Page 25

Could this night get any better?

Sophie

I had hoped to finish up a job when I came back from Diane’s, but after Remy left, my concentration was gone.

I closed up the shop and headed back to the house.

What did I have in my closet that would work for this party?

If we were going to entice people to bid on the shelter package, I needed to be looking fabulous.

Remy didn’t want to attract attention, so I should. Get people talking.

He assured me he had a suit that would fit in.

All the players would look good, dressed up, so there was going to be a lot of competition for the bids even if they were linked to players.

Animals were a draw when they were cute and small, but rescues would be more like Beast, and they’d need all the help they could get.

Goober snuck in the door with me and followed me to my bedroom. I opened the walk-in doors, hoping something would have magically appeared since I’d last looked through it. No luck.

I had dresses. I hadn’t gone anywhere with Dad in years, but occasionally I went to events with Cash, and he’d always spring for an outfit for me to wear.

I only had a couple, and they were supporting-character garments.

When I’d been on the red carpet with Cash, he’d been the star, and I had no desire to attract attention.

Dad also had strong opinions on what was “appropriate” for his daughter.

But this time I needed to make sure no one missed that I was there.

Damned if I wanted to go shopping tomorrow. But wait…

I crossed through the kitchen up the stairs to the main bedrooms. Cash had a huge walk-in closet with stuff he wore to events. And sometimes…

I opened the door and stepped in. Yes . Sometimes he’d order in clothes for his dates.

He’d ask one of the high-end stores he had accounts with to send several options—my brother had his flaws, but he wasn’t cheap.

Usually extras were sent back, and the women kept what they wore.

But there were a few dresses in here that hadn’t been returned for one reason or another.

There was a black one, more strap than dress, and way too small for me.

One in white with a deep slash in front and such a low back I didn’t think it was possible to wear underwear with it.

I wanted to attract attention, but not for a wardrobe malfunction.

The last one was red. Brighter than I’d normally wear.

I pulled it out and looked it over. It might fit.

Barely. Strapless, tight down to and over the hips, then flowing out to floor length.

Rhinestones were distributed over the bodice and skirt to pick up the light.

It was very much a look at me dress, and while most of the time I preferred to look at others, for this occasion it was perfect.

I hung it up again and pulled off my T-shirt. Wiggled my jeans down my hips. Slid the clear plastic straps off the hanger and pulled the dress over my head. It took a lot of contorting, but I was careful and determined and finally tugged it into place. I checked myself in the mirror and gasped.

I could see my bra clearly, as well as panty lines.

None of my lingerie would work with this—it would require shopping, and probably an updo and some jewelry.

But damn, I looked like someone in this dress.

If I went to the party with Remy in this thing, no one would overlook me.

He’d be shocked when he saw me in this. I pressed my fingers to my lips as I replayed that kiss.

We’d talked and made the sensible decision. Friends, and nothing more. But truthfully, I’d like another kiss. And if a dress could make that happen, this was the one.

I glared at the cat, watching much too closely. “Goober, don’t you dare come near.” I looked back in the mirror, posing on my tiptoes. “Just wait. Remy will have his tongue hanging out like Beast when I show up in this.”

Oh, I’d need to get shoes too. But I was committed now. I took one last look at my reflection and messaged Remy that I’d found a dress and would be ready.

Remy said he’d taken care of transportation and would pick me up at the main house.

Once I was ready, a little early, I set a stool by the front door because I wasn’t sure I could climb into his truck without ripping a seam.

I borrowed a necklace from my latest stepmother and put in earrings Ollie had given me our first Christmas together.

I’d splurged on the shoes and lingerie sufficiently that I refused to spend more money, so I threw a coat overtop that totally covered and spoiled the look.

I would coat check it once we got there.

I stood at the front door, since I didn’t want to crease the fabric more than necessary.

When I heard a vehicle, I checked in the mirror that everything was in place.

Mascara and lipstick hadn’t smudged; hair was staying together…

It would do. I opened the door, surprised to see a limo.

