Guilt flooded Casey when she thought about Mia’s transition. The girl already had difficulty trusting, and Casey wondered if “Casey Thomas” would go on the list of people who had abandoned her. If only Casey’s hormones didn’t do a dance of joy every time Blake Decker walked into a room. That reaction showed no signs of letting up and the consequences of allowing the situation to continue could be bad.
No, leaving was the best thing for all of them.
“I’ll look for a replacement,” Ginger was saying. “But I don’t know how long that will take. And I’d really rather not leave Blake in the lurch, without someone to supervise Mia.”
“I understand,” Casey said.
“So you’re okay with hanging in there until I can replace you?”
“Yes.”
Casey was surprised how okay she was with postponing her resignation. For one thing it would put off abandoning Mia and the guilt associated with doing that. She was carrying around enough guilt already and wasn’t anxious to add to it.
It would also put off the moment when she had to say goodbye to Blake. The thought of not seeing him, not challenging him and, God help her, not kissing him filled her with a bleak, black sadness.
Had she always been this spineless? One minute convincing herself to leave and the next relieved she didn’t have to?
Suddenly she could see the appeal of hiding in a cave.
Chapter Ten
“Uncle Blake said the party is really formal. Like the Academy Awards.” Mia was quivering with excitement as she looked in the window of a dress shop displaying ball gowns.
“Yes, he did.”
Casey smiled because this was the same mall where little Miss Decker had been caught shoplifting makeup, and that hostile, belligerent, abrasive and unpredictable girl was gone. Or at least taking a break. It made her, Casey, glad she’d agreed to suspend her age-limit rule. If she’d had even a small part in this change for the better, that made her proud.
It also didn’t escape her notice that Ginger Davis lived just across the street, and Casey’s most recent visit with her boss had been equally as traumatic as that first one with the Deckers, but for a completely different reason. When Ginger found her replacement, it wouldn’t be easy to leave Mia.
And Blake.
That was exactly why she needed to get out as soon as possible. In the meantime Mia needed a dress and the nanny needed to provide guidance.
“Your grandparents’ anniversary celebration is going to be in a banquet room at the Bellagio hotel.”
Mia’s eyes grew even bigger. “There’s gambling at that hotel.”
“Not where you’ll be. All kinds of rules are in place to make sure of that.”
“I know. But maybe I can peek.” Her voice was a mixture of whiny and wistful as she stared into the display window. “With just the right dress, maybe they’d think I’m twenty-one.”
Casey put her arm around the girl and eased her out of the flow of mall foot traffic. “Those look kind of grown-up for you.”
“I don’t want a baby dress.”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting.”
“So I can get a strapless?” Hope gleamed in Mia’s eyes.
“First you need something to hold it up.” Casey glanced at the twelve-year-old’s almost flat chest.
“I’ve got something. In fact, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about a bra.”
It was on the tip of Casey’s tongue to say she didn’t need one yet, and especially not for a strapless dress. Two things stopped her. Mia looked completely intense and sincere. Casey knew from her own experience that teasing could be painful. When she’d gone through puberty and her body changed, there’d been no one to guide her. Her older brothers had made fun of her and her dad hadn’t had a clue about girls. She’d muddled through on her own. Starting her period. Dealing with excess hormones and mood swings. Growing breasts.
She remembered the shock on Blake’s face when he’d seen the ugly healed wounds. Now her woman’s body was scarred because an emotional tug for a kid had grown into seriously misplaced trust and then he’d used her for his violent ends. For the rest of her life, her body would bear the marks, and her heart the pain.
But for now her duty was to this girl. “We’ll look for bras. There’s a lingerie store here in Fashion Show Mall that advertises an expert in fitting.”
“Really?” Mia asked, clearly surprised her request was being taken seriously.
“Really,” Casey assured her. “You’re twelve. Of course you need bras.”
Mia grinned and started to clap her hands like a child, then stopped and looked around to make sure no one had seen her coolness factor slip.
“Wow, that was easier than I thought. Maybe now would be the time to say I’d also like a dress from this store.” There was a longing expression on her face when she stared in the window.
“Let’s go in and look. Maybe they’ve got something. But I have the final say. It’s got to be age appropriate.”
“For, say, a sixteen-year-old?”
“Don’t push your luck, kid.”
“But, Casey—”
“Have I ever told you that persistence is your least attractive characteristic?”
Mia laughed and slid her arm through Casey’s, tugging her body forward and at the same time tugging on her heart. Casey’s instinct was to pull back, but this child so rarely acted like a child—a normal, happy, carefree child. No way she’d do anything to stop that.
They walked inside and looked around at the dresses on display and the racks filled with fancy evening gowns. A very pretty saleswoman somewhere in her early twenties approached. Her layered brown hair teased her shoulders, and warm brown eyes welcomed them. “Hi. My name is Ava. Is this your first visit to Special Occasions?”
“Yes,” Casey said. “Mia is going to her grandparents’ anniversary party and needs a dress.”
“Is it a formal event?”
“Very,” Mia said. “But I don’t want to look too—”
“Old,” Casey interjected. “She’s twelve going on twenty-five.”
