“I haven’t had time. I have some white dresses at home that will work,” I say.
“I thought you might say that,” she says, running out of the room and returning with a long dress bag. “I brought a dress for you to wear.”
“You did?”
“Yes, it was one of the dresses Mom had. You know designers are always sending her things. I saw the dress and knew it would look perfect on you. Or at least the you that you are today.”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem different. Happier than I’ve seen you in a while. This is a happy dress.”
“A happy dress?”
“It’s hard to explain, but yes. If you end up not liking it, it’s okay. I won’t be offended. I’ll see you tonight!”
After she leaves, I think about two things. About the reporter who will be stalking Dawson at the party, and that except for today, Avery is right, I have been the happiest I’ve been in a while.
Because of Dawson.
I acted like a little jealous brat last night and have been avoiding him all day.
And I understand. I do.
But it still hurt.
And the hurt surprised me.
And that made me mad.
At myself.
I look at the clock. Three hours until party time.
But I have one more thing to take care of before I go get ready.
Asher Vineyards — Sonoma County
ARIELA
I’m just walking back into Maggie’s office after my visit to the bakery to finalize the wedding cake details when I get a call from Collin.
“Your dad told me the good news.”
“I told him the good news on Tuesday. I expected to hear from you sooner.”
“I was out of the office until today.”
“What were you doing?”
“I took a couple personal days, Ariela,” he spews. “My wife filed for divorce. It kinda shook me.”
“Sure it did. You were so shook up that you went straight to your secretary’s arms.”
“Are you having me followed?”
“Actually, yes. And I have pictures.”
“Pictures of what?”
“Of you boning your secretary, darling.”
“You’re lying, pumpkin. You would never think to do something like that. You trust me. You’re just testing me.”
“Trust me, pumpkin. I’m not lying. I’m also working on a special surprise for you.”
“Yeah, your dad told me. You’re throwing a holiday party for all my clients. Big whoop.”
“That was supposed to be a secret.”
“Your dad and I are tight.”
“Collin, a quick uncontested divorce from your boss’ daughter that is nice and clean and agreeable, will be much better for you than one where all your dirty laundry gets aired by your wife.”
“You would look like a fool. No way you’d do that to your dad. You don’t have the balls.”
“I’ve grown a big set of balls in the last couple of weeks, Collin. Trust me, I already have the invitations being printed.”
“Big deal. Who you gonna send them to?”
“I take it my dad didn’t tell you everything. Like the fact that he gave me your entire client list?”
“Uh, no.”
“See, here’s the thing, Collin. I flat out lied to my dad. Wanna know what I’m really going to send out?”
“What?”
“Gorgeous Thanksgiving cards featuring two photos. One from our beautiful wedding and another of you breaking your vows by screwing your secretary in her living room.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, yes. I would. In fact, if you contest the divorce, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
“I’ll take my chances. Most of the men I know would applaud me. My secretary is smoking hot.”
“You’re right. They might. Fortunately for me, most of them are married to women who don’t work. Women who get the mail. Women who would be upset by what they saw. You wanted to pretend we have an amazing, stable marriage. You wanted me to have the perfect car, the perfect handbag, the perfect house. Appearances are everything to you and your business.”
“Whatever.”
“Collin, you don’t work very hard because my dad gives you all his new business. If these photos go out, it will hurt my dad’s business. Do you really think your pretty partnership will happen after that?”
“Uh . . .”
“Exactly. Oh, hang on. Let me send you a mock-up of the card I sent to the printers. It’s cute. There’s even a poem. You’ll get a kick out of it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it, Collin. I’m hanging up now. Enjoy your card.”
I’m shaking again when I hang up.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Maggie says, “But fuck yeah! I’m so proud of you for standing up to that asshole!” She studies me. “You know what. You look like you could use a glass of wine. Fortunately, that’s something we have plenty of here. Red or white?”
“White. I can’t believe I said all that. My dad is going to be mad at me when he finds out I lied to him.”
“And do you care about that?” she asks as she drags me out of her office, across the street to her house, and onto her front porch. “Sit and rock. I’ll be right back.”
I sit down and rock. And rock.