CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

AMBER

I feel like Cinderella and my life is a fairy tale. At least a little bit of one.

Got to eat at Tavern On The Green, which reinforced my thinking that I was living in a fantasy. I was nervous at first, but not for long. Noah is easy to be around. Has a calming quality about him. Like being with a dear, close friend.

He gives me a kiss that I hope won’t end. I rest my head against his chest, enjoying his body close to mine.

“So. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yes, you will.”

He kisses my forehead and waits for me. “Good night.”

“Night.” I step inside my apartment and quickly close the door. Turn the locks. Lean against the wall. Negative thoughts bludgeon my self-esteem. I’m not good enough for Noah. Don’t have the proper upbringing. When it comes to money, my family doesn’t come anywhere near to what the Daltons have. And there are tons of women out there who are far better looking, so why did he choose me? Food for thought, but that can come later. For now, I need to sleep. Busy, busy tomorrow.

Setting my phone on the nightstand, I notice a missed text. I turned the ringer off before the big date. It’s the right thing to do.

I look at the message. Noah saying good night again.

How thoughtful.

I plug my phone in and crawl under the covers. Go to sleep thinking of him.

* * *

I’m rushing to get ready for work. Don’t want to be late.

The subway isn’t too bad; it’s cheap and gets me where I need to go. The station is only a block from the office. So, how perfect is that?

This morning, they have me busy working on a project for my boss. A brain twister that absorbs my full attention until lunch when Kathy taps my shoulder.

“Want to grab something to eat with us?” She motions to two other girls.

“I’d love to.” I situate things and grab my purse. “Ready.”

Kathy makes introductions as we head for the exit. Names are Julie and Lisa, and they’re both very nice.

Julie runs the front desk. I see her when I come through the front doors. She’s petite and sports a pixie haircut. Has on a pink print dress with matching belt.

Lisa works in the art department. She has a boho look and is wearing a long flowery skirt and designer T-shirt. Brown hair is pulled into a bun.

The conversation flows as we journey to the restaurant down the street.

“Where are you from?” Julie asks me.

“Chicago.”

“Why New York?” Lisa adds.

“Wanted to get away from home. My cousin lives here, and she thought I should come. We’re sharing a place.”

The other three are transplants as well. From various parts of the country.

“This is it,” Kathy says, referring to the eatery.

The restaurant’s bustling. Organized chaos. They have us in and out in no time. A pleasant experience. Food and conversation were excellent. Too bad it had to end so quickly.

“Enjoyed meeting you, girls,” I say after returning to the salt mine.

“Do it again tomorrow?” Kathy inquires.

“Sounds fun,” we all chorus and go our separate ways.

I ponder before getting back to my assignment. Lunch was a blast, and the girls made me feel at home. They asked if I was seeing anyone, and I said no. I’m not sure what this thing is between Noah and me. I don’t want to be advertising that I’m dating a Dalton and then have him dump me after his mother’s birthday party. How embarrassing would that be?

Throughout the rest of the day, my mind wanders back to this evening. What will I wear? How will people treat me? What if I forget how to eat?

When quitting time arrives, I scurry from the building so I don’t miss the train.

“Miss Amber!” Noah’s driver is flagging me like he’s a landing signal officer on an aircraft carrier.

I meander his way.

“I’m here to give you a ride,” he says.

“What?”

“Mr. Dalton sent me. I’m to bring you home and wait until you’re ready. Then we are to pick him up before going to his mother’s party.”

“Okay.”

He opens the back door, and I slide in. On the seat next to me are a garment bag from Nordstrom and a shoebox. Must be another present for his mother. How sweet. I stop myself from peeking. None of my business.

As we roll down the street, I continue to glance at the bag and box. The driver catches me in the rearview mirror. “I forgot to tell you, miss. Those are your things.”

Did somebody crank up the heat? “Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I gather myself. “That’s nice.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I refrain from ripping the bag open and tearing the box top off. Now that I know they’re mine, I’ll wait until I get home. Just in case I scream when I look inside.

The driver tells me he’ll be here when I come out. “No rush.”

I scamper to my apartment and go straight to my bedroom. Squeak when I open the bag, squeal when I take out the dress. A floral cross-stitch pointelle by Oscar de la Renta. OSCAR DE LA RENTA!

My legs grow weak, but I continue to stand. Still have to check out the shoes. I handle the box like an explosives expert and slowly crack the lid. My limbs give out, and I sit on the mattress edge, gasping. This is unbelievable. A pair of black So Eleonor Booties by Christian Louboutin. And they’re just my size. Oh, my goodness.

My phone dings and I let it go. Have to try out the boots. I slip them on and zip them up and pad around the room. My feet are singing. Wish my cousin could see them, but she’s staying at her boyfriend’s. Too bad.

I sit back on the bed and remove the boots. Check my phone. Noah left a text that he has some work to finish up: Meet you at the party. May or may not be late. Just don’t know yet.

Grrr. How aggravating. I’m not excited about going to his parents’ without knowing anyone. Have to rise up, I guess. Maybe he’ll be there in time. And maybe he won’t.

I go to put the lid back on the shoebox and am surprised by a silk bag with drawstrings at the bottom. Can’t believe I missed it when I took the boots out. Blame it on overwhelm.

In the bag is a glittering diamond bracelet with matching earrings. Incredible.

I fumble with the bracelet. Attaching it around my wrist is difficult with trembling hands. I examine it once it’s attached. Exquisite. I take the bracelet off and walk it and the earrings over to my dresser, setting them down. Head to the bathroom for some maintenance. I do a simple up-style with my hair because that’s my favorite look. Reapply some makeup. Not too much, though.

With that done, I waltz back to the bedroom and check the time. Where did it go?

I melt into the dress. It was specially made for me, I can tell. The comfort is unreal. I tug my boots on after that. May never take them off again. I’m certain I could sleep in them.

Put the bracelet back on. It goes smoother this time.

I replace the earrings I was wearing with the new ones. My lobes have never looked so sexy. Check the time again. It’s not standing still. Now, I’m going to be late. At least I’ll look good doing it.

The driver is leaning against the car with one ankle crossed over the other. “I am so sorry,” I tell him.

“That’s all right.” He straightens and opens the door. “You look very nice.”

“Thank you.” I beam and slide in.

He closes the door, hops in himself, and we’re on our way. I don’t stop looking at the bracelet until we reach our destination.

We’re at a fancy hotel. “I thought the party was at his parents’ house.” Why do I think that? Nobody ever told me where it was being held.

“No, ma’am.”

A valet opens my door.

The driver says, “Just go on inside, and somebody will point you in the right direction.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I step out of the car and begin my journey, hoping everything will work out.