Ava studied the girl. “I have quite a few dresses that I think will work for your daughter.”
“Oh, she’s—”
Mia loudly cleared her throat. There was a gleam in her eyes that was all about teasing mischief. “She’s such a mom. If a dress doesn’t have a mile-wide skirt and pink ribbons, she thinks it’s too old for me.”
“And my daughter is trying to grow up too fast.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard this?” Ava smiled, then winked. “Trust me, Mia. I’ll find something for you that both you and your mom will absolutely adore.” The saleswoman studied Casey, then said, “I’ve got some fabulous dresses for you, too, Mom.”
It took Casey a couple of beats to realize Ava meant her. “Oh, I don’t need anything. I’m not—”
“Mom, you have to try on something. It will be a lot more fun if you do,” Mia insisted.
Casey knew Mia meant attending the party, but debating in front of a stranger wasn’t something she was prepared to do. “We’re here for you, Mia. And I’m not much of a girlie girl.”
“I can help you with that,” Mia offered.
“My job is to help you both. And you’ve come to the right place,” Ava said. “This is a full-service boutique—shoes, bags, makeup. We don’t have a hair salon, but I can point you in the right direction.”
“But I don’t really need the full treatment,” Casey said.
Ava held up a hand. “I find dresses. You try them on. If not one of them is something you absolutely must have, if they’re not age appropriate, it will not hurt my feelings if you leave empty-handed. You have absolutely nothing to lose.”
Casey looked at Mia, who had eagerness written all over her. “Okay, then.”
It had started out as a way to make Mia feel more comfortable and escalated from there. Casey zipped and fastened dresses for the girl. They agreed that if
the material and strings on a hanger needed a schematic to figure out which parts covered boobs and butt, it had to go on the reject pile.
When Mia tried on something she proclaimed a “Little Bo Peep on steroids” number, they laughed until tears streamed down their faces. Then she tried on a simple, light green, high-necked sleeveless dress that stopped at mid-calf. The color was perfect with her skin and eyes.
Casey stared and caught her breath, but she needed to tread carefully. “So, what do you think?”
“It’s not horrible,” Mia said cautiously.
“I agree.”
“Do you think it’s dressy enough?” the girl worried.
“The satin material makes it dramatic and elegant, I think.”
Mia nodded as she stood on the round step in front of the full-length mirror and studied herself. “Does it make me look like I’m twelve?”
Casey sat in the chair and tapped a finger against her lips. “Better than that, it makes you look beautiful.”
“Really?” Mia’s eyes shone with pleasure. “You’re not just saying that?”
“When have I ever said something just to make you feel better?” Casey said wryly.
“Good point.” Mia looked back at her reflection. “But my hair—”
Casey stood and joined her on the raised area. She gathered the thick curls in her hand and piled the hair on Mia’s head. “What if you have a French braid? Or do it up somehow?”
“At a salon?” Mia asked, incredulous. “That might cost a lot.”
“As opposed to this dress, which is free?”
“Right.”
“Look, kiddo, one of the first conversations I had with your uncle was about getting you whatever you need. And I think you need this dress and a visit to a salon. I’ve got the credit card, and frankly, this is a charge-worthy occasion.”
“Shoes, too?”
“Absolutely.” Impulsively the girl threw her arms around Casey and hugged her. Tears burned as Casey brushed a hand over Mia’s thin back. “You’re welcome.”
“Now it’s your turn,” Mia reminded her. “There’s one more dress in your fitting room. The royal blue one.”
“I don’t think it’s worth the energy. Doesn’t look like much on the hanger.”
“But at least we know which side is front and which is back.”
“That’s because there is no back,” Casey said.
“You don’t have to buy it,” Mia reminded her.
Finally Casey gave in, went to her fitting room and slid into the gown. The color was perfect for her eyes, and the high neck hid the scars, but the shimmery material clung to her hips and breasts, making her feel incredibly feminine and sexy.
“Come out and let me see,” Mia begged through the door.
“Okay.”
Mia gasped when the door was opened. “You look gorgeous.”
Ava walked over just then and agreed. “It’s like someone made that for you. And I’m not just saying that to make a sale.”
If the criterion was that she had to have it, this was the one. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right to spend…” She remembered the ruse. “To spend your father’s money on something this expensive.”
“He said whatever I need,” Mia reminded her.
“Your husband won’t be able to take his eyes off you,” Ava said.
Casey was never quite sure if that was what made up her mind or not, but she was going to the party in this dress. And she took Blake’s credit card for quite a spin at Special Occasions. Makeup, silver sandals for both of them and evening bags added up fast. To ease the guilt, she promised herself that she’d pay Blake back. He could deduct some from her paycheck, although that would mean being in his employ for a good portion of the rest of her life.
As they left the store, she remembered what Ava had said. You have absolutely nothing to lose. And she realized the reality was that she had everything to lose. She was getting emotionally sucked in—by Mia and her uncle. And she couldn’t even say for sure which one of them was the most dangerous.
