Sweet but Sexy Boxed Set

by Maddie James

  Chapter Four

  “Your boyfriend seems…nice.” He dragged out the word.

  “Why do you say it like that?” Allison snapped. She gripped the ceramic mug, reveling in the warmth kissing her palms.

  The white lace kitchen curtain blocked a clear view of the back yard but did nothing to discourage the sun pouring through heating the room. The housed filled with the pleasant aromas of coffee, baked pastries and cooked breakfast meats. Her mother knew the way to anyone’s stomach.

  “No reason. He just seems a little pretty.” Adam shrugged. Pleased with his assessment, he took a drink from his own mug.

  “So he cares about his appearance. I actually like that in a man.”

  Her brother’s smile revealed nothing of his thoughts. “Looking nice and caring about your appearance is one thing. But filling the bathroom with four different kinds of hair product and facial stuff is another. I looked at one bottle and couldn’t even pronounce half the crap in it. And who wants to smell like tea tree oil?”

  “Nosey. Besides, what were you doing in his room?” Allison threw a wadded paper towel at her brother.

  “I needed to grab more towels from the closet. I couldn’t help but take in the beauty counter show.” He shoved a piece of cinnamon roll in his mouth before continuing. “So how’s the job and promotion?”

  Allison waved her hand at her brother. “Sshh.”

  “What?” He whispered.

  She glanced over his head, making sure no one stood outside the doorway. She leaned over her mug. “I didn’t get the promotion.”

  “But you told Mom and Dad you were getting promoted after some big presentation you came up with.”

  Allison sat back in her chair, pulling her hands to her lap. She picked at a rough piece of skin along the side of her finger as she mulled over her explanation. The advertising company she joined out of college sat on the tenth floor of a high rise on Michigan Avenue. She’d interned for the firm before she graduated, hoping her familiarity with the company guaranteed a fast track to promotions and an assistant to go along with her sparse office she landed only because some left the company. What she didn’t take into account during her quest for domination were the other executives waiting their turn.

  “It’s true, I came up with the final ad concept for this huge soft drink company, which I can’t tell you yet because paperwork still has to be signed. And I was all ready to move up. I even went out and bought a new pair of heels to celebrate. Little did I know that Bob Smith, another team member, had the same plan. Except he’d been there longer than me. Like five years longer.” She pulled herself forward and enjoyed a sip from her steaming mug. The smooth taste of vanilla creamer didn’t ease the lump forming in her throat when she thought about how foolish she felt during the staff meeting. “They pulled us all into a conference room and stated they had some big news. Not only did we land the account but someone was getting promoted.” Her fingers fidgeted with the handle on her mug, tapping along the curved ceramic. Her feet soon followed the same pattern thinking about what happened next. “I got really excited. I mean, to be acknowledged for my hard work and being only out of college for two years is huge.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I was standing in the back of the room because all the chairs had been taken. The president was going on and on about how they nailed the account due to the efforts of one person. How this one person shows drive and determination. How this one person stays late and comes in early. All traits I thought described me. As he’s speaking, I began to push my way to the front of the group. I get to the front with a final push next to the president and he says ‘I’m proud to announce Bob Smith is our new Account Executive’.”

  Adam’s jaw dropped adding to the churning in Allison’s stomach. The mixture of coffee and sausage bubbled, fighting to come back up as she relived the embarrassment.

  “What did you do?” Shock registered in the roundness of his eyes, as he held a fork full of eggs close to his mouth.

  She swallowed, pushing aside the burning. Heat flooded her cheeks again. Words escaped her.

  “She jumped in front of Bob and threw her arms around him followed by a “woo girl” scream.” George stood against the kitchen door frame. His normally golden blonde hair appeared a dishwater color from his recent shower. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a blue oxford button up. In socks, he padded over to the coffee pot and poured a steaming cup. “I’ve got to hand it to your sister. She’s quick on her toes. Bob had no idea what hit him…literally. But like any hot blooded guy, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.”

