SUSAN MEIER - One Winter's Night - The Twelve Dates of Christmas / Frozen Heart, Melting Kiss / A Cadence Creek Christmas

“That sounds almost as promising as my job interview. Maybe more promising because you could get a couple of prospects.”

The comment eased away the little bit of confusion Eloise had had about this deal. Ricky was Olivia and Tucker’s friend. He hadn’t made a pass. He’d made a deal. She liked deals. She liked giving something to get something. She absolutely hated charity.

So she’d try this, giving him one date to prove himself. And if he didn’t, she’d end it.

This did not have to be something to stress over.

He called around ten o’clock, apologetic because the first party he needed her to attend with him was that night.

“Already? It won’t even be December for two days.”

“My friends start early.” He paused, then said, “Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s fine. It might be Saturday, but I don’t date and I don’t have enough money to go out myself.” She winced, realizing how pathetic she sounded. “I meant that to be reassuring, not whiny.”

“Yeah. I got it.”

“So what time will you pick me up?”

“Around eight.” He hesitated, not sounding any more sure of this weird arrangement than she was, then added, “This party is being thrown by my banker.”

“Any idea how I should dress?”

“I think the same way you did for Tucker and Olivia’s party.” He paused. “You looked nice.”

The simple compliment gave her far too much pleasure. She shook it off. “Thanks. But that was a cocktail dress. If this event is formal, I may need to wear a gown.”

“It’s black tie at the Waldorf.”

“I’m wearing a gown.”

“Fine. But don’t be waiting in the lobby of your building. Let me come up. I don’t want my driver telling his other driver buddies that I make my dates meet me on the street.”

She hadn’t wanted them to get too personal, but the whole point was for this to look real. He was right; it would be odd if she was waiting for him in her building lobby. “Okay.”

She headed back to her bedroom to find something to wear. With twelve cocktail dresses, several ball gowns and just about anything he needed her to wear for any occasion, she had plenty of possibilities. Except everything she owned was out of style.

She pulled a red gown from the rack. She would think bankers would like red... No. No. Green. Like money. With a laugh, she reached for a green velvet gown. It would need tons of updating, but she didn’t care. In the past few years, she’d developed a way with scissors and a needle and thread. She’d gotten so good at refurbishing old clothes that she’d actually bought a secondhand sewing machine so she could make real alterations.

Smiling as she went in search of her scissors, she realized she was really looking forward to going out. She would meet people in a position to hire her. But also she had a reason to dress up. To socialize. Maybe even dance. It would be fun.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun.

As long as Ricky Langley really was a gentleman, this arrangement could be good for a bundle of reasons.

He arrived a little before eight. Still excited, she opened the door, and her eyes widened. She’d forgotten how good-looking he was. Dressed in a tux with a black top coat, he was so gorgeous, so sophisticated, he could have been the king of a small country.

She quickly pulled herself together. His amazingness did not matter. She did not want to be attracted to anybody. She wanted a job.

“Let me get my coat.”

Nodding, he strolled into her apartment, but she didn’t give him a lot of time to look around. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her living space. Actually, she was proud of the fact that she had come as far as she had with absolutely no help. But she was eager to get out the door and go to a party. In a pretty gown. Something she’d made even prettier.

She flipped her cape over her back and walked toward him.

“You look incredible.”

Pride sizzled through her. He wouldn’t have said that if he’d seen this dress five hours ago. “Thanks. I loved this dress when I bought it.” They walked to the door, and she closed it behind them. “So it was fantastic to have a reason to bring it up to date.”

She led the way down the stairs.

“You updated your dress?”

“Yes. I took off the collar and the belt and did a little something to the back.”

“Oh.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You don’t have to worry that I’m going to embarrass you. I don’t have money to buy new things, but I have plenty of old things I can fix or update. And I’ve gotten very good with a sewing machine. No one will even notice that this dress used to look totally different.”

The conversation died, and they stayed silent on the drive to the Waldorf. The building façade had been covered in white lights, which were also woven through the branches of the fir trees standing like sentinels on both side of the entryway.

Memories of the time she’d come here with her parents flooded her. It had been her first formal party, and she was so nervous at meeting her dad’s friends and business associates that she’d sworn real butterflies were in her tummy.

Mind your manners.

Don’t speak unless spoken to.

You are a guest. The daughter of a wealthy man. Your comportment should say that.

The doorman came over and opened the door of Ricky’s limo.

She drew in a breath and let him help her out. That’s when she saw the other attendees. Furs. Diamonds. Hair coiffed to perfection.

She slid her hand down her cape, which looked foolish compared to the furs being worn by the other women exiting limos, and turned to Ricky. “I’m guessing the guy knows a few wealthy people.”

He smiled, motioning for her to walk under the portico and to the steps leading to the hotel. “Expect a camera or two on the way in. A photographer for the society pages will take a shot of everyone in the hope of getting something for tomorrow’s paper.”

She faltered. “Oh.” Her mother might live in Kentucky, but she got all the New York papers so she could “keep up” with her own kind. She lived and breathed the society pages.

Fear shimmied along her nerve endings. She couldn’t seem to make her feet move. She hadn’t seen her parents in five years. Not since they’d disowned her. But if they saw her at a society event with a wealthy man, God only knew what they’d do. Happy she’d finally come to her senses, would they call her? Pretend nothing had happened? And if they did, what would she do? Was she lonely enough, desperate enough, to pretend it was okay that they hadn’t cared that her husband had died and that she was struggling to get her bearings?

She squeezed her eyes shut. Why hadn’t she thought of this?

Ricky’s voice came to her slowly, softly. “You don’t mind getting your picture taken, do you?”

She popped her eyes open. “It depends on where it will end up.”

He took her elbow and guided her up the steps to the entryway. “Probably nowhere. We’d have to be important enough for a society columnist to want to comment on us.”

“And you’re not important?”

Another uniformed hotel employee opened the door and they walked inside. “Last year I was everybody’s charity case. This year, I’m nothing. You’re safe.”

Relief poured through her, but it was short-lived. Not only was she in a dress from five years ago, updated by collar-and-belt removal, but also no one could predict who a society columnist might deem important to write about. If Ricky Langley hadn’t dated anybody in a year, his suddenly appearing with a woman might spark curiosity.

As they walked through the ornate lobby, she saw a camera raised toward her, and as smoothly as possible, she ducked behind Ricky.