Sleeping with Beauty (24 page)

“‘Date’?”

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.

She imagined that Jason had probably been right in the middle of his exuberant recounting of winning the state basketball championship with his three-point jumper on the buzzer, but was now unable to speak because his gaze had once again connected with hers. Then all the excited buzz of the crowd around him would die as everyone looked from him to the object of his obvious lust and affection. Of course he’d cross the floor, setting their drinks on the tray of a passing waiter, never once breaking their soul-deep eye-to-eye contact. Heedless of the heads turning in his wake, he would make his way to her side, take her hands, bringing them to his lips as he apologized for leaving her alone for so long. Then, after brushing his warm lips across her bare knuckles, he would bend her back over one arm for a soul-searing kiss that left the men in the room grinning and the women swooning.

Instead, to her absolute horror, he grinned broadly, then gestured for her to come over. To join him. And other people. His crowd. People who knew exactly who he was, and who he’d been, and what he was now. People who had no clue she was Lucy Harper, high school geek-o-rama-cum-third-grade-teacher-and-wannabe-swan.

She swallowed hard, wishing a passing waiter would appear now so she could down a glass or six of whatever happened to be on his tray at the moment.

“Vivian, where are you when I need you?” she whispered beneath her breath. If there was any way she could have dissolved and magically reappeared behind the safety of the tinted windows of the Glass Slipper limo, she would have. As it was, her only means of escape lay beyond the beckoning Jason.

She should have gone with spontaneity.

Chapter
19
                                                                                                                                       

A
s one, all eyes in his adoring crowd turned to see who he was motioning to.
The moment was finally upon her.

“Don’t trip. Find your rhythm,” she whispered beneath her breath. Clutching her shawl, wanting desperately to check her hair, but not even daring so much as a hair flip, she cautiously made her way over to the small group.
Attempt a winning smile? Or play it cool and casual?
As if she wore stuff like this, dripping in fine jewels, every night of the week. She was so nervous she wasn’t sure she could pull off anything more than a sickly grin at this point. And what would she say when they looked for her badge and asked for introductions? Jason couldn’t know it was her, so that would prove awkward right from the start, pointing out that even he didn’t know her name. So how special could she be?

Then she was there. And the time for subterfuge plotting was over.

Jason beamed at her and made room for her in his circle—the inner circle—as he handed her her drink. “Sorry, I got waylaid by this merry band of revelers.”

Everyone chuckled like that was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Boy, she wished she had a portable backup support group. That would come in handy when she was trying to explain multiplication tables to a bunch of hungry, tired eight-year-olds. “Look, they think it’s fun, so will you!”

She managed a light smile as she glanced up at Jason while simultaneously avoiding making eye or badge contact with anyone else. If she didn’t know who they were, and they didn’t know who she was, well, then it was safe to say she could pretend none of this mattered. Right? She stifled the urge to down her champagne in one unladylike swallow.

“They insisted I tell them the story about the championship final point.” He grinned his handsome-prince grin at the group. “I haven’t thought about that night in years.”

Everyone knew that was a lie, including Lucy. He’d made it sound like he’d had so many amazing moments since then that he could scarcely remember something as minor as winning the state championship for their high school for the first time in its fifty-year history. With a three-pointer. On the buzzer. In double overtime.

Sure, he’d gone on to some better-than-modest success in college, but he probably had the front-page story laminated and tacked to the ceiling over his bed for daily motivation.

Jason’s bed. Not a safe thinking topic, no matter how much stimulation-numbing alcohol was at hand.

“So, it was down to three seconds,” said someone in the crowd, encouraging the story back on track.

Lucy had no idea who the speaker was because she was too busy slowly taking sips of her champagne and casting her winning smile at Jason. Lucy had a feeling she rated winsome more than winning. Not the kind of thing that got his attention. But at the moment she was more interested in getting him back into his story so the rapt attention of the clustered group would turn back to him. And away from her. Before anyone realized no introductions had been made.

