Just This Once (28 page)

“But Emery,” she wailed. “I spent—I hate to tell you what I
spent. $1,800, just on the
dress!
And shoes, and a bag, and . . . and
I’m still supposed to buy chandelier earrings, whatever those are. How can I
spend that kind of money?”

Emery was unimpressed. “You know you have it, you little
tightwad. So you aren’t adding to the House Fund this month. But first, didn’t
you tell me you were wearing a lot of those 2
^nd
Hemisphere pieces
now? So how much have you spent on clothes since you got there? Nothing, I’ll
bet.
Maybe
underwear. And I’m just going to throw out a wild guess here,
and assume that your travel and entertainment budget is a whole lot less these days.
And maybe your grocery bill, too?” he asked slyly.

She had to laugh and agree. “It’s true, Drew isn’t exactly a
21
^st
-century guy when it comes to sharing the expenses. And you just
keep your nasty mind off my underwear. But still . . . isn’t it a little wrong
to spend that much on clothes?”

“Yes, if you’re a shopaholic. But nobody, in their wildest
dreams,
would ever call you that, girlfriend. Live a little. Take a walk on the wild
side. The red dress side,” Emery teased.

“How do you know what color my dress is?” she asked
suspiciously.

“Hmmm . . . Edward
may
have sent me a picture,” Emery
admitted. “Perfect choice, sweetie. And he’s right. Chandelier earrings, no
necklace. Very simple. Nice updo, on your hair.”

“OK, but what
kind
of an updo?” she asked, worried.
“And I don’t care what you say, I can’t afford to make a big jewelry purchase,
especially now.”

“Take yourself to one of those replica stores. Tell them
chandelier earrings, silver, not gold. Dangly, you know. They’ll help you. Then
just pick something you think is pretty. I’ll say this for you, you might be
too conservative, but you do have good taste. Zip me pictures of yourself in
some of them, if you want, and I’ll help you choose.”

“And as for the hair,” he went on, “you go to your stylist, tell
her about the event, show her a picture of the dress. Which I will e-mail to
you. And make an appointment for her to come to your apartment before the gala
and make you beautiful. Hair, makeup, brows, lashes, fingernails, toenails.”

“Come here?” she faltered. “How does that work? Don’t I need
to go in there, that afternoon?”

“Trust me. And before you ask, yes, you’ll pay for it. And
it’ll be worth it. Just do it, this one time. Trust Auntie Em. You know I’m
right.”

Hannah laughed. “Well, you haven’t steered me wrong yet. I
guess I’ll have to take your advice. It’d better be worth it, though.
Otherwise, I’m wearing jeans and T-shirts every day from now on. I’ll have to
anyway, once I’ve spent my entire annual clothing budget on this one night.”

The weekend before the gala, Drew took her back to the bach
on the Coromandel for a three-day break from the city. The Super 15 season had
ended with the Blues losing in the final to the Stormers, a South African team.
It had been a closely fought game, and she knew Drew and his teammates had been
bitterly disappointed not to have brought the trophy home to New Zealand.

When she asked him about it, though, he shrugged. “Losing’s
part of the game. Win or lose, you can’t take it too seriously. Life goes on.
When you lose, you pull up your socks and get on with it. Think ahead to the
next game. The next season.”

She knew he needed a break in any case. The toll the game
took on the players’ bodies was appalling. Injuries were a constant problem.
Drew had told her that the rules were stricter these days about playing
injured, particularly with concussions. She wondered, though, just how bad it
had been before. She had seen his battered body after the games, with its huge
bruises, scrapes, and wrenched joints, and wondered that he could recover
quickly enough to play the following week. Some of the players, she knew,
limped onto the field with injuries that would have had the normal person
bedridden, let alone throwing themselves into combat with a group of 225-pound men
bent on destroying them, wearing not so much as a helmet.

 Now he would have a couple weeks to rest before the All
Blacks season began. Training would continue, but at least his body could take
a break from the fearful beating it received, week in and week out. And he
would get an occasional respite from the pressures of the captaincy during this
brief period. As captain of both teams, he was involved in much more than just
game strategy, she was beginning to understand, and she knew the responsibility
weighed on him heavily.

