A Daddy for Jacoby - By Christyne Butler Page 0,40

for a lemony-yellow chiffon number Giselle was already reaching for. “I always considered that a shame. Perhaps you could get dressed up and attend this event.”

Gina groaned as her sister giggled and disappeared back into her dressing room. “Mom, not you, too.”

“I think you’d have a wonderful time.” Her mother turned to her and held out a black, strapless dress with a fitted bodice and a voluminous skirt of starched netting that glistened under the dressing room lights.

“At a high school dance?”

“You’re not so far removed from high school, dear.”

Gina couldn’t keep from gently touching the dress. Three layers of tulle made up the skirt, the top layer lightly dusted with silver glitter, the middle black and ruffled and the bottom a deep chocolate. Gorgeous. “I’ll be twenty-three in a few months.”

“The perfect age to keep an eye on a group of teenagers while still having good time,” Sandy said, then whispered, “Why don’t you at least try it on?”

“Oh, I’m not dressed to try on anything formal.”

“It’s more about undressing than dressing, sis,” Giselle called out. “Mom, I need some help in here.”

“The bodice is boned, and the crinoline petticoats are already sewn into the skirt.” Her mother pushed the hanger at Gina. “You don’t need to wear anything special underneath.”

She took the dress, surprised at its substantial weight. “I don’t know…”

“It can’t hurt to try it on.” Her mother turned Gina toward an empty dressing room. “As soon as I saw it, I thought of you.”

Stepping inside the room, Gina hung the dress on the closest hook and stripped down to her panties before she could change her mind. She undid the side zipper, stepped into the dress and slid it into place while keeping her back to the room’s mirror.

It took some work to get the zipper back up, but she did it. Then she noticed her socks. Nope, they had to go, too. She toed them off, noting she needed to get to Ursula’s for another pedicure, and turned to face the mirror.

Her eyes widened.

Wow.

Gina inched toward her image, amazed at how the heart-shaped bodice hugged her breasts and the fitted structure did wonders for her posture. Her tanned skin glowed. Perching on tiptoes told her high heels were a necessity.

So was an updo hairstyle. She pulled a hair clip from her purse and seconds later her riot of curls was off her shoulders. They were still a mess, but it worked for now. She twirled back and forth, loving the swishing noise the tulle made.

Definitely a wow kind of dress.

Could she do this? Chaperone a high school dance?

It would be fun to see her siblings and their friends all dressed up and while a few teachers had been invited, the dance committee, of which Giselle was in charge, needed to secure the rest of the chaperones. Parents had quickly been scratched off the list, for obvious reasons according to Giselle, but older siblings would be perfect. Except if the older sibling was the town sheriff or his wife. That let Gage and Racy off the hook.

Okay, so now they had her thinking about it.

But she couldn’t show up alone. Talk about the heights of geekiness. Who could she ask—

No, no, no.

Gina’s cell phone chimed again and she jumped at the chance to end the ridiculous thought running through her head. She flipped it open and read the text message.

Go to the freaking dance.

Barbie. Geez, her sister was now getting Gina’s friends involved.

Would you like to go to a high school dance? she typed in response.

A minute later came Barbie’s reply. Been there, done that. If you’re looking for a date, try a guy. Then there’s no question about who leads who when dancing.

Gina rolled her eyes. Another message immediately followed.

Ask Ric Murphy. The guy is nuts for you. Unless you want to see if that cutie from Boston College is available.

Gina sighed. Yes, Ric had made it clear since the first night she worked at the bar he was interested in her. And the cutie from Massachusetts was a guy Gina had met on vacation who’d already emailed twice this week.

Both fun guys, both good-looking, both easy to talk to, but neither guy was Justin.

She closed her eyes.

It was time to move on. Pulling up a number before she had time to talk herself out of it, Gina put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Ric? It’s Gina. I was wondering if you had any plans for next Saturday night?”

She’d been stood up.

Ric had called

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