She felt a few assessing glances thrown her way, but they were all quickly swept back into the excitement of his moment. And, before she knew how it happened, she was quickly relegated to the starstruck wanna-be-seen-with position. No one cared about her, because she obviously didn’t matter.

Well, look on the bright side,
she told herself.
You didn’t make a fool out of yourself. You got your dance. You got your kiss. On the rooftop, under the stars, no less. All in all, maybe not a slam-dunk ace on her final, but a pretty decent showing. Sleeping Beauty has finally awakened . . . so what if she’s still a bit groggy?

Lucy sipped the rest of her drink as the high-school championship game story segued directly into the college hoops sagas. She had to admit he was a very dynamic speaker. She hadn’t the vaguest clue about the difference between running the two-three down low and taking the defense to a perimeter feed, or why running the latter had saved them from early elimination, but he made it all sound so exciting, she was almost as entranced as the rest of them. She bet he made an awesome trial attorney. All he had to do was stack the jury with any representation of the opposite sex and he was well on his way to securing victory for his client. Guilty or not.

Well into his element now, the crowd grew, and she eventually got shuffled back into the second row, behind Jason’s elbow. Then the third. He was giving the play-by-play of his latest trial victory now, and her champagne glass was empty. No one was paying her any attention, and she decided that was perfectly fine with her.

So it wasn’t quite the fairy-tale ending she’d imagined when he’d kissed her. So he wasn’t Mr. The Right One, but Mr. The Right One Tonight. Or just Mr. The Right One for a Brief Moment. The true test was that she was able to enjoy what she had gotten, be satisfied with her fiasco-free performance here tonight, and leave with fond memories of the evening intact. Lucy Harper really had grown up. She was bulletproof.

P
lacing her drink on an empty tray, she headed carefully for the door. No point in giving anyone a last-minute, full-scale Harperesque production.

After navigating her way back down to the ballroom, she zeroed in on the lobby and the freedom that lay just beyond. She paused just outside the ballroom doors to fish out her limo pager, when someone put a hand on her arm and lightly tugged her back. Her heart tripped, and she realized then that she wasn’t quite as grown-up and mature as she’d thought. But she turned to find it was Grady. Not Jason. She tried to mask her disappointment, but Grady knew her all too well.

“I thought you’d gone home,” she said.

He shrugged. “I figured it was my reunion, too. And I’d paid for the ticket. Might as well have my free drinks out of the deal. Besides, Jana wants me to bring back the best dirt to take her mind off her puke-o-rama sessions.”

Lucy smiled. Grady was the best guy friend ever. A sad little pang followed as she remembered that he didn’t seem interested in being her best guy friend. Not anymore.

“So, leaving before the ball is over?”

She knew him all too well, too. She’d hurt his feelings earlier. And though she still wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done to put herself in the wrong, she hadn’t meant to hurt him. “The princess didn’t wear comfortable slippers,” she said, unsure with him for possibly the first time ever. “Why do women wear these instruments of torture, anyway?”

The ballroom doors opened as a few other alumni came out. They both looked inside to see Jason, still the center of attention, now holding court alongside the dance floor. “What happened with Prince Charming?”

“He has a lot of loyal subjects.”

“Not you?”

She lifted a shoulder. “It was a nice evening. While it lasted.”

Grady smiled then, his true smile. The one she’d been missing so much. Her heart filled with relief, even as guilt poured in to fill the remaining nooks and crannies. She wanted her best friend back. To that end, she made a solemn vow right then to be a better best friend in return. To both Jana and Grady. Lucy’s Big Night was over. And in the end, both of her friends had come through for her, or tried their best. Now it was her turn to focus on being there for them.