  “Yeah, it was kind of creepy. I mean, he’s like dad’s age. Or maybe not that old but older.”

  “You had no problem with that?” Adam asked. His fork, which had been frozen as Allison relayed her story, continued its forward motion. Instead of staring at his sister, he bore holes in George leaning casually against the counter.

  “With what? Your sister getting a promotion?” Allison watched George hold his mug in both hands. He blew across the black liquid inside. She wanted to tell him to stop and that guys, the ones she knew, didn’t hold their cups of coffee like an archeologist holds the Holy Grail.

  “No the hug.”

  Blue eyes and blonde hair whipped her way. Unfortunately, she had nothing to offer. They hadn’t laid down any specifics of their day old relationship.

  “What could I do? She’s got a mind of her own. Besides, we haven’t told our co-workers yet. Office politics and all.” He waved a hand in the air like he was shooing flies. “Enough work stuff.” George pushed away from the counter, sauntered over to the table and pulled a chair close to Allison before he sat down. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “I have to try on my bride’s maid dress.”

  “Me and some of the guys are hitting the driving range, playing a round of golf and then I think we’re coming back here to shoot hoops and chill.”

  Allison jumped to the edge of her chair, clapping her hands. “Great. George can tag along with you guys and I’ll meet you all back here later.”

  “But…dear…um,” George stuttered.

  “No this will be great. Yeah,” she stretched her arms above her head and wiggled her fingers. “I love it when a plan comes together.”

  “Um, sure I guess that’ll work. Do you have clubs?” Adam asked pulling out his phone. His fingers tapped around before he stopped and looked up with his eyebrows raised.

  “Clubs?”

  “He means golf and no. You’ll have to rent some.”

  “I don’t play…golf,” George added. A look of fright spread across his face. “I can just come with you, Allison, honey.”

  “To the dress shop?” Adam asked. His nose scrunched up like he smelled something bad.

  “What? No.” Allison swatted the hand that crept along her arm. “That’s silly.”

  “But what if,” George pulled in close to her side, “ya know, we wanna have a few moments…alone.” He waggled his eyebrows at Adam.

  “Gross, dude. That’s my sister. And my future wife will be there. Along with my mother. No, you’ll come with us. You can just ride along if you don’t want to play.” Adam’s phone dinged in his hand. “Great. Ryan was able to get us one more person added to our tee time.”

  “Ryan.” Allison’s voice rose when she said his name. She sat straighter in her chair.

  “Yeah. Ryan’s going. Actually, it was his idea.”

  “Oh, yeah right. Psh. I knew that.” She slumped back in her chair acting as if nothing surprised her. “Okay, so, George, you’ll need to change and I need a shower. Adam, I guess I’ll see you later.”

  Allison jumped from her seat, grabbed George’s hand and pulled him with her. Half way up the stairs, he tugged on her arm until she stopped. He leaned in close and whispered, “What do I wear to play golf? I’ve never even accidentally watched a match on TV.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know but let’s take a look.
I’m sure we can find something. And besides, I’m pretty sure they play rounds of golf, not matches. I think they play matches in tennis.”

  “Ooo, I know how to play tennis.”

  Allison stared at George for a second before they continued their trip upstairs. Some of the things that came out of his mouth surprised her.

  Once inside Audrey’s old bedroom, Allison gasped. Clothes and towels lay across every surface in the room. “What the heck George? We’ve only been here one night and you’ve managed to destroy this entire room.” She pushed the door closed.

  George threw himself atop a stack of clothes on the bed. He buried his face and moaned. “What are you doing to me? I’m all nice and pretend to get into your pants and you repay me by making me play…golf with your brother and high school crush.”

  “I’m sorry but you’d have no fun with my sister and mom. Besides, it’s not normal for a girl’s boyfriend to come along dress shopping unless they’re like getting married or have kids or something. And how do you know Ryan’s my high school crush?”

