All Who Dream (Letting Go)

by Deese, Nicole

  “But what?”

  “Mr. Ross doesn’t make mistakes. He does what he wants.”

  There were closer to twenty gowns hooked on the inside of my dressing room door. I laughed to myself as I started the process of trying them on. Pippy waited outside the door, ready to give her approval, or disapproval, along with plenty of commentary each time I stepped out. A few size exchanges had to be made between unveilings, but for the most part, Pippy had been spot on with her guesses.

  Her enthusiasm never faltered; she was an endless supply of energy and optimism.

  I stood in the fourth navy, floor length gown she had brought to me.

  “Ooh…that is just such a great color on you! I definitely think we should get that one.”

  I laughed. “You have said that about every one I’ve put on so far. I think we should stick to three—total.”

  “What? No way. We are not leaving with only three. Mr. Ross gave me permission to expense whatever you need,” she said.

  Although I appreciated her help and kindness, I felt very uneasy about expensing more than what I knew I could repay. I had done the math in my head and three was the absolute maximum I could afford—if I stuck to the clearance dresses, which I planning on from the second we entered this fashion boutique.

  “Well, I think need is a bit of a strong term. Three will be suitable. I can just rotate them.”

  She frowned, puckering her lips, and then put her hands on her hips.

  “You aren’t planning to-”

  “Pippy, three will be just fine. Let me try on a few more, and then we can decide together which work best.”

  I shut the door of the dressing room and pulled out a champagne-colored gown from the mix. As I slipped into it, the dress spilled over my hips, sparkling like a chandelier in a ballroom. The gown’s tiny, spaghetti straps were barely visible, but they were the perfect set-up to the sweet-heart neckline. There was no doubt about it, this gown was the most gorgeous piece of attire I’d ever seen, much less, worn. Swaying in the mirror, the tag flipped over, revealing a number that caused me to gasp. Twenty-two hundred dollars!

  Pippy knocked with what I was sure was another load of options in her arms. With one hand holding my hair off my neck, I used the other to push open the door. But Pippy was no longer her cute, Pixie-like self, instead she had transformed into a wickedly-handsome man.

  Jackson’s eyes roamed the length of my dress, slowly making their way up to rest on my face. I dropped my hand from the loose up-do I was holding on top of my head. My hair spilled down my back and around my shoulders in one quick sweeping motion. Every cell in my body was aware of his presence, begging silently for his approval. He placed a hand at the back of his neck and looked away—briefly.

  He cleared his throat. “Pippy—uh, Pippy said there’s a problem?”

  “What? No…not that I know of.” I felt for the pendant at my neck and rubbed it gently between my fingers. He looked back again, watching my hand with interest.

  “She said you aren’t comfortable getting more than three dresses…Is there a reason?”

  He studied my face as if all my thoughts were written on display for him.

  “I don’t need more than that.”

  “Well, she seems to think otherwise.”

  He crossed his arms as if anchoring his position. Several ladies walked by us, throwing glances our way—his way in particular.

  “You probably shouldn’t be back here,” I whispered.

  “There are doors. They’ll live,” he mock-whispered back.

  His eyes challenged me to continue.

  I swallowed hard. “I can’t afford more than that.”

  He sighed. “There is nothing to afford. You’re not paying for them—I thought she explained that to you.”

  “I don’t feel right about the company paying for my formal wear—it’s not their fault I didn’t pack the right attire. I just need a short-term loan, and then I will repay it, three is what I can afford.”

  He opened his mouth twice before he spoke again, “So you’re saying you have a moral issue with the company expensing your dresses without repayment?”

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled once and shook his head, “Okay…well, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose. Make your selections, Miss Flores. I’ll speak with Pippy.”

  He turned to leave and then stopped, turning back to me as his eyes roamed my figure unabashed. My throat went dry.

  “You should get that one.”

  I shut myself inside the dressing room and bit my lip as a pink blush crept up my neck and into my cheeks. His statement wasn’t quite a compliment, but I’d seen something in his eyes just now…something that no longer could be concluded as disdain.

