as soon as I saw you, I knew we must meet.”
Annabelle raised her eyebrows halfway up her forehead, but Calli was too busy melting to notice. Maybe it was the Anderan accent—like English, but a touch more exotic.
“No, it’s not too forward at all. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
“And you. Callista is a beautiful name.” Disney Prince spent way too long rolling Calli’s name around in his mouth.
Enough. Annabelle poked Calli in the ribs.
“Thank you.” Calli beamed at Disney Prince.
Annabelle jabbed her harder.
Calli jumped. “Oh! I’m so sorry. How rude of me. This is my friend Annabelle.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Annabelle.” Disney Prince shook her hand. “I would be honored if you ladies would join me at my table.”
“Actually—” Annabelle started, but she was drowned out by Calli’s overly enthusiastic, “We would love to.”
“Don’t worry,” Calli whispered as she hauled Annabelle forward. “I’m still on the lookout for Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome for you.”
“That’s not—”
“Annabelle?” Disney Prince had pulled out a chair for her.
She sat, gritting her teeth to keep from finishing her sentence.
Disney Prince poured them champagne from a bottle with what appeared to be actual gold leaves twined around it. “And what is it you do, Callista?”
“I’m an author. I write children’s books.”
“That’s wonderful. I still remember my favorite books from childhood. They have shaped me into the man I am today.”
Calli positively glowed as she told Disney Prince about her latest book. Taking advantage of the happy couple’s preoccupation with each other, Annabelle got her phone out of her purse and did an internet search for Prince Edward. When Calli saw that even Google had never heard of—
Love and Learn (Voretti Family Book 2) Page 6