Remy got out of the back. He was wearing a suit instead of a tux, but it was tailored to his hockey player body and emphasized his broad shoulders and trim waist. And his hair—he’d gotten a cut.

It still had length but was shaped to his head.

He had some stubble, but that was groomed as well.

I pressed a hand to my chest to calm my breathing. This was not a date, like a real date. It was an arrangement. But the man cleaned up very nicely.

He crossed to the doorway where I was waiting. His hands were shoved into his pockets, messing up the lines of the suit. “Is the limo okay? I didn’t think the truck was right for a fancy event.”

I was smiling before I realized. “That’s very considerate. I had a stool inside to bring out if I needed help climbing into your pickup.”

“That sounds awkward. And maybe I’m wrong, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Goober showed up and knocked it over at the worst moment.”

My smile grew. We were standing there grinning at each other while the limousine was waiting.

I broke our gaze and Remy held out a hand toward the car. “If you’re ready?”

I walked to the back door of the vehicle, self-conscious in the heels I didn’t normally wear. Remy reached past me to open the handle and I got a whiff of his cologne. I inhaled and swallowed hard. I was being silly. This was not a date.

I deliberately kept some distance from the man as we drove to the arena. I searched for something to talk about since we needed to do more than stare at each other.

“Are you familiar with how this event works?” I asked. I knew in general what these charity parties were like, but Ollie hadn’t been part of the Aces while we were together, and Dad hadn’t brought me along to a fancy party in years.

“I figured it was a regular meet and greet only in more expensive clothes.”

I had my doubts. “The focus here won’t be as much on hockey. Most of these things don’t have a lot of food, and instead lots of people wanting to be seen and photographed, everyone sucking up to the donors who give a lot of money to the teams’ charities.”

He nodded. “Not sure many are gonna want to get a picture with me, but I’ll play nice.”

“I probably know a few of the people who are going to be there—friends of my dad’s. And you know the hockey players, so we should do fine.”

The vehicle halted at the arena, one of the many limos and expensive cars.

Remy exited first and reached out a hand to help me.

We became part of a stream of well-dressed men and women moving to the front entrance.

A coat check was set up, no money charged but donations gladly accepted.

I unbuttoned my coat, and Remy helped me take it off.

For a moment he stood in place, and I thought there must be a problem.

I looked down, then back at him, and realized what it was.

I’d forgotten that I was wearing a dress to draw attention, and wow, it was working.

His gaze was pinned on my body molded by the dress.

I felt goose bumps whisper over my skin.

I was grateful for the physical labor my job involved, since the dress left nothing to hide.

“You look…beautiful,” he said, his voice low, before taking the coat and leaving what looked to be a substantial tip as he got a tag that he passed to me.

The simple but heartfelt compliment did a lot to shore up my confidence. He held out his arm and we joined the line of people heading farther in. I noticed gazes snagging on us, so my plan was working.

The event was held on the arena ice, the surface covered by a wooden floor with carpets laid over top.

There were photos of the team around the boards, and tables set up along the sides with silent auction items. High-tops were scattered throughout the space and servers moved around with champagne and appetizers.

There was a bar at each end, and unsurprisingly, they were busy.

“Can I get you a drink from the bar?” he asked once we were on the floor.

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine with some champagne for now.”

He grabbed a couple of flutes from a passing server and gave one to me.

“The smart move is to say hi to the owner and GM first thing, while everyone is sober and on their best behavior.” I spoke quietly into his ear. With the heels, I wasn’t much shorter than him. “Then I’ll look for any rich people I know and talk up the auction.”

He winced. “I’m not good at that.”

“Can you answer questions about the shelter?”

“Yeah, that I can do.”

“We’ll make it work. Let’s find your hockey people first. Lead the way.”

I took a sip of the champagne and followed Remy to the general manager Chris Ramos and team owner Spencer Cotton.

I knew who they were because of Dad. They were chatting with a group of people, mostly donors from what I could see.

I didn’t know them, but the clothes, the jewelry, the posture—these were people with money. We’d timed it well.