Book 1 - Page 64 (1/2)

He caught me looking at it. ”What? You still don't like my tie? I think it works well with the emo jeans and my lounge lizard jacket.”

”Cary” - my lips quirked - ”you can wear anything.”

It was true. Cary could pull any look off, a benefit of having a sculpted rangy body and a face that could make angels weep.

I set my hand over his restless fingers. ”Are you nervous?”

”Trey didn't call last night,” he muttered. ”He said he would.”

I gave his hand a rea.s.suring squeeze. ”It's just one missed call, Cary. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything serious.”

”He could've called this morning,” he argued. ”Trey's not flakey like the others I've dated. He wouldn't have forgotten to call, which means he just doesn't want to.”

”The rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I'll be sure to take lots of pictures of you having a great time looking s.e.xy, cla.s.sy, and cool to torment him with on Monday.”

His mouth twitched. ”Ah, the deviousness of the female mind. It's a shame Cross won't see you today. I think I got a semi when you came out of your room in that dress.”

”Eww!” I smacked his shoulder and mock-glared when he laughed.

The dress had seemed perfect to both of us when we'd found it. It was cut in a cla.s.sic garden party style - fitted bodice with a knee-length skirt that flared out from the waist. It was even white with flowers. But that's where the tea-and-crumpets style ended.

The edginess came from the strapless form, the alternating layers of black and crimson satin underskirts that gave it volume, and the black leather flowers that looked like wicked pinwheels. Cary had picked the red Jimmy Choo peep-toe pumps out of my closet and the ruby drop earrings to give it all the finis.h.i.+ng touch. We'd decided to leave my hair loose around my shoulders, in case we arrived and learned that hats were required. All in all, I felt pretty and confident.

Clancy drove us through an imposing set of monogrammed gates and turned into a circular driveway, following the direction of a valet. Cary and I got out by the entrance, and he took my arm as my heels sank into blue-gray gravel on the walk to the house.

Upon entering the Vidal's sprawling Tudor-style mansion, we were warmly greeted by Gideon's family in a receiving line - his mother, stepfather, Christopher, and their sister.

I took in the sight, thinking the Vidal family could only look more perfect if Gideon was lined up with them. His mother and sister had his coloring, both women boasting the same glossy obsidian hair and thickly-lashed blue eyes. They were both beautiful in a finely wrought way.

”Eva!” Gideon's mother drew me toward her, then air-kissed both of my cheeks. ”I'm so pleased to finally meet you. What a gorgeous girl you are! And your dress. I love it.”

”Thank you.”

Her hands brushed over my hair, cupped my face, and then slid down my arms. It was hard for me to bear it, because touching was sometimes an anxiety trigger for me when the person was a stranger. ”Your hair, is it naturally blond?”

”Yes,” I replied, startled and confused by the question. Who asked a question like that of a stranger?

”How fascinating. Well, welcome. I hope you have a wonderful time. We're so glad you could make it.”

Feeling strangely unsettled, I was grateful when her attention moved to Cary and zeroed in.