Today, though, none of those pressures intruded. Drew had
spent the morning fishing, while she had taken herself out for a solitary
winter hike on one of the longer coastal tracks. It had rained, but she was
prepared by now, and had merely hauled out her rain jacket and pants and pulled
them on, continuing her walk and enjoying being outside and looking at the
ocean. She had been glad to have the time alone to let her mind wander after a
somewhat contentious week at work. And although Drew had invited her to join
him, she thought he had needed some quiet time too, and had been just as glad
to go out by himself.

It certainly seemed to have done him good, she thought now.
They had had a quiet dinner together, and now relaxed by the fireplace in the
cozy lounge, each lying at one end of the long leather sofa, their legs and
feet entwined, reading and chatting. She sipped a glass of wine and snuggled
more comfortably into the cushion behind her, rubbing her stockinged foot
against Drew’s thigh and enjoying the feel of his powerful legs next to hers.

He smiled across at her. “Good to know you’re comfortable,”
he joked. “Meant to ask you. Did you get yourself sorted for that do next
weekend?”

“A dress, and all,” he explained when she looked at him in
confusion.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, thinking wryly about the time
and effort it had taken her to ‘get sorted.’ Easy for you to say, she thought.

“Because I was having a chat with Reka the other day,” he went
on. “And she says I was thick, asking you to that kind of thing without
thinking about your dress. She says you won’t have had anything like that, and
it will’ve cost you. I didn’t think about that. I can help, if you’re strapped
for cash.”

“No,” she replied firmly. “No, I bought a dress, and it’s
fine. No need to worry about me.”

“Sure?” he pressed. “You know I’ll see you right.”

“I wouldn’t have accepted if I hadn’t been able to buy
myself a dress, Drew,” she answered, a little stiffly. “And I wouldn’t buy
anything I couldn’t afford.” Barely, she thought, but he didn’t need to know
that. “I don’t want your money. We’ve had this conversation already. You pay
for so much as it is. You never let me do anything to pay my own way.”

“And we’ve had
this
conversation too,” he responded
grimly. “I don’t want you to ‘pay your own way,’ Hannah. “If I take you out,
I’ll take care of you.”

“And if I go out with you, I’ll at least get myself ready,
by myself. You can’t buy my clothes. It would make me feel like a . . . like
some kind of gold-digger,” she finished defiantly. “Like I’m looking for a
sugar daddy. That’s not me.”

“No worries,” he grumbled. “I’m in no doubt of that.” But he
dropped the subject, to her relief.

Despite the shock to her system as she had paid her VISA
bill that month, Hannah thought on the evening of the gala that it just might
have been worth it after all. She was standing in front of the full-length
mirror of the wardrobe in her bedroom, checking her appearance. The stylist and
her assistant had come and gone. Hannah’s fingernails and toenails now shone
with a nude polish (“We’ll keep it subtle,” Amy had said firmly. “That dress
gives you all the flash you need”), her brows were perfectly shaped and tinted,
and her makeup elegant but not overstated, to her immense relief. Her eyes
looked greener, her skin flawless, and the bow of her top lip was accented. She
looked like herself, only better, she thought happily. 

Amy had done her hair last. Hannah had never had her hair
specially styled for an event before. She had worried about being left with a
turban of hair, or a teased, curled construction that looked like it belonged
on a B-list actress falling out of a hot pink dress. Instead, her hair was
pulled softly back into a simple, somewhat messy knot, which somehow managed to
look much better than when she did the same thing herself. A few tendrils
around her face softened the effect, while not detracting from the gown’s
beautiful neckline.

She looked, in fact, better than she ever had in her life.
If she were stepping onto the red carpet, at least she was going in style. She
wouldn’t disgrace Drew, and unless she fell over in the unfamiliarly high
heels, she wouldn’t disgrace herself, either.

When the doorbell rang, she took a deep breath, checked
herself in the mirror one last time, and opened the door. That was one
seriously attractive man, she thought, eyeing Drew with enjoyment. The suit—black,
of course—suited his dark looks, and the perfectly tailored garments emphasized
his athletic physique.

“You look wonderful,” she told him. “Very distinguished. I
didn’t know you cleaned up quite so well. Everyone’s going to envy me, that’s
for sure.”

