Page 76 of The Havenport Collection

Astrid

N ora: Astrid you are not wearing a pantsuit to the engagement party.

Astrid: Why not?

Nora: Because it’s not a board meeting or a state funeral. When are you going to realize you are gorgeous and have a killer body? Please wear something cute. I’m begging you.

Astrid: I could wear a skirt suit instead…

Nora: Stop it. You’re giving me a migraine.

Emily: Astrid you’re hot. Please take a minute to enjoy it because before you know it you’ll wake up with three kids and will pee a little bit every time you sneeze.

Nora: Emily TMI! We have talked about keeping a lid on your pelvic floor dysfunction.

Astrid: I don’t have any cute clothes.

Cece: Um…we can fix that. Easily.

Nora: I obviously need to take control of this situation. New plan—everyone meet me at my store on Saturday morning. We will have goodies and cute outfits to try on.

Emily: I love a fashion show!

Maggie: I may have to bring my kids.

Nora: That’s fine. I’ll teach them how to make espresso. Give them a useful life skill.

Nora: Don’t be late.

As much as I hated to admit it, girl time at Nora’s store turned out to be a lot of fun. Things had been so strange with Declan since we kissed. It was good to kick back and take a break from obsessing about Declan.

When I arrived, the entire crew was already there, laughing and dancing.

Dante had brought a manicurist from his salon who was doing nails, and he was styling everyone’s hair.

Christian had carried in multiple storage totes of tools and products and they’d set up a makeshift salon in the middle of the store.

Christian had appointed himself fashion police and was supervising us as we tried on different dresses. He was smart, intense, and kind of intimidating, which is why I liked him immediately.

I took a seat on one of the velvet couches, immersed in watching what was going on.

“Where did these come from?” Cece’s older sister, Maggie, marveled, thumbing through gorgeous colorful dresses on a wheeled rack.

“I called in a favor,” Christian said, feigning boredom. “Now strip down and try this one on.”

Maggie looked horrified. “I can’t wear that. I’m not nineteen.”

Christian scrolled through his phone. “Blah blah, I’m tired of listening to you. Put it on your body.”

“Mom. That one is amazing. You need to wear it,” shouted her daughter, Ava.

She was twelve and had a lot of opinions.

True to form, Nora had taught her how to use the espresso machine, and she had been dutifully frothing milk for lattes for the last hour.

She was a cute kid, precocious and sarcastic.

She now sat on one of Nora’s colorful velvet sofas with a book.

Maggie blanched. “I can’t.”

“You have the body for it,” Emily pleaded.

“You mean I have no tits,” Maggie replied, looking at the dress skeptically.

“You said it, not me,” Christian added. “It’s perfect. Just try it on already.”

Maggie came out of the dressing room a few minutes later in a short puff-sleeved black dress with a dramatic deep V in the front.

It hugged all her curves and highlighted her lean physique.

She looked stunning. We all broke out in applause.

I didn’t know her well, but we seemed to have a lot in common, including our love of boring professional clothes.

The last time I saw her she was wearing a shift dress and pearls, so this was a pretty big fashion risk for her.

Ava was jumping up and down. “Mom, you have to get it. You look hot.”

Maggie turned and gave Christian a dirty look. “See. You’re already teaching my impressionable daughter to be obsessed with clothes and appearances.”

“I’m not, Mom. You know I am committed to being a scientist. Just because I can appreciate a nice dress for a special occasion does not mean I’m some superficial brat.” Ava slumped back down on the sofa with her book.

Maggie admired herself in the three-way mirrors.

“I think you look great,” I said.

“I have had a shit couple of months,” she replied. “It might not hurt to remind myself that I used to be young and hot.”

“Correction,” Christian said, “you are young and hot.” He lowered his voice to an almost whisper, “Or at least hot.”

She punched him playfully in the arm. “You got me.”

I was helping myself to another scone when I heard Christian bark, “Elsa. You’re next.”

I spun around. I did not want to be in his fashion crosshairs right now. I was just an observer here.

I took a bite of scone and shook my head. I would just be polite and firm. I wasn’t here for a makeover. I was here to hang out with my new friends.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. I found the perfect thing for you.”

I gave him a weak smile. “Actually, I was going to wear one of my suits. I was thinking about my gray Theory skirt suit. It’s really cute.”

Nora shouted over from where she was getting her nails done, “Will you stop it with the suits? You’re not Hillary Clinton, and even she knows when to leave the suits at home.”

Christian looked at me with genuine pity. I realized that I seemed like a sad workaholic, which I was, but I didn’t want my new friends to think I was that boring.

“Hey, Dante,” he yelled over the chatter, “Elsa here wants to wear a sad business suit to the party.”

Dante whipped around from where he was taming Cece’s wild hair. “Are you crazy? You are going to this party as the date of one of the hottest bachelors in Havenport. You need to show the world what a smokeshow you are.”

“Please don’t ever use that word again,” Nora begged.

Dante rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Cece’s hair.

“Fine,” I said. I thumbed through the rack. I could be adventurous. “How about this?” I asked, holding up a simple black shift with a side slit. “I could rock this.”

Christian shook his head at me. “Nope. I have something special for you.”

He held up a blue sparkly dress. Scratch that. I think it was a shirt.