In the banquet room at the Bellagio hotel his parents’ party was winding down. Toasts had been made after dinner and now only hard-core partyers were left, small groups standing around chatting. Blake excused himself from several couples, longtime friends of his parents who seemed determined to bring up every stupid and humiliating incident of his youth. This was Lincoln and Patricia’s anniversary celebration, not a Blake Decker roast. But he was taking the heat.
And speaking of heat…
In the subdued light of a chandelier on the other side of the room, he spotted Casey. He’d recognize her sexy back anywhere. When he’d first seen her and Mia with hair and makeup done and wearing formal dresses, he’d been in awe. He’d flat out said how lucky and proud he was to be escorting two such beautiful ladies.
Then Casey had turned, giving him an unrestricted view of her naked back—after which he’d been in serious danger of swallowing his tongue. The front of that dress said “sweet” and the other view was all about sin.
How weird was it that he was thinking about kissing every square inch of Casey’s back, from the nape of her neck to the spot where her dress stopped, just above her butt? It probably wasn’t completely weird, since he was a guy who seriously lacked a social life these days. Having these thoughts while Casey was talking to his mother was what bordered on weird. And then he realized that his mother was looking fairly intense about something, which cleared his mind of everything but the need to rescue Casey.
He made his way through the maze of white cloth-covered tables being cleared of dessert plates and after-dinner coffee cups. On some only the flower arrangements remained. Untouched flutes of Dom Pérignon for the earlier anniversary toast sat on a tray, and he grabbed up three when he walked by.
As he approached the two women, he heard his mother say, “I’m only thinking of you. There are no words to describe my gratitude to you for all you’ve done. This is a chance to know my daughter’s daughter and I thank you for that.”
“Hello, ladies.” Blake’s senses went on full alert with just a hint of scent from Casey’s skin. “Champagne?”
“Thanks.” Casey relieved him of one glass. It was a challenge not to stare at the way her royal blue dress clung to her firm breasts and the curves of her hips.
“I believe I will, too,” his mother answered, looking just the tiniest bit guilty and uncomfortable. She was wearing a long-sleeved, floor-length black lace dress. Very elegant.
He raised his own glass. “In a less public way, let me say again, happy anniversary, Mother.”
“Thank you, dear. Your toast earlier was lovely. As was your father’s.”
“So you’re over being mad at Dad?”
“Not completely.” Patricia sighed. “We’ve done more talking in the last few weeks than in the last forty years.”
“Aren’t you exaggerating?”
“Only a little. The bottom line is that he was wrong.”
“But his heart was in the right place,” Casey said. “He was trying to spare you more pain.”
Patricia’s gaze scanned the room and settled on a group of young girls and boys by the door. Mia seemed to be making friends with them. “She looks lovely with her hair done in that simple high ponytail. How did you manage to get her out of those scruffy jeans?”
“Two burly men and a muscle relaxer,” Blake teased, meeting Casey’s amused gaze. “Actually, that’s a question for her nanny.”
“Never underestimate the miracles wrought by the judicious use of a credit card,” Casey said. “We found a great store and a fairy godmother, otherwise known as Ava, who made Mia over. I figured a little bit of makeup for this auspicious evening couldn’t hurt.”
Patricia nodded, a wistful sort of sadness in her eyes. “I’ve often wondered if we’d been more willing to bend with April, maybe she would have reached out for help.”
“You loved your daughter and did what you thought best,” Casey told
her. “The only thing regrets accomplish is making you feel bad. It’s a waste of energy that could be more productively channeled into your granddaughter.”
“Very wise words for one so young, Casey.” Patricia drank the rest of her champagne. “I’ll do just that. Starting tonight. Mia is spending the night with us. She agreed to come home with Lincoln and me after the party.”
“Really?” Blake glanced at Casey, who looked as surprised as he felt. “Did this miracle include the judicious use of a credit card?”
“No.” His mother laughed. “I guess I caught her at a weak moment. Laura Parsons’s granddaughter mentioned she was spending the night with her grandparents and I asked Mia if she’d like to do the same. Either she didn’t want to turn me down at my party or she wanted to fit in with new acquaintances. Whatever the reason, I’ll take it.”
“Stroke of genius, Mother.” Call him a selfish bastard, but he couldn’t suppress the thought that he’d be alone with Casey. “And on the progress front, she’s not calling you a dork anymore. At least not to your face.”
“Woo hoo,” Patricia answered.
Casey was just sipping champagne, and the unexpected comment made her laugh, then choke. He patted her bare back, wanting to help. Really. But the feel of her flesh beneath his fingers sent a burst of heat through him.
“Are you all right?” Patricia asked.
“Fine.” Casey coughed again. “But next time I’d appreciate a warning when you plan to say something funny. Just a heads-up along the lines of ‘Don’t drink’ before you cut loose.”
“I would have if I had any idea I was funny.” Patricia grinned at her. “You just made my evening. And now I think I’ll begin what I hope will be a long and illustrious precedent of spoiling my granddaughter.”
“Go, Patricia,” Casey encouraged.
When they were alone, Blake looked down at her, trying not to be turned on by the way her hair was fluffed, as if a man had run his fingers through it during sex. “You’re awfully chummy with my mother.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“Since she’s not the ‘get chummy’ type, I guess it does,” he admitted. “She can be formidable. Distant.”
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