He wasn’t paying much attention, she realized. Instead, he
stood still, just looking at her. She stood back and smiled.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Good?”

“I’m a bit stunned, that’s all. Didn’t expect it to be red.”

“It’s beautiful,” he hastened to add, seeing her crestfallen
look. “I’m making a hash of it. Let me try again. You look gorgeous. I’m not
sure I want to take you out for all my mates to have a look at, is all.”

“You’d better,” she laughed with relief. “You have no idea
how much effort all this took. I’m awfully glad you like it, though.”

“There’s only one thing I don’t like about it.” She looked
up at him, startled, as he continued. “It’s the earrings.”

Her hands flew to her ears. “Oh, no. I sent Emery a picture
before I bought them, and he said they were just right. I’d better find some
others to wear, if these don’t look good.”

“I may have some here,” he told her, pulling a slim velvet
box from his inner pocket.

She opened it and gasped. Delicate bell-shaped panels in
white gold set with diamonds hung from graceful hooks, while graduated chains
of more tiny diamonds set in white gold dangled below. The effect was dazzling,
yet feminine and ethereal.

She held the opened box in her hand and looked up at him.
“These are too much,” she said slowly. “They’re so beautiful. Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he answered firmly. “I lost the receipt and
I can’t return them, and they look shocking on me. So I’m afraid you’ll have to
wear them.”

“But how did you know?” she wondered. “What kind to buy, I
mean? They’re just what I would have chosen if I could have had anything at
all.”

“How do you think?” he answered, a little proudly. “You’re
not the only one who can call Emery, you know.”

She glowed with pleasure at the gift and his thoughtfulness,
but still felt compelled to protest. “You didn’t have to do this, though.”

“Oh no,” he groaned. “Are we going to have this again, then?
Sweetheart, I wanted to get you a present. And now that I’ve seen you in that
dress, I can see I bought you the right thing, so I’m happy. At least I will be
if you’ll put the damn things in so we can get on to this bun fight.”

She laughed, distracted. “I’ve clearly lost my manners. Sorry,
you just took me by surprise. Thank you. I love them. They’re perfect.”

She quickly unfastened the old earrings and replaced them
with the new ones. “I have to look in the mirror now, though. You can’t give me
something this beautiful and not give me a minute to look.”

The earrings were even lovelier in her ears than they had
seemed in her hand, she decided as she stepped across to the mirror. The diamonds
sparkled as the tiny chains swayed and caught the light, and the effect with
the dress was indeed perfect.

She came back to Drew, put her arms around him, and pulled
him down for a kiss. “Thank you,” she said again. “You are a wonderful man. And
now, take me out to dinner, please, and tell me what in the world a bun fight
is.”

“I hope your car isn’t too far away,” she added as he held
the front door for her. “Because I’m not too good at walking in these shoes.”

He smiled down at her. “Good thing you won’t be walking far,
then. Here it is.” He pointed to a large town car waiting at the curb.

“Do you know,” she told him as the driver stepped out to
hold the door for her, “other than a car service to take me to the airport,
this is the first time I’ve been driven like this. How exciting.”

Drew laughed. “Best not hold back,” he teased. “Better to be
open.”

“Well,” she answered cheerfully, “I’m sure I’d give myself
away pretty quickly if I started pretending to be high-maintenance now. Might
as well be honest. It would take me a while to become blasé about these things,
though. It’s pretty luxurious, admit it, to be picked up and dropped off
anytime you like.”

“It is,” he agreed. “Especially when you’re walking in your
new shoes. And don’t forget that photo op. Can’t have you all sweaty and
windblown.”

She groaned. In the excitement of preparation, she had
almost forgotten about that. Almost. She reminded herself that she was now as
polished as any of the women whose red-carpet pictures she had studied online,
and that her gown was beautiful. That was the main thing people—women—looked at
anyway, she decided. The dress, and the man. In both of those, she was
confident.

So, when they stepped out of the car (onto an actual red
carpet, she was amused to see), and were directed into a backdrop area
featuring the society’s logo to have their picture taken, she gave the camera
her best smile and directed her thoughts toward the man at her side, his arm
firmly around her waist. If he had to do this, so could she. It was only posing
and looking happy for a minute or two, after all, and that was easy enough to
do right now.