“Um. No, thank you. I don’t do sparkles.” It was truly the last thing on earth I would ever wear. I was an Ivy League-educated lawyer, not a lounge singer in Vegas, thank you very much.

“Try it on.”

I demurred. I didn’t want to insult him or Nora, but I couldn’t possibly wear that.

“Tough. Get your ass in there now!”

“Yes!” Emily yelled. She had already switched from coffee to champagne. “Try it on.”

I sighed. It was pretty. But I studiously avoided flashy clothes. I had spent my entire life wanting to be taken seriously. And my mother had drilled into my head that sexy clothes, large jewelry, and heavy makeup would not achieve that goal.

Maggie, Ava, and Nora wandered over, curious to see my dress. I had never been one to succumb to peer pressure, but it seemed like a good time to start.

I stepped into the fuchsia dressing room and took off my jeans and T-shirt.

On the plus side, it had long sleeves. I loved sleeves. But it looked like it would barely cover my ass.

I got the glorified shirt over my head and walked out without looking in the mirror. Christian zipped me up and took a step back.

His jaw dropped. “Guys. Look at her.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me. I could feel my face burning.

“Turn around, Astrid,” Nora shouted.

Dante agreed. “Look at yourself, Elsa.”

I turned around to see how bad it was in the three-way mirror.

And…it wasn’t bad? I looked like me. But a glam version of me. It was short, much shorter than anything I’d ever worn before. But the high neckline and long sleeves balanced it out.

It hugged my curves, and my legs looked miles long, even in bare feet.

I thought I would look trashy, but somehow I looked kind of chic.

I felt like a badass. Maybe this cool, sexy woman had always been inside me and I was just needing to let her out.

“This dress was made for you,” Nora said, patting me on the shoulder.

“It’s really short,” I replied.

“No, it’s normal length, you just have insanely long legs.”

It had been so long since I had dressed up and taken the time to care about my appearance.

I spent years dressing myself on autopilot—grabbing something clean from my closet and pulling my hair into a ponytail.

I had no time to take care of myself, no time to shop or get my nails done or hang out with girlfriends.

I wore black because it was easy and professional.

It had been a long time since I put something on and felt pretty.

Dante came over and started playing with my hair. “So I’m thinking a high ponytail to show off her long neck and maybe some big statement earrings.” He wasn’t even talking to me as I stared at my reflection.

“Good call,” Christian replied. “You have incredible style.”

“Thanks, babe.” Dante reached up on his tiptoes to peck Christian’s cheek. Damn, they were really cute together. And they were both so generous to me, a virtual stranger. Forcing me out of my comfort zone and making me feel beautiful.

Emily came over and admired my dress. “This feels like the moment when Elsa lets her hair down and sings “Let it Go.”

I still hadn’t seen the movie, so I had no idea what she was talking about. She walked away belting out some song lyrics so I don’t think she cared.

Staring at myself, I couldn’t deny the dress worked. But the real question was, would I have enough courage to actually wear it?

A few hours later Declan and I arrived at the party. It was frigid outside, but the interior of the brewery was warm and welcoming. From the outside it looked like an old warehouse. The inside, however, was a completely different story.

Soft lighting highlighted the industrial feel, and large leather couches and chairs were clustered around a huge brick fireplace. The live-edge bar gleamed as bartenders filled drink orders. A band was setting up on a small stage in the corner.

“This place is amazing,” I said, handing Declan my puffy coat. The brewery was industrial chic but homey. I could see why people loved hanging out here.

“Declan?” I repeated, turning around to see where he was.

He stood there staring at me. No, not staring, ogling me.

“What?” I asked, annoyed with him.

He tilted his head. “You. Your dress. You look…”

I raised an eyebrow.

He coughed and recovered his composure. “You look beautiful, Astrid.”

I smiled. Was it wrong that I enjoyed having the power to make him speechless?

“You clean up pretty well yourself.” I smoothed the lapels on his charcoal suit and admired how good he looked.

I had never pictured Declan in a suit before.

It seemed totally antithetical to his personality, but it looked like it was made for him.

He wore a crisp white shirt with no tie, and his beard was neatly trimmed.

His hair was pulled back in its usual man bun, highlighting his strong jaw and full, sensual lips. Lips I was dying to kiss again.

After hanging up our coats, he offered me his arm. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please,” I replied, looping my arm through his.

The party was in full swing, with people milling around everywhere.

We found Cece and Liam by the bar. Cece looked luminous, and Liam could not take his eyes off her.

They were so in love it radiated off them in waves.

Every few minutes, Liam would brush a curl out of Cece’s face or stealthily grab her ass when it seemed like no one was watching.

They were purely and unabashedly in love, and I found myself feeling strangely sad.

Not because I was jealous, but because I had never even considered that what they had found together could be possible for me.

I had never stopped working long enough to picture what my life would be like with a soulmate.

I just assumed I would stay single or marry another distracted lawyer someday.

I didn’t even consider this type of world-altering love.

To be fair, it’s not like I had seen it many times. My parents could barely stand each other, and I didn’t have many other relationship role models. Marriage always seemed to me like a practical choice you made after careful consideration and planning.

But with Liam and Cece, it was like they couldn’t not be married to each other. They couldn’t wait another minute to join their lives forever. And instead of being nauseated, it filled me with a warm, happy feeling.

Declan put his arm around my waist, and I rested my head on his shoulder. Was that kind of love even possible for me?