Her ploy worked a little too well, however, as she found herself altogether too quickly abandoned at the terrace railing. Maybe she should have attempted at least a moment or two of clever banter. “Right, because the witty bon mots were just waiting to trip off your tongue.” “Trip” being the key word, most likely.
But instead of bemoaning her suddenly single status, she would use these critical minutes to figure out how she wanted the evening to go. Then come up with a plan to make that happen. “Sure,” she muttered beneath her breath. “Right after I solve the world energy crisis and bring peace to the Middle East.” Once a nerd, always a nerd.
They had yet to actually have even the bare minimum of a conversation. Surely he planned to talk to her. In between more kisses, that is. She shivered a little at the thought of his mouth on hers again. She’d never dreamed that—
“Didn’t your fairy godmother tell you never to leave home without your cape?”
Lucy jerked her head around at the familiar voice. “Hey! What are you doing here?”
Grady stood before her, wearing a retro 1980s tuxedo-print T-shirt and a loosely constructed black suit jacket, holding the beaded shawl she must have dropped somewhere between the ballroom and the terrace.
“Coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress?” he said, offering her the silk wrap.
He had that same wry twist of the lips of the Grady of old. And for a split second, her entire being seemed to settle down and relax. Except Grady hadn’t been her sanctuary lately. And as much as she wanted to hide in the shelter of his confident charm, she resisted. Wasn’t tonight all about learning to stand on her own two feet?
She took the shawl from him and smiled briefly. “Thanks.” She prayed he disappeared before Jason came back. He hadn’t recognized her yet, but he might remember Grady. She didn’t want him putting two and two together until she had a better handle on what was happening between the two of them. Seeing her together with Grady, he of the curly mop of hair that hadn’t changed much since his senior-year photo, which she noted he hadn’t pinned to his lapel, either, might trigger some latent memories. None of them good. She wanted to build a few more current ones before risking dredging up any ancient ones. If she ever did.
Plus, Grady wasn’t always known for observing a proper sense of decorum. If he thought action should be taken, he took it. If something needed to be said, he said it. And damn the consequences. So there was no telling what he’d do when he found out who she was with. Especially after her repeated insistences that she was here for herself, not to land Jason Prescott.
Which meant she had to get rid of him. The irony. After wanting him to be there for her these past couple of months, when he finally came through, she couldn’t wait for him to disappear. She told herself she’d make it up to him later, explain everything. That is, if she could. She just wanted this one fairy-tale night. Was that too much to ask?
“I, uh, I thought you wouldn’t be caught dead at a, how did you phrase it? ‘An event that glorifies the age-old coda of class distinction and the importance of being popular through the ages.’”
Grady shrugged, gave her his most endearing, puppy-dog look. What most people missed was the wry, twisty lip smile thing. Always a sign to never fall for the puppy-dog part. Women never seemed to get that about Grady. Of course, she wasn’t sure Grady cared all that much. The puppy-dog look had its bonuses, as well, apparently.
“Jana made me.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “She did not!”
The twisty smile grew. “Well, no. But she lobbied awfully hard. She was actually planning to come. With Dave. As a surprise to you. And maybe a collective finger to our lovely graduating class.”
The three of them had discussed, early on when the invites had first arrived, the pros and cons of attendance. On the pro side was the fact that Jana was both a well-respected journalist now, and she happened to be married to an even more well-known local icon, the Capitals’ goalie. This would have given her instant entrée into the inner circle they’d so coveted in their stupid formative years.
They’d even debated on how, once Jana was firmly ensconced, she’d bring in Lucy and Grady, then make some scathingly grand social commentary on how shallow they all still were, to hold job titles and marital status higher than personal truths and real friendship.
Ultimately they’d discarded their plans for global reunion domination. Mostly because Jana didn’t need to make a scene that might be overheard, or, God forbid, photographed, and elevate their little-known event into the national eye. She didn’t need to be quoted in the gossip column of her very own paper.