  Pippy and I had narrowed the selection down to ten, and from there I picked my favorites, and by favorites, I meant the least expensive. As an associate came over to carry the precious cargo up to the counter, my heart nearly beat out of my chest. I never spent this kind of my money on myself. Ever.

  Pippy looped her arm through mine. “Hey, let’s go grab some lunch. It sounds like the guys are hungry.”

  “Oh, okay. Don’t I need to get my bags?” I asked, peeking around her to the counter where my selections lay.

  “Uh, Walt is gonna swing by and pick them up so you don’t have to carry them into every store we go in today.”

  “Oh, alright. That’s nice of him.” I smiled, and so did she.

  Cody got his “New York hotdog” and was happy as could be. The rest of us preferred a sandwich, so we found a sub shop and sat at an outside patio table. The weather was warm, but not too warm. What a difference from the heat of Dallas. I enjoyed the fresh air immensely. Jackson was leaning back in his seat, scrolling through his emails and texts when I turned my head toward our social coordinator.

  “Tell me about your brother, Pippy?” I asked her.

  “Oh—Peter. You will probably meet him soon, he works for my, uh—Mr. Ross as well,” she said looking from Jackson to me and smiling. “He works as a liaison for our different publishing houses.”

  “Oh? So you spend a lot of time with him?” I asked.

  “Yeah. He’s my best friend.”

  The way she said it broke something loose inside my chest. Briggs and I were close like that, although things had changed a bit since he’d gotten married. But I had expected as much.

  “I’m very close with my brother, too. That’s a rarity.”

  “It is, yes. I couldn’t imagine not having him in my life. We are two peas in a pod—speaking of, he will just love Cody! He may be twenty, but I swear he never grew up. I’m sure he’d love to show Cody around and play some soccer with him at the park one day.”

  “Really? Your brother plays soccer?” Cody asked, invested in the conversation for the first time.

  “He sure does, and I hate it…so I’m sure he’d love to play with you!”

  “When can I meet him?”

  “I’ll find out. I’m sure he will be at one of the dinners next week, or maybe he can come by at a signing and meet you then.”

  Cody chomped on a big bite of hot dog, “Cool.”

  Pippy giggled and I echoed. Jackson looked up from his phone, his eyes regarding me curiously as a bolt of lightning charged through my core.

  Six weeks with Jackson Ross would be my undoing.

  Chapter Six

  Pulling Cody into the backseat with me on the ride home, I made sure the front was wide-open for a certain sexy bachelor. I could only handle so much Jackson in a day.

  Jackson hadn’t said much to me since our showdown in the dressing room, other than to ask if he could take Cody for ice cream. The request had actually come at the perfect time since Pippy had wandered inside a discount shoe store.

  Our lack of conversation was fine by me. I wasn’t up for another battle of wits with him. I needed to save my mental energy for dinner. Pippy said the gathering would be small—just the authors on tour and a few e
ditors. I was actually looking forward to the event.

  After we parked in front of the T. Ross Building, Walt assured me he’d have my purchases brought up to the apartment. I started to argue, but his sweet smile melted my heart.

  “Well, thank you,” I said.

  Jackson was on his phone, avoiding eye contact when I said goodbye to Pippy.

  Inside our room, I checked my phone messages. Rosie had called several times. While Cody rested on the couch watching Disney Channel, I logged in my daily chat time with Rose.

  “Hey! How are you?” she said.

  “Good—tired,” I admitted.

  “Tell me everything! I’m dying to know what it’s like…when you texted me that you were going shopping I just about passed out from jealousy!”

  I laughed. “It’s been good day so far—shopping in New York City is pretty fun if you have the cash to spend. Mr. Ross’s assistant is a great gal; she helped me pick out some evening dresses. You wouldn’t believe how many formal events these people put on over here.”

  “So what’s he like?”

  “Who? Mr. Ross?”

  “Don’t be coy with me. I Googled him! He’s a hottie!”

  Oy. “He’s…insufferable.”

