“I don’t know where you buy it, but Dad probably will.”
Downstairs, we find Dad and Steve in the study. The two men are bent over some papers that look like a flight plan.
“Got a minute?” I ask, knocking on the door.
Steve glowers at the sight of Ella in my clothes.
“Nothing happened,” I feel compelled to mutter. “We were talking about Winter Formal and Ella said she doesn’t have a dress.”
“So the two of you are attending Winter Formal together?” Dad asks, peering over the papers at the two of us.
“Like hell they are,” Steve says stiffly.
Ella glowers at her father. “We’re not going together. Reed’s taking Jordan Carrington, and I’m going with Wade.”
Steve instantly relaxes. “All right.”
I hide my displeasure at his obvious relief. “Anyway, Ella needs a dress,” I mutter.
“Is this really a big deal?” she says in irritation. “I’ve got dresses.”
“I don’t know,” Dad says slowly, “but I chaperoned the formal a few years back and I remember seeing a lot of designer dresses. If Reed is telling me you need a dress, then I suppose you do.” He rubs his chin and then turns to Steve. “You dated that one woman…Patty, Peggy—”
“Perri Mendez?” Steve supplies. “Yes, she owned the Bayview Boutique.”
“She still does. I saw her at the Chamber of Commerce dinner a few weeks ago. Let’s see if she can make something happen.” Dad gestures for Ella to come to the desk. “Sit down and look at Perri’s website. Find a dress you like, and we’ll get it for you.”
Ella takes a seat. “What am I looking for?”
“As fancy as you can find,” I recommend. “This is pageant country.”
She clicks through a series of photos, then stops on a page. “I like this one.”
I can’t see which one she’s talking about, because her hand is blocking the screen.
“Save the picture and I’ll send it to Perri,” Dad tells her.
“Thanks.”
“Told you Dad would handle it,” I say with a grin.
She rises from the chair, and the two of us edge back toward the door, only to halt when Steve’s sharp voice pierces the air.
“Where are you two going?”
“Just up to my room. Don’t worry, Easton is already there,” Ella says, her feet already across the threshold.
Steve frowns. “Keep the door open. Your new boyfriend wouldn’t like it if he knew you were hanging around Reed so much.”
Dad gets a frustrated look on his face while I glance at Ella in confusion. New boyfriend? What in the world is she telling Steve?
Ella drags me upstairs, explaining as we go. “Steve thinks Wade is my new boyfriend because he took me out on the fake date. And I guess now that we’re going to the dance together, we’re an official couple.”
“You’re not a couple,” I remind her.
“Duh.”
Once we’re alone, I waste no time ridding her of her sweatshirt and kissing her, reminding her with my mouth exactly who she’s going out with.
“We didn’t leave the door open,” she murmurs.
“I know,” I say into her breasts. “Want me to stop?”
“Hell, no.”
We get about five minutes of fooling around before Easton bursts in.
“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” he asks, completely unrepentant. “I heard I’m watching television with you.”
Ella throws a pillow at his face, but moves over to make room for him. I flick the TV remote. As the screen flickers on, my girl tucks herself under my arm.
I don’t have much time before I go to prison. Spending even one night with Jordan isn’t how I want to use that precious time, but I’ll just have to suck it up. For Ella’s sake.
Because my goal for the weeks we have left is to make Ella Harper happy every second of every day.
30
Ella
On Friday night, Steve drives me over to the Royals’, grumbling the entire time. “In my day, the boy drove to the girl’s house. He didn’t drive to his best friend’s house to pick up the girl.”
“It was easier than Wade driving all the way to the city to get me,” I answer with a shrug. That, and I really wanted to get a sneak peek of Reed in his tux. But I keep that to myself.
As we roll through the Royal gates, I can’t help but think about what my life is like now versus when I first arrived. A few months ago, I was stripping at a seedy club called Daddy G’s. Today, I’m sitting in some ridiculously expensive car, wearing a dress that Val told me must have cost more than one year of tuition at Astor Park and shoes that have brand name crystals glued all over them. Val pronounced the name of the crystal maker three times and I still can’t get the hang of it. I look like a real-life Cinderella complete with the ball gown and glass slippers. I’m not sure if the fairy godmother in this situation is Callum or Steve, though.