“I said earlier,” she began, “that I didn’t need you to rescue me anymore. Maybe that’s so,” she said, then quickly hurried on when that warm smile flickered. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still need you. I might need to fall down on my own sometimes, and I know I need to try new things, figure out exactly who I am, on the outside and the inside.” She took his sardonic glance at her dress in stride. “I didn’t say I’d mastered it just yet. This was Vivian’s idea. But I had to give it a shot. How else am I going to get the answers I need?”

“You could just listen to me. You know I’m always right when it comes to what’s best for you.”

She knocked her knuckles into his arm, then rubbed the spot when he winced. Two-carat prongs made a good weapon, as it turned out. “Sorry. And maybe you are the great arbiter of all things Lucy Harper. Your guidance has always meant a great deal to me. But you’re more at peace with yourself than I am. So you don’t understand when I want to push at the status quo. You think I should be happy as is, just like you. You want me to play it safe and be the same old Lucy Harper. Only I’m tired of playing it safe. I don’t like the status quo.”

“So, you like this?” He motioned to her dress, then nodded back toward the door, beyond which Jason was holding court. “This was the real you all along, just dying to get out?”

Lucy stared into the eyes of her best friend . . . and realized there was no way she would ever be able to make him appreciate the benefits a Brazilian wax could bring to a woman’s psyche. How was he really going to understand any of this? “I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t get a little thrill being accepted into the cool-kids group with nary a blink.”

“I can see where the shocked wow-is-that-really-you reactions would be satisfying. I get that.”

Something in her expression must have given her away.

He cocked his head, then zeroed in on her badgeless state. “Wait. They don’t know, do they?”

She shook her head. “It was enough just to fit in. I didn’t want or need the rest.”

To her surprise, Grady chuckled.

“What?” she said, really trying not to be defensive.

He shook his head, then pulled her into a surprising hug. “Nothing. You’re just . . . so you.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended,” she said, the words muffled against the sleeve of his jacket.

“Flattered.” He set her back, and his gaze rested on hers, quite sincere. “I’m sorry if I was holding you back. My mistake.”

“Really? You get it?”

“Will you ever let me live it down if I tell you that you make a smashing princess?”

She lit up. “You really think so?”

“Everybody should be the belle of the ball sometime, I guess.” Grady offered her his arm. “Allow me to escort you to your carriage?”

She gave him a sideways glance, wondering about the sudden shift in mood. Maybe it was her just being her overly analytical self, reading too much into every little thing of late. Maybe Grady was actually fine with her experimentation into dabbling in the world of the swans now that it seemed to be over. Whatever the case, he was trying, which was more than she’d hoped for earlier, and she was just grateful enough to go with the flow.

Smiling back at him, she held up her pager thingie. “Wait till you see my carriage, mister.” She pushed the little red button. “Play your cards right and I’ll get the nice driver to take us for a spin around the town.” She slipped her arm through his, but as they turned to head out, the big doors opened behind them and suddenly there was Jason. Larger than life.

He saw her, his easy, natural smile widening, before flickering slightly when he took in the scene. “Are you leaving?” The question was for her. He barely glanced at Grady.

Her heart bumped against the inside of her chest.
He had come for her after all!
She didn’t dare glance at Grady. Dammit! She’d just sort of made peace with him again, and the last thing she wanted was to chance ruining their fresh accord by swooning all over Jason Prescott. And yet . . . the ball wasn’t over. Prince Charming was right in front of her.

“I was,” she said.
Was.
Such a nice, wishy-washy kind of word. Not “I am,” all definite, as if he couldn’t change her mind. Saying
was
implied that she might have been thinking about it, but now . . . who knows?

He flashed his game-winning smile. “Could I talk to you for a minute before you go?” He finally spared a glance for Grady, all supreme confidence. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Lucy tensed in that moment, praying silently that Grady didn’t choose that moment to make a point by saying something snide. Oh, he’d be all subtle about it, leaving Jason to wonder if he’d just been insulted or not, but she didn’t even want to risk that much.
Please, please, don’t mess this up for me.