you?”
Gwen stiffened. “Of course. It is New Year’s Eve.”
“Right. But beyond that? Did you have any big expectations for tonight?”
“Well.” Gwen ran her hands down the gown. “Yes.”
“Oh? Want to tell me about it?”
Gwen’s expertly made-up eyes were threatened by unshed tears. “I’m kind of hoping my boyfriend proposes tonight.”
There was more to it than that. Chantal was sure of it. This was not a woman who was looking forward to becoming engaged. “Has he given any hints?”
“Not really. That is why we broke up. So, I guess I should call him my ex-boyfriend.” Gwen swallowed hard.
“That is why you insisted we make the dress white,” Chantal said, realization sparking. “You want him to see what he is missing now that you’re apart.”
“Yeah. Exactly. But this dress is all wrong. I do not look… bridal. I look ridiculous.”
Chantal bit down the inside of her cheek, deep in thought. “Well, if we had gone more bridal, then the dress would not be a subtle nudge.” Not that it was. It was about as subtle as a fifty-foot billboard, complete with flashing lights. “This is an evening gown that just happens to be white. It is elegant and frames your natural grace and beauty perfectly.”
Chantal moved toward Gwen, placing her in front of the long mirror in the hotel room’s living room. “See?” She pointed to the dipping neckline. “This is simple and tasteful, yet chic.” She helped Gwen turn, putting the back of the dress on display. “And look at that train. Graceful. Just imagine walking around the party with those sequins shimmering behind you. I would say that by the end of the night, you will be dragging his heart along.”
Gwen sniffled. “You really think so?”
“I do. But if you’re not comfortable, I did bring other dresses. You could try them on, but honestly? This dress is yours. I made it with your design in mind. I think you look beautiful.” Chantal took the delicate white lace mask embroidered with small pearls and crystals and gently affixed it to Gwen’s face. “Look how beautiful you are.”
Gwen’s smile was small and unsure.
“Let me know what you decide.” Chantal held her breath, waiting for the answer.
It didn’t take that long. Gwen spun around a few times, her eyes critically taking in every inch of her dress and appearance. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch,” she said simply. “Rocco is the love of my life. He is an idiot for breaking up with me. I think he is just scared of what forever means with someone like me.”
Her smile turned devilish. “He won’t know what hit him when he sees me.” Gwen waved her off. “Now that you’re here with spare dresses, you should stay for the party.”
Chantal balked, her mouth hanging wide open. “I wasn’t invited.”
“I’m inviting you right now,” Gwen stated, grabbing a bottle of champagne. She poured an overly generous amount into two flutes before offering Chantal one. “You’re at the Winslow Hotel for the party of the year. Are you seriously telling me you have better plans?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I do.”
“Sure,” Gwen chuckled. “Which are, what, exactly?”
“Moo Shu Pork and a TV binge.”
Gwen gasped, her eyes popping wide dramatically. “You’re insane. You’re going to leave here to go spend an evening alone?”
Chantal nodded.
“I don’t fucking think so. You’re not going anywhere. You’re a designer and a good one at that. You need to stay and celebrate. There are a lot of sexy single dudes here tonight.”
“Oh, no. That’s okay. I’m not looking for—” Chantal gulped. “Anything. Really, I just want to be back at my place in my pajamas.”
Gwen rolled her eyes, reminding Chantal of Margie. “If you don’t stay, I’m going to feel personally insulted. Besides, as the night goes on, I’m going to be asked who designed my dress. Do you want me to just say your name, a nobody designer who happens to know Jeremy Winslow? Or I could point people in your direction. You’d drum up a lot of business.”
Chantal had already refused to come to the party tonight. Jeremy had extended an invitation, knowing she would refuse because it was a shifter party. He hadn’t pushed more than that because he understood she was shy and more of a homebody, and definitely not into the types of things that happened at these specific kinds of parties.
But now that Gwen Marsdale was insisting that she stay, things were different. Gwen was right. If she did stay, it could be a huge