Grady hadn’t wanted to go at all. Which left Lucy to make the decision on her own. So as much as she appreciated the Musketeerian show of support, she also kind of resented the idea that, in the end, her friends had thought she couldn’t handle it on her own.
“She’s still having a really hard time with her round-the-clock morning sickness. So she blackmailed me, instead.”
Lucy smiled despite her mild annoyance. “Oh? I didn’t realize she had ‘blackmail’ material on you. I see we’re going to have to have a little talk.”
Something flitted across Grady’s face, a brief expression of . . . well, she couldn’t really name it. But it hadn’t been positive. “She’d probably appreciate the visit,” he said.
What went unsaid, but was well heard, was the attendant, “when you can find time to squeeze her in.”
Lucy knew her obsession with tonight had caused her to exclude her friends more than she’d have liked to. But if they’d been more supportive, maybe she wouldn’t have felt like she had to. They didn’t want to know all about her plans. So she hadn’t felt inclined to share the details with them. She’d just have to defend them, and frankly, she was a little tired of it.
For a split second she thought that maybe it would be a good idea if Jason were to stroll back to her just then, after all. Show Grady, who would certainly tell Jana, that she could hold her own. That in fact, not only had she not embarrassed herself tonight, she’d landed the very available, much-talked-about former prom king as her dance partner and up-on-the-roof kissing partner. One she wanted to reclaim before any more of her perfect evening was wasted. Speaking of which, where was Jason, anyway?
She surreptitiously glanced beyond Grady’s shoulder. “Well, tell Jana I really appreciate her concern from afar. And her sending in the Black Knight to do her dirty work. But I’m holding my own just fine, thank you very much.” She’d meant to say that last part with a smiling sense of reassurance. Perhaps it had come out a bit more defensive than that.
Grady’s expression had faltered a bit at the Black Knight comment. He looked her up and down for the first time. And in that one look Lucy felt every bit the imposter they both knew she was tonight. Any charitable sense of kinsmanship she’d felt she owed him fled in that second. How dare he come here and try to ruin her night when he knew how much it meant to her? No matter whether he believed in it or not.
“You do look amazing, Cinderella,” he said. And she was momentarily caught off guard by the almost sincere-sounding note in his voice, the hint of what had sounded a lot like awe. She’d been prepared for acerbic. For dry. Maybe even sarcastic. His expression had telegraphed as much, after all.
So she didn’t answer right away. She fidgeted for a moment. Suddenly feeling like Lucy Harper, circa senior year. The tape was itchy. And these heels were killing her arches. Her calves were knotting up from the unbalanced gravitational pull she was placing on them. Plus her thong might need to be surgically removed at this point. Not one of these things had occurred to her the entire time she was with Jason. She’d been floating on air.
She wanted to float again, dammit.
“Thanks. I, uh, I need to go see what happened to my date,” she finally stammered, then tried not to look mortified that she’d given it away, so inelegantly, after all her worrying and to-and-fro-ing.
“‘Date’?”
&nbs
p; He’d said it with surprise. And she could hardly blame him. After all, he better than anyone knew she hadn’t had one when she’d shown up tonight. But it hit her the wrong way. As if she couldn’t land a date. Even looking like a princess. And she blasted him before she could stop herself. “Yes. Date. The kind who asks for a dance. Holds me like I’m priceless piece of china. Kisses like a dream. And is presently fetching me a little libation.”
“‘Kiss’? You kissed someone?”
How dare he look outraged? He wasn’t her keeper. “Yes. I did,” she shot back, very satisfied with the look of surprise on his face at her heated response. “Dorky Lucy Harper landed herself a hottie. Hard as that might be for you to believe.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
But she wasn’t hearing him now. She was finally delivering the set-down she’d come here to deliver. Only never in a million years did she think she’d be delivering it to the one person who was her champion in high school, rather than the hordes who had been her enemies.
“No,” she spat. “Of course you didn’t. You only ridiculed me the entire way through this whole preparation thing. You’ve refused to listen to why this is so important to me, much less even try to understand.”