  “I didn’t but I guessed by the way your face flames red at the mention of his name. If I were man enough, I might take offense.”

  “I’m sorry, George. I didn’t mean…”

  “Whatever. You owe me. Like huge.” He rolled onto his back, pierced her with his blue eyes. “All right, let’s find me something cute to wear.”

  Chapter Five

  The Bride’s House sat on the corner of Locust and Olive in downtown St. Louis. A drive Allison’s mother said she didn’t want to make but since that’s where the bridesmaid’s dresses were located, as well as the bride’s gown, she had no choice. Allison wasn’t given a choice either when her mother handed over the keys to her older model silver Toyota Corolla. She and her sister Audrey were both in the wedding. Not only did she have to drive her mother but she was also forced to listen to her sister yammer on and on about women at her church. Bless her mom, though. She nodded along the entire thirty-minute trip as if she knew the women her sister spoke of in her stories.

  The bridal shop exterior boasted an old world charm most of the historic buildings in downtown held. Faded red brick façade, arched white trimmed windows and scrolled artwork carved into the front of the building. A large black and white metal sign hung vertically from the front of the building. Sun blocking film covered windows showed dim displays of the latest fashions in bridal gowns. The reflective shine bounced back distorted images of Allison, her mother and sister as they approached the front door. Inside, the main show floor was small with racks and racks of gowns in various shades of white, pearl, blush and off-white. Each dress hung waiting for an excited bride to rip through, discovering “the one.”

  As soon as they entered the building, Allison and her sister took a number from the front desk attendant. Sarah, her brother’s fiancée, stood off to the side with a small group of friends and family waiting their turn to see a seamstress. Women dressed in white uniforms hustled around with arms full of white. Tulle, taffeta, silk and satin billowed from their hold as they stuffed them past a curtain to a bride waiting in a dressing room. Girls in contrasting pink uniforms walked from each customer offering water. The temperature in the small showroom warmed Allison’s cheeks from the brisk fall air outside.

  Milling from group to group were two elderly women. Both were no taller than four feet and both wore black and gold embellished tracksuits. Their identical white blonde locks, teased to a perfect bouffant and then hair sprayed to death bobbed atop their heads. Allison recognized the women from their photos hanging around the entrance of the dress shop. The pictures showcased a variety of years with the sisters wearing coordinating outfits. The one constant was their smile and love of hair products.

  “Hello dears,” the first sister said to Allison and her mother.

  “How’s our blushing bride this chilly morning,” the other sister said, coming up beside her twin. Her voice, deep and raspy from years of smoking, she assumed. Allison pictured a long dark cigarette hanging between her fingers.

  Allison’s mother placed a hand on her daughter’s arm. “Oh no. Not this one.” She leaned in close to the sisters. “She’s a career woman. Although, my fingers are still crossed.”

  Allison’s face heated while the three women laughed.

  “Oh honey. You need to snag a man when you still got it. You’re not getting any younger.” The first sister said before walking on to the next unsuspecting bridal party. Allison hoped the woman’s comment was meant as a lighthearted gesture. But she couldn’t help bringing a tentative hand to her face and giving a feel along her temple to jaw line in search of wrinkles or laugh line grooves.

  “I’ve got a man,” she told their retreating figures. They didn’t need to know the details of her relationship.

  Now perfect strangers thought she needed to get a man. She wondered if she wore a pin on her shirt with a picture of her and George together, if women would leave her alone. The only other male in her life in Chicago was her cat but wearing his face on her clothing would make matters worse.

  She highly doubted.

  Allison removed herself from her mother’s side and wandered over next to Sarah. Her long brown hair rested along her shoulders. A light flush filled her face and Allison knew her coloring wasn’t from the cold but from love. She fit the part of a blushing bride.

  “Oh Allison. I’m so glad you were able to do this for us.” Sarah engulfed her future sister-in-law into a hug.