  She laughed—hard. “No way! God doesn’t make packages that pretty for them to be rotten inside.”

  “Well, he might not be rotten, but he certainly isn’t ripe. He’s…I don’t know. He’s a mystery.”

  “Oooh Mysterious, huh? I don’t know…I think you’re holding something back.” Her tone lowered as if she was about to share a secret. “I would absolutely love to know what he thinks about you, though. I read he was a bachelor—a very rich bachelor. And I bet he was pretty surprised when he met you for the first time.”

  “Why do you say that?” I snapped, remembering that introduction with vivid clarity.

  “Because that picture on your blog is awful, Angie. It looks nothing like you! I told you to change it months ago.”

  “Hey! I like that picture. Cody had just won his first soccer game; it was a proud moment.” I huffed into the phone, furrowing my eyebrows.

  “Okay, sure…it was a good moment. But it was also ninety-five degrees outside and your hair was in a ponytail, not to mention it only shows half your face…the other half is of a soccer field! A soccer field!” she repeated. “All I’m saying is I would have loved to have seen his face when he met you. I bet you’re the most gorgeous author he’s ever had work with his company.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh heartily. If only the truth of our meeting wasn’t so humiliating, I would retell that shining moment in my history. But it was too embarrassing to recount, even to Rosie.

  “Well, keep on dreaming, sister. You didn’t miss anything. And I can assure you that Jackson Ross doesn’t think anything about me—not in the way you’re insinuating anyway.

  It was nice to catch up with Rosie. She was my connection to home—and real life. I filled her in on my phone call with Jenny and made sure she would follow up with her. She agreed. After our call ended, I closed my eyes. I just needed a few minutes… what could it hurt?

  I awoke with a start to my phone buzzing beside me. A glance at the bedside clock sent my pulse into overdrive. Oh, my gosh! I’ve been asleep for over an hour!

  The phone kept buzzing and I answered. It was Pippy.

  “Hey, I just wanted you to know I won’t be there tonight. I have to fix a scheduling crisis with a couple of the interviews for Monday.”

  “Oh.” I had only known Pippy for a couple days, but already she felt like my safety blanket in this world of unknowns. I was disappointed…and nervous to go without her.

  “Don’t worry—you’ll do great. It’s purely recreational tonight. Just get to know the others and have a great time.”

  I wanted to ask her if Jackson would be attending—the question was on the tip of my tongue during our entire conversation, but I refused to indulge my demented curiosity.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at the signing.”

  “Oh, on a Sunday?” I asked.

  “Yes, the tour doesn’t allow for many breaks—sorry.”

  “Okay…thanks for calling, Pippy. See you tomorrow.”

  We had an hour before Walt would be here to get us for dinner, and—wait, where are the dresses? I stumbled into the front room, and saw several large garment bags sitting on the couch next to Cody, who was playing on his new best pal, Mr. iPad.

  “Did you answer the door while I was sleeping, Cody?”

  “Uh, I looked through the peephole first, mom. I promise.” Cody glanced up and me quickly before returning to the wonder of his gaming device.

  Before I could unleash a mom-lecture, my eyes drifted to the bags again, mouth going dry.

  This isn’t right…there are too many. One, two, three…six! Six bags!

  Scooping them up in my arms, I laid the selections on my bad and then paced my floor as I tried to understand how this mistake could have been made. As I got up the nerve to open each bag, my stomach dropped to my knees.

  “No.” My voice was a shaky whisper as I pulled out the beautiful champagne-colored gown from one of the garment bags.

  All I could think about was the price of this one gown, one gown which could have paid my rent for nearly three months. Searching every last corner of each garment bag for the receipt I had specifically asked Pippy to supply me with, I turned up empty handed.

  I texted Pippy about the error, asking her to call me as soon as she could.

  No reply.

  The clock was ticking, and I had to get ready for dinner. I exhaled, envisioning the fancy boutique rejecting my request to return the items without a receipt. Tears pressed behind my eyes as I calculated the cost of such a mistake. I’d be paying Pinkerton Press back for a very long time.

