“Really?” As scattered as I was feeling, getting out in the muggy August heat was preferable to sitting at my cool desk. “That’d be awesome!”
He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “Let’s go.”
WHEN I got home shortly after five o’clock, I found my living room taken over by a team of white-coated beauty technicians. Cary and Trey were kicked back on the couch with green goop on their faces and towels under their heads to protect the white upholstery. My mother was chatting away while her hair was styled in a sexy cap of waves and curls.
I took a quick shower, then joined them. In an hour, they managed to take me from bedraggled to glamorous, affording me the time to think about everything I’d ruthlessly suppressed all day—the video, Corinne, Giroux, Deanna, and Brett.
Someone was going to have to tell Brett. That someone was me.
When the beautician came toward me with a lip brush, I held up my hand. “Red, please.”
She paused a minute, her head canting as she examined me. “Yes, you’re right.”
I was holding my breath through a finishing blast of hair spray when my smartphone vibrated in the pocket of my robe. Seeing Gideon’s name on the screen, I answered. “Hi, ace.”
“What color are you wearing?” he asked, without a hello.
“Silver.”
“Really?” His voice took on a warm purr that made my toes flex. “I can’t wait to see you in it. And out of it.”
“You won’t be waiting,” I admonished. “You’d better have your fine ass over here in about ten minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My eyes narrowed. “Hurry up or we won’t have any limo time.”
“Umm … I’ll be there in five.”
He hung up and I held my phone for a minute, smiling.
“Who was that?” my mom asked, coming up beside me.
“Gideon.”
Her eyes lit up. “He’s escorting you tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Eva.” She hugged me. “I’m so glad.”
With my arms around her, I figured it was as good a time as any to start spreading the engagement news. I knew Gideon wasn’t going to wait long before insisting on sharing our marriage with the world.
I said quietly, “He asked Dad for permission to marry me.”
“Did he?” When she pulled back, she was smiling. “He talked to Richard, too, which I think is such a nice touch, don’t you? I’ve already started planning. I was thinking June, at the Pierre, of course. We’ll—”
“I suggest December, at the latest.”
My mother gasped, her eyes widening. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way to pull off a wedding in that amount of time. It’s impossible.”
I shrugged. “Tell Gideon you’re thinking of June next year. See what he says.”
“Well, I have to wait until he actually proposes first!”
“Right.” I kissed her cheek. “I’m going to get dressed.”
23