  “Me, too,” she said into her shoulder.

  “I met George last night. He seems…nice.” She offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You met at work?”

  “Yes, but we haven’t told anybody there. We aren’t sure about office policy.” The girls nodded at each other. Allison noticed the unsure tone in Sarah’s voice, much like her brother’s earlier that morning. “So. Ryan Johnson’s in the wedding. Man, I haven’t seen him since before I left for college.” The night before she left for school stuck with her all four years of school. Heat filled her face again. Damn it. George was right again.

  “Yeah. I almost forgot. You two are walking together. I hope that’s okay.”

  Allison’s jaw dropped, causing Sarah to step back. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. Um. I. Nothing.” Her shoulders sagged as she tried to play off her surprise. She’d be walking with Ryan Johnson.

  Once their numbers were called, Sarah’s wedding party and friends filed into a waiting elevator, four at a time. Allison placed a palm against the interior of the box. From what she could tell, it appeared to be the original elevator and the older gentleman sitting on a stool inside could have also been an original staff member responsible for toting blushing brides up and down to their fittings.

  Safe and secure on the third floor, Allison gave her name to a staff member who rushed off to retrieve her dress. When she returned with dress in tow, she then ushered Allison into a curtained dressing room, leaving her to her own devices.

  Allison removed her clothing and pulled the bridesmaid dress from the black garment bag. Peach fabric billowed onto the floor causing Allison to almost gag. Ugh, she thought. With her busy schedule, she hadn’t taken the time to look the dress up on line before she called in her measurements. Her workload was packed enough, but trying to find time to locate a dress shop to do free measurements in Chicago proved timely. One day, instead of eating lunch, she spent her time running from one end of downtown to the next and back, barely returning before her hour lunch break was over.

  She slid the strapless silk and tulle dress up over her average size breasts. The fabric scratched against her bare skin. She wanted to remove the article of clothing and burn it in the nearest fireplace. She couldn’t help but notice the dress reminded her of a gown she used to dress her Barbie in as a child. Missing were the pleather rainbow colored halter style top and plastic necklace.

  Running a hand along the sides of her waist, she imagined Ryan’s gentle hands on her. Hol
ding her close as they shared a dance. Wasn’t it customary for the bridal party to dance together?

  “Hurry Allison. I want to make sure this blue hair clip matches the dress,” her mother called through the curtain.

  Allison’s jaw dropped. She stared at the peach fabric. Heavy weights pushed down on her shoulders.

  Blue.

  The brass curtain holders rattled along the rod when she flung open the fabric. With the dress on, she emerged from the fitting room to the central area where other wedding party members and her mother waited.

  Except she didn’t make it the entire way to the waiting area before a unanimous gasp sounded from everyone.

  “Allison. What are you wearing?” Her mother asked, jumping from the seat and moving toward her. Fire crawled across her skin along with her hands, scratching at the itchy fabric.

  All the other bridesmaids wore navy blue.

  Strapless.

  Short and silk with silver kitten heels.

  She’d ordered the wrong dress. The wrong dress for her brother’s wedding. Her favorite person in the entire world and she was about to ruin his day.

  “Oh Allison. What did you do?” Her mother’s faced matched hers. She stood before her, staring with wide shocked eyes.

  “Crap,” she hissed. “I guess they gave me the wrong dress.” Allison looked over her shoulder at the woman who placed her into a fitting room.

  Instead of the original seamstress, a new woman dressed in a black suit stepped into Allison’s view. Her black hair pulled tight from her scalp into a small bun at the back of her head. A white name tag with Mable rested below her left shoulder. Her chocolate skin drowned beneath the dark color of her suit. With a fisted palm pushed against a popped hip, she looked at Allison and said, “Excuse me?”

  “You gave me the wrong dress.”

  “Hello Ms. Allison. I’ve pulled your paperwork and it appears as if you are wearing the dress you ordered.”

  “What? But I didn’t order a peach dress.”