The Redhead Revealed (Redhead #2)(36)
Author: Alice Clayton

“Oh, hey, do you need anything? I can run and grab something for you. Ginger ale?” I could tell from his voice that his eyebrows were knit together, and he probably stared at the door with a curious look.

“No, no. I’ll be okay. I’ll be out in a bit. Start thinking about what you want for lunch, and we can pick it up on the way to Holly’s,” I said before the tears began to fall again.

I turned on the water and was instantly underneath, the water and my tears mixing together. It was like everything I’d thought before this morning—and the carefully constructed calm I’d felt when I first returned from my getaway drive—was crumbling like a house of cards. Within the last hour, the very foundations of everything I thought I knew had been thoroughly shaken, and it was me who had shaken them! I needed to get this under control fast if I was going to be in any kind of shape to make it through tonight. This was going to be a long evening.

Ninety minutes later, we were at Holly’s. We’d picked up sandwiches from Nate and Al’s in Beverly Hills. Her place was a circus, and as we brought everything in we saw car after car, including Nick’s. Holly had hired hair and makeup for the two of us, and we’d be getting ready here. Jack had brought his suit with him last night to my house and now had it draped over his arm along with my dress, still hidden in a garment bag.

We all ate, and then Holly put Jack on the phone to do a few last-minute interviews. I’d managed to avoid any more mini-meltdowns, and I was feeling a little calmer. I was going to be there for Jack tonight. This was the man I loved. I’d figure the rest out later.

As the day progressed, everything seemed to simultaneously speed up and slow down. Jack and I had no time alone together, and before I knew it, I was in my old room, in my bra and underwear, with rollers in my hair and a woman applying my makeup. Holly showed up in the doorway, looking similar, although she’d had the taste to put on a robe.

She plopped down on the bed and watched me get primped. “You ready for this?” she asked.

“Yes, why?”

“Okay, then, I’ll give you the ground rules. Jack, get your British ass in here!” she yelled.

Almost instantly, he popped his head into the room. He raised his eyebrows at my skimpy attire, and I giggled in spite of myself. He made me melt like a thirteen year old every time he did that.

“Here are the rules, you two. No hand-holding, no touching, no kissing of any kind, obviously. You’ll arrive separately, and Grace, you’ll walk the red carpet with Nick. I’ll have one of my assistants working the line ahead of time, and if there’s too much speculation about whether Jack will be bringing a date, or any mention at all of an unidentified redhead, you’ll skip the red carpet altogether. Got it?”

At this, Nick stuck his head around the corner. “I’ll still get to walk it by myself, though, even if this little whore ruins it for herself, right?” he asked, outrage on his face.

“Nice, Nick,” Jack muttered.

“I would never take a red carpet from you, Nick. You can walk it alone if I can’t.” I laughed, seeing his eyes light up.

“So we can’t touch or kiss. Are we allowed to talk?” Jack said with a heavily sarcastic tone.

The tone was ignored by Holly as she considered his question. “Yes, yes, you may talk. But only after everyone is inside, and only once the press clears out,” she answered, in full management mode now.

I was a little scared of her. Jack just looked scared period.

The stylist finished taking the rollers out of my hair, and the makeup artist gave me a final touchup. Holly was next.

“Can you guys give us a few minutes, please?” I asked.

“Yeah, come on,” Holly said. “Let’s get me beautiful in my room. Come on, Nick.” She winked at me, and they all filed out, leaving Jack behind.

“Nervous?” Jack asked.

“Yep, you?”

“Yep, a little,” he answered. He looked more than a little nervous.

“Come here,” I said, pulling him over to my side of the bed and opening my arms. He scooped me up and sat me on his lap. His arms went around me, and I cradled him to my chest, letting his head nestle into my nook. I scratched his scalp and kissed his hair, and hummed something, maybe a Christmas tune. I wasn’t really thinking about it. I could feel him relaxing as the band around my heart got tighter and tighter until I felt like bursting.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he whispered, and I closed my eyes.

I kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, and finally his sweet lips. “I love you, George. You know this, right?” I asked, my gaze fierce.

“I do know this, Gracie. Why do you keep asking me that?” He smiled that sexy little half grin, and I almost went to pieces. I heard Holly coming back down the hall, saying something about needing bobby pins from the bathroom.

“I better finish getting ready. See you downstairs in a little while,” I said, standing up and leaving the safety of his arms.

“I’ll see you downstairs, love.” He chuckled and pulled me in for one last kiss. I took a deep breath, centered myself, and began to get ready.

The dress Leslie and I found at Bergdorf’s clung to me like a second skin. I’d been going for extra-long runs each day for the last two weeks, not to mention banishing anything that even looked like a carb to the curb to get ready for this night. I was relieved to see it had paid off. The dress was silk shaded just between champagne and gold with a gathered, plunging neckline. It was tight to the waist, then flared out in a bubble. Thin spaghetti straps kept my cle**age hiked up miraculously to my chin, and the tiny belt with a small emerald-green, rhinestone-encrusted clasp made my waist look practically nonexistent.

I thanked Jesus that I hadn’t made too much of a mess with the self-tanner, and my skin glowed. My hair fell in soft curls all around my face. Jack loved it when I wore my hair down and wild, although it was carefully tamed for this evening.

But the kicker? My kicks. Manolo. Jeweled d’Orsay.

I felt like a princess as I sailed down the hall to find Holly. She was looking hot herself in a little black strapless number paired with tall red heels. When someone mentioned Lane earlier, she’d suddenly decided to change from the more sensible black kitten heels she’d initially been wearing. I was going to have to ask her about that…

As we approached the stairs I could hear Jack in the kitchen laughing with Nick. He was still trying to convince Jack they should at least kiss to make sure he was, in fact, straight.