His surprised look faded. But she didn’t notice that it wasn’t remorse that filled his expression now. That it was, in fact, quite shuttered from exposing any expression at all. “Lucy, I’m—”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, Grady. But I did it. I came here tonight to find out something about myself, and I did. I held my own. Lucy Harper finally arrived.” So what if no one knew that was who she was? Or that she’d yet to actually talk to any of them? That was hardly the point. Besides, she was on a roll. “And to cap it off, I’ve managed to catch the eye of the one person I wanted to notice me. And let me tell you, he’s noticed me.”
Grady’s face might as well have been carved in stone at that point. “Prescott is your date?”
“He is,” Lucy crowed, only the announcement didn’t feel quite as victorious as she’d hoped. Probably because Grady wasn’t giving her the pleasure of looking appropriately chastened. In fact, he looked downright pissed. Fine, let him be pissed. “And he’s been a perfect gentleman. I know you don’t like what he did to me all those years ago. Neither do I. But people change. We were kids then.” And why in the world was she defending herself?
“So, I take it he’s apologized, then?”
The quietly asked question caught her badly off guard. Dammit. “I—uh—” Just then she spied Jason’s blond godliness towering over the clusters of people who had been steadily drifting up to the rooftop. “There he is,” she gushed, more relieved for the escape than anything else. Feeling a moment of remorse for how badly she’d treated her best friend, she looked back at him. “Listen, I do appreciate that you came all the way down here to protect me,” she told him with utmost sincerity.
His hard-as-granite façade didn’t crack. Not even a tiny fissure. She felt more sad than mad at this point. It was like they’d been traveling toward this moment ever since she’d decided to come to this dance. And now that it was here, she wished, almost desperately, that nothing had ever changed and everything was still the same between them. She wasn’t even exactly sure why it wasn’t. They didn’t always agree with everything the other one did, but this . . . this had been different. And she was at a loss to fully understand why.
All she knew was that from this moment on, it was likely that nothing would ever be the same between them again. And for that she was truly and sincerely sorry. But she wasn’t going back. Not that she could really, even if she wanted to.
She reached out, briefly touched his arm. “Maybe I don’t need rescuing anymore,” she told him softly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t need a friend.”
Grady glanced down at her hand on his arm, then back up at her as she let it fall away. He said nothing.
Lucy saw Jason weaving through the small clusters of people. She desperately wanted to end this before he arrived. This was hard enough without adding what would surely be a disastrous finale to the crumbling of a lifelong friendship. “I—I have to go,” she told him.
“I think you already have,” he said, then turned and walked away.
She watched him depart, his mop top and lanky height making him easy to spot as he wove through the crowd without so much as a pause. Lucy didn’t know if it was by accident or design, but for the narrow space involved, Grady had taken the only path clear to him that removed any chance he’d bump into Jason. Either way, for that final gesture, she was grateful.
It was only when he ducked inside and she was left to face the rest of her evening on her own again that she had a mad, almost overwhelming impulse to run after him. She’d beg his forgiveness, then plead with him to stick around in case things went south and she needed him. Which was so utterly selfish an impulse, it stopped her cold.
Had she always been so self-centered and needy where he was concerned? Honestly, she didn’t think so. At least, not any more than normal close friends were with one another. After all, everyone needed somebody they could be a complete bitch with. And she was luckier than most; she had two of them. But in all fairness, she’d been there for him, too. And for Jana. Okay, maybe not that much of late. But Jana was all wrapped up in her impending motherhood, about which Lucy was so clueless, she could hardly do anything more than listen as Jana went on and on about the trials and travails of interviewing the newest rookie drafted to the Wizards while trying to keep down her saltines and sour balls. The candy, not the drink.
