Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,31
don’t talk to each other. But obviously it’s not the same. As the car crosses the gate and goes into the driveway of his estate, I feel my heartbeat accelerating with every second— tonight we will finally make our engagement official to his family. And I only hope everything will go smoothly and that Emma managed to arrange something decent to amaze the guests. As I am engrossed in my thoughts, I feel Alex’s hand pressing against mine and his attention never leaving me. “Are you alright?”
His low voice makes my gaze travel from the outdoors to his blue eyes. And as our eyes lock, my lips curving up, I tell him, “Yeah, I’m just so happy to be here with you.” I lift his hand, giving it a kiss. “Thanks for believing in us.”
As Alex and I arrive in the roundabout, I’m surprised to see the one and only Emma Hasenfratz waiting for us, standing on the front porch. She’s already sporting a black lace evening dress, which reminds me I still have to get dressed before the guests arrive. “Hi, Emma,” I greet her as soon as I get out of the car.
“Oh, finally!” I notice Emma was just finishing smoking as she drops her cigarette on the ground and smashes it with her high heel, then she promptly walks over in my direction, and, after briefly greeting Alex, she takes me by the arm and drags me in a rush inside the house.
“What’s the hurry?” I ask as we go upstairs.
“You need to get dressed,” Emma replies just as fast. “Guests are gonna be here in twenty minutes.” And I’m surprised at how comfortable she is walking me down the hallway and into my fiancé’s bedroom like it was hers. There, I see three different dresses lying on the bed, and Emma takes the first one before saying, “Janine brought three different dresses for you to choose from, but I think this one is gonna suit you the most.” The one Emma’s holding is a long, white mesh dress embroidered with red flowers and green stems. I let a small smile escape at seeing how similar it is to the dress I wore in Aspen. I glance at the others, but this one is definitely the most beautiful and unique to me.
“Alright, this one is fine.” I take off my sneakers, then my jeans and shirt, and Emma helps me get into the dress.
As she closes the zip on the back, I hear her asking, “Did you speak to him already?” And I know exactly what she is talking about.
A tense silence settles between us as I ponder for a moment. “Not yet,” I tell her quietly. With the dress on, I start observing my figure in the mirror. “Looks good, no?”
“Babe,” Emma mumbles, her expression laced with disappointment. “You guys have to talk. That nightmare was—”
“I know,” I cut her off. “But this evening is definitely not the right one to talk about this.” Then I see a pair of heels standing by the mirror, and after putting them on, I ask again in an attempt to change the subject, “Do you think these heels go well with this dress?”
But Emma is not giving up, and as she stands beside me, she looks at me in the mirror and forces me to face reality with one single question. “What are you afraid of?”
Letting out a sigh, I break eye contact, my gaze darting down for an instant as I consider if I should tell her the truth or not. “I have something else in mind besides confronting him.”
And as I look again at the mirror, I can see Emma raising her brows. “Really?”
“Yes.” Before she can keep inquiring, I turn, and, holding her stare, I say, “Look, I really appreciate all your advice, but he’s the one who has to be honest with me about my mom. I’m not supposed to know they had a talk. Alex is the one who must come forward and tell me about it. Not the other way around.”
Emma contemplates my answer for a second. “And what if he doesn’t?”
“Well, then, I assume he handled the situation.” And trying to leave the subject behind once and for all, I ask, “What time are they arriving?”
“Around six p.m.,” Emma replies, glancing at her watch.
“You look very beautiful today,” I blurt out. “I mean, you’re always beautiful. But that black dress looks really nice on you.” After all, it’s not every day that