An After-Hours Affair

Do you have any idea-”

“I want children.”

“I know from experience how bad that can turn out.”

“We’re not talking about your childhood.” Emily glanced at her watch and hopped up from the bed. “In fact, we’re still talking about the wedding tonight. I can tell you, if I had a thing for a guy like Mitch, and if that guy was anywhere within a hundred miles of here, I’d damn well be doing something about it.”

“You would not.”

“I would.” Emily nodded decisively. “Come on, Jen. What’s the risk? He doesn’t notice, no harm done. You simply showed up to some friends’ wedding in a nice dress. But if he notices, it’s a whole new ball game.”

“If he doesn’t notice,” Jenny began, telling herself it was an academic argument, since she wasn’t really considering the dress, “then it’s game over.”

Compassion rose in Emily’s blue eyes. “If he doesn’t notice you in this, it was game over anyway. Wouldn’t you rather know?”

Jenny started to shake her head, but then she stopped. Did she truly want to spend the next year, or two, or three, longing for a man who wasn’t remotely interested in her? Would she rather keep the fantasy alive, or would she rather face the truth, no matter how hurtful?

“If he’s not into you, Jen, then you can move on. You have to move on.”

Jenny catalogued her options, considering every angle as dispassionately as humanly possible. But, despite her efforts to be strictly analytical, her emotions crowded in. Her heart rate increased, heat prickling her skin, as she silently admitted Emily’s advice had merit.

Perhaps it truly was now or never.

“Be a woman about it,” said Emily, holding the dress forward, an expression of hopeful encouragement in her eyes.

Jenny steeled her nerves.

She took a bracing breath and rose from the bed, snatching the dress from Emily’s grasp. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Shower first,” cautioned Emily, taking back the dress. “And shave your legs. We have exactly four hours to completely make you over.”

“I’m not-”

Emily gave her a gentle shove toward the bathroom. “Oh, yes, you are.”

By the time Emily had styled Jenny’s hair, applied her makeup, helped her into the dress and clipped on some jewelry, Jenny was a nervous wreck. Emily had refused to let her look in the mirror until the process was complete, and Jenny now stood in the middle of the bedroom balancing on dainty, high-heeled sandals. The fancy dress rustled against her thighs. Her face was tight with carefully applied makeup. And she had walked through a mist of Emily’s most expensive perfume.

Finally, Emily stood back to survey her. “You ready?”

“I’ve been ready for three hours.”

Emily’s grin went from ear to ear. “You look amazing.”

“I’m going to fall off the shoes.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I hate wearing my contacts.”

“Buck up. This is going to be worth it.”

“The black dress would have been perfectly fine.”

“The black dress wouldn’t have changed your life.”

Jenny frowned at her friend. Nobody’s life was getting changed tonight. Mitch wasn’t going to spy her from across the Texas Cattleman’s Club hall, realize he’d never seen the real Jenny before and rush to pull her into his arms.

Never going to happen.

Which was depressing.

After tonight, she’d never be able to delude herself again.

“Here we go,” said Emily, pulling her walk-in closet door closed to line up the full-length mirror.

Jenny looked into the mirror. Her eyes focused, and she blinked in astonishment.

The woman staring back didn’t look anything like her.

“Something’s wrong,” she said to Emily.

“Huh?”

“That’s not me.”

Emily laughed. “That most certainly is you.”

Jenny shifted experimentally. The sandals elongated her calves, tanned from swimming in the lake all summer. Her neck looked longer than usual, her arms more graceful, and the updo of her thick strawberry blond hair was complemented by Emily’s glamorous earrings. The necklace winked at her, while her artificially lengthened lashes blinked heavily over her green eyes.

The neck of the dress made the most of her cleavage. And her bare shoulder felt decadently sexy. For some reason, her waist seemed narrower than usual. Maybe it was the full skirt, or the way the cut of the bodice accentuated her breasts.

Nervous sweat popped out on her brow. “I can’t go out like this.”

“What? Afraid you’ll stop traffic?”

“Afraid I’ll get propositioned.”

“Good grief. You look like a movie star, not a hooker.”

“I feel like a hooker.”

“Yeah? Tell me, what does a hooker feel like?” Emily pulled a small jeweled purse out of her top drawer and snagged Jenny’s bag from where she’d dropped it on the bay window’s padded bench seat.

“This isn’t funny.” Panic began to swell in Jenny.

The makeover was all fine and good as a fantasy, but there was no way she could leave Emily’s house looking like this. The gossip would swirl around Royal for months to come.

How could she have let this happen?

How could she have been so foolish?

She swallowed. “We have to take it off.”

“There’s no time.”

“There’s-”

“If you don’t leave now, the bride will beat you to the church.” Emily stuffed the vital contents of Jenny’s bag into the jeweled clutch.

“I’m serious, Em.”

“So am I.” Emily pressed the purse into Jenny’s hand and held out her car keys. “You gotta go.”

“But-”

“You want to be late?”

“Of course not.” Jenny prided herself on her meticulous punctuality. And even if she didn’t, she’d never insult such a respected TCC member by rushing in at the last minute for his wedding.

Emily gave her a gentle shove toward the door. “Have a great time, Cinderella.”

Mitch Hayward was going to be late. Of all the days, of all the events, of all the stupid, stupid fiascos, it had to be this. At this rate, Rick and Sadie would be standing under the Leadership, Justice and Peace plaque at the Texas Cattleman’s Club clubhouse with a preacher pronouncing them man and wife, by the time Mitch made it into the parking lot.

He zipped past the diner in his vintage red Corvette and geared down for the corner at River Road, his back tires breaking loose against the hot asphalt. But he stomped defiantly on the gas pedal, muscled the car to head straight and prayed that Officer Brendall wasn’t out on traffic patrol at this particular moment.

The roof of the clubhouse came into view in the distance amongst the oak trees, at the same time as he spotted a long white limousine on the road in front of him. It had to be Sadie and her bridesmaids. He geared down and put the pedal to the floor, pulling around the limousine, hoping against hope that Sadie would forgive him for