And Grady . . . well, he was wrapped up in his work. Even more than usual. Sure, Lucy had blamed part of it on his distaste for what she was doing, but even after they’d made their peace treaty of sorts, he’d been absent even when he’d been with them. At least it had seemed that way to her. She’d even tried to talk to Jana about it, but inevitably any discussion with Jana ended up back on the pregnancy thing within two minutes. So Lucy had been left to decipher Grady’s random attentiveness on her own. And she’d come up with exactly nothing.
Okay, that and she’d been a little more preoccupied with her own chrysalis-to-butterfly date with destiny.
As Jason finally navigated the last group, having been waylaid several times by old friends and hangers-on, she made a solemn vow to herself—she’d soon be done with her self-centered fairy-tale story and once again become the devoted best friend to her buddies. She’d be the best friend-of-the-mom that Jana ever had; maybe she’d even read a few books or something so she could better understand what Jana was going through. And she’d force herself back into Grady’s good graces, no matter what it took.
Just as soon as she had her one memorable night. Even her best friends would wish her that much. Wouldn’t they?
She glanced up to find Jason still yards away, caught up in yet another conversation. She took the moment to smooth her hair and decide just how she should stand at the terrace railing. Poised with a come-hither smile? Or looking out over the Washington night scene, a self-assured woman confident that her man would return to her?
She opted for the latter. Not because she was confident. Or self-assured. But because she seriously needed to pick at a piece of the tape that was pinching the tender skin just below her faux cleavage. Moments passed. Tape was subtly picked at. More moments passed. No Jason.
She practiced flicking her hair over her shoulder, figuring she’d need that later when they were talking. Her stomach tightened up. Talking. What on earth were they going to talk about? She knew from the loop that Jason had been a promising pick by NBA scouts in college before a knee injury had ended his future. He’d gone on to law school and had recently made partner in a firm with offices in New York and D.C., specializing in the field of sports and entertainment. She was a third-grade teacher in the Virginia public school system. She definitely didn’t run with the same crowd of people.
Jana and Grady were her crowd. Their idea of hobnobbing
was trying to cook Thanksgiving dinner in her galley-size kitchen. Thank goodness it was Jana’s turn this year. Her spirits fell momentarily when she wondered if they’d even have a Thanksgiving together this year. Surely Jana would be feeling better by then. And she’d have gotten Grady over his funk.
They’d been having Thanksgiving together since Grady had relocated back home after college. His uncle had passed on by then. Jana’s mom wasn’t one for sentimentality and was usually off somewhere with her current paramour, preferably someplace balmy. Lucy’s folks always dedicated that day to a soup kitchen run by one of their college alumni foundations. So they’d adopted a round-robin system, taking turns doing the traditional dinner for the three of them and whomever else they wanted to invite. Of course Dave was a staple now, when he wasn’t on the road. They’d invited various strays over the years, but for the most part, it had just been the three of them. Her crowd.
She turned her thoughts to what she and Jason would talk about once he finally got back with her drink, which by now was probably warm. She slipped her shawl around her arms. The evening air had a bite to it now, so maybe warm wasn’t such a bad thing. Even better would be Jason’s arm around her shoulders. Or maybe he’d be a real gentleman and offer her his jacket. It would smell of his aftershave. Which meant it might rub off on her dress, then she could get a whiff of it and remember tonight forever. My God, she was seventeen all over again. Only worse. Because she was really twenty-eight.
Conversation starters, she thought, fighting to stay focused. All she needed was one or two, then she’d let him take over while she listened attentively, laughed at his stories, and inserted a clever comeback here and there so he could be impressed with her sharp mind and witty nature.
Unfortunately, his client list was on the sports side. Not a soap star or Broadway actor in sight. All her years of watching the Tonys and reading Soap Opera Digest would be wasted.
Finally abandoning her post, she turned to see where he was and found him still chatting. He looked up just then, and her heart caught. Just like in the movies, she thought. He was so in tune with her that he’d felt her gaze land upon him and had looked up, linking his gaze to hers with unerring precision. So yes, he’d known exactly where she was standing, it was right where he’d left her, after all, but still, it was romantic. Further proof her karma was finally kicking in.
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