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FORTY-THREE
JESSICA
I usually spentNew Year’s Eve with Jami and I had intended to do the same this year until I’d gone to see Derrick. The things he’d said had hit me hard and by the time I’d gotten back home, I knew that I wanted to see him again. I needed to know if we could move past what had happened…or if we both needed to move on from each other.
I took a deep breath and smoothed down my dress over my hips. The Louis Vuitton gown was more expensive than any dress I’d ever worn – except my wedding dress – and it was absolutely gorgeous. It wasn’t technically mine. When I decided to go to the ball tonight, I knew I needed a dress and there was only one person who could help me find something appropriate.
Amelia had come through in a way I hadn’t expected. She’d immediately come to my apartment with a garment bag, shoved it at me, and told me to go try it on. She was only an inch or so taller than me and we had similar enough builds that she’d brought a dress she’d purchased a couple weeks ago but hadn’t yet worn.
Now, I wore a deep, forest green strapless dress with a plunging neckline and a tasteful slit up the side. Jami had done my hair in a twist that looked more complicated than it really was, an updo that left a few curls free to frame my face and brush against my shoulders. She’d also taken charge of my make-up, her wordless way of expressing her acceptance of my decision to see Derrick. She was still skeptical, but Amelia’s belief that Derrick had changed, as well as Derrick’s decision about my parents’ building were enough for Jami to at least give him a chance.
Now, as Amelia and I got into her car, I realized I didn’t know where we were going. Before I could open my mouth to ask, she leaned forward and said to the driver, “The Plaza, please.”
I leaned back in the street, the nerves in my stomach going from anticipation and anxiety to just the latter. I’d avoided the Plaza at all costs since I’d walked out months ago, and now I understood why she hadn’t told me before where the ball was being held.
I really didn’t want to go back there, and I was honestly surprised that Derrick was okay with it.
“It’ll be fine,” Amelia said, taking my hand. “It’ll be decorated so differently that it won’t even look like the same place. And it might not even be in the same room.”
I squeezed her hand and forced a smile. “I hope you’re right, because I was hoping for a new start, not a repeat of the worst day of my life.”
“Just focus on the fact that Derrick wants you to be there,” Amelia said. “The place doesn’t matter, just the person.”
The place doesn’t matter, just the person.
I held on to those words as the driver made his way through the New Year’s Eve traffic and eventually pulled up in front of the Plaza.
And my date was waiting outside.
Amelia let out a low whistle and then chuckled. “I haven’t seen Derrick look this put together in months.”
“Months?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the handsome man walking toward the limo.
“He hasn’t been the same since…” Amelia let her voice trail off. Just as Derrick reached for the door, however, she added softly, “You made him better, Jessica. Happier. And I think you can do it again.”
Then the door opened, and Derrick was there with his hand extended. Smiling up at him, I slipped my hand into his and let him help me from the vehicle. We’d just stepped away when the door closed behind me, and the car pulled away.
“Isn’t Amelia coming tonight?” I asked, glancing behind me.
“She’s never much enjoyed these sorts of events,” Derrick said as he laced his fingers between mine. “The political ones, anyway. She’s going to one for some arts foundation she supports.”
“She didn’t say anything,” I said.
Damn, this was awkward.
Derrick glanced at me, something very much like vulnerability in his eyes. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.” I smiled and squeezed his hand. “So do you.”
We headed inside and I felt my body starting to tense, but Amelia had been right that different decorations were up. Then, instead of going to the Terrace Room, we made our way into the Palm Court. Being in a different room gave me a little more relief, but I still felt like I was walking on eggshells.
“Relax.” Derrick squeezed my hand. “It’s going to be a good night.”
“Derrick! How’re you, ‘m boy?” An older gentleman clapped Derrick on the shoulder.
“I’m well,” he said with a smile. “How are you, Mr. Deputy Mayor?”
“Better now that the cold’s moved on,” the deputy mayor said. “You can take the boy outta Texas, but you can’t take Texas outta the boy, even after a couple decades.” He turned to me. “And who is this beautiful young lady?”