  I was never frivolous. I’d lived lean for long enough to know that squandering money on temporary pleasures only resulted in the sacrifice of essentials: groceries, gas, utilities. Instead of pre-paying our rent and catching up on past-due bills with the advance money I’d received, now I had a closet full of silk to show for it.

  My chest ached.

  By the time Cody and I got into the car, my mind was so far down a rabbit trail of worry that I was in no mood to keep anyone company. Clothed in a money-sucking, plum-colored ensemble, I had just single-handedly thrown away more money than I had seen in years.

  I followed Cody through the dimly lit Italian restaurant, a symphony of swoony romance music dominating the atmosphere. I loved it immediately.

  We were the last to arrive. Two agents, three editors and four authors sat staring at their menus—but Jackson was not present. Formal introductions were made around the table before our waiter came by to get our drink orders.

  “Mom, do they have spaghetti here?” Cody whispered in my ear.

  “Yes, sweetheart, probably the best you’ve ever eaten.” I glanced at the prices on the menu and sucked in a breath. I’d never seen a dish of noodles cost so much.

  “May I sit here?”

  I looked up to see Jackson Ross peering down at me.

  My stomach flipped like a gymnast on a trampoline. Every molecule of moisture in my mouth was sucked into a black hole.

  “Sure.” I leaned into Cody while he sat down next to me.

  “I didn’t think you were coming.” Though I made the comment under my breath, I stared ahead at my glass of water.

  “I have a strict policy not to disappoint women, Miss Flores.” His voice was low and smooth, no detectable emotion behind it.

  I gulped a quick swig of my drink. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

  A crooked smile danced on his lips. “Try me.”

  I looked away immediately, mouth as dry as the Sahara once again.

  A deep rumble shook his chest while I tried to focus my attention on the Zimmerman’s agent—Carly Grant. She was telling a story about when she traveled to Denmark to meet a client a few years a
go. People were laughing, but the humor escaped me. I was too busy trying to forget that Jackson sat next to me.

  The night carried on as Cody worked to finish a bowl of spaghetti the size of New Jersey. He had been asked a lot of questions and was included in a great deal of the evening’s discussions. Their kindness toward my son blessed me. Many times in my life as a single mom I had been on the receiving end of eye rolls and whispers for bringing my son with me to places when most people would have hired a babysitter. This situation was one of the topics I had written about in a blog post, actually—a relatable topic for many in single parenting. Nights like this—nights where we could be treated like everyone else—were a rare, sweet gift.

  At the end of the meal I found myself worrying less about my dress-debacle and thoroughly engaged in the company of this group. If not for The Refuge or the walk-in customers at the flower shop, I would be a social shut-in. As it was, Rosie already thought me one.

  I enjoyed meeting people though—I loved hearing people’s life stories. They reminded me that not everyone faced tragedy and heartache to the degree I had known it. That fact gave me hope—for Cody.

  I smiled at him and reminded him softly to wipe his mouth with the napkin on his lap. He nodded.

  Surprisingly, Mr. Ross pulled my chair out as the guests at the table stood to say their goodbyes.

  We walked to the curb and waited for Walt to bring the car around.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll catch a ride back with you tonight.”

  I stared at him, leery of this new, seemingly well-mannered Jackson Ross.

  “Sure, of course,” I said.

  Inside the car, he checked his phone. Cody sat in the front like usual.

  “Tonight was nice,” I ventured.

  “Indeed.” He scrolled his thumb over the screen.

  “Do you go there often?” I asked.

  He glanced up at me, a tiny smirk on his face, “Yes. That is one of my regulars. Pane Di Vita is a great place—as is the owner.”

  “Oh.” I shifted in my seat, his close proximity causing me to sweat.

  I stared out the window and watched the lights of the city blur past. This city was a different kind of beautiful—New York. Loud, busy, crazy, chaotic…but I could find an appreciation for it, even if my heart did yearn for the quiet of country living. That dream would most likely stay just that—a dream.