The Wager

Chapter Eight

“It’s brown.” Char blinked a few times at her reflection in the mirror. “Why is the dress brown?” Had she really taken a sick day in order to go shopping and feel fat and depressed in a bridesmaid’s dress?

“Because that’s the color, dear.” Grandma Nadine sipped on her champagne and tilted her head. “But it is atrocious. Do you think Kacey was confused about the color?”

“God, I hope so.” Char shuddered at her reflection. The dress was an awkward brownish orange, as if it was a tree turning colors in the fall but had forgotten exactly what color it was supposed to be turning into and just decided on ugliness as a last resort. It was strapless and form-fitting until it hit her hips, and then it flared out so wide that she looked like a poor excuse for Marie Antoinette.

If this was what that poor woman had been forced to wear, no wonder she was beheaded. Char sighed as Grandma pulled out her cell phone.

“Kacey? It’s Grandma.” She yelled into the phone so loudly that Char jumped half a foot. “Kacey! I can’t hear you! Oh wait, just wait.” Grandma stood and walked over to the window. “Yes? Is that better? Oh, lovely, I say this gown would look fantastic on you, Char! Come over here.”

Not really given a choice, Char shuffled over to the mannequin in the window. “It’s a wedding dress.”

“I know!” Grandma put her hand over the mouthpiece. “It would look divine on you! Just try it on! Just this once; go on! I’ll just be a minute.” Grandma shooed her away. “Kacey! Kacey! Sorry, I was talking to your little friend. She’s beautiful by the way and—Oh, I see…”

Char shifted uncomfortably while she searched the racks for the dress in the window. Her fingers came into contact with its delicate silk. It was a beautiful dress. But it wasn’t as if she was getting married. Wasn’t it bad luck or something to try on a wedding dress before you even had a groom?

“Try it on!” Grandma shouted, causing Char to jump. “What a lovely idea, Kacey. Yes. Yes, I understand. Yes. No. No, you let Grandma work her magic. Yes. No. Now, Kacey… Fine. Tell him I’ll take that wager.”

Char paused, hoping if she was quiet enough she could hear what the heck Kacey and Grandma were talking about.

“Try it on! Shoo!” Grandma made a motion with her hand and turned her back toward Char. “You tell Travis it’s a bet.”

Char carefully pulled the silk dress off the rack and went into the dressing room. Oh well, what did she have to lose? She shimmied out of the brown bridesmaid dress and carefully unzipped the white silk wedding gown. It was entirely open in the back, meaning she couldn’t wear a bra. It fastened just behind her neck and dipped somewhat low toward the front. Once it was zipped on the side, she looked in the mirror.

Damn. She was not going to cry. Not over a pretty dress. Sucking in the ridiculous tears, she opened the curtain and stepped onto the platform in front of the mirror.

The dress felt incredible against her bare legs, she swished this way and that and then heard clapping.

“Question,” an irritating male voice said from behind her. Her head jerked up to see Jake’s reflection in the mirror. “Isn’t it bad luck to try on a wedding dress before you even have any prospects?”

Damn him. “No.” Char glared. “It’s not. Besides, Grandma said it was a good idea.”

“Famous last words.”Jake whistled. “Grandma’s also standing in the middle of the window display shouting into a shiny zebra phone as if the person on the other end is on Mars. Not sure I would use her as a solid excuse right now.”

Irritated, Char snapped. “Is there a reason you’re here? I mean other than because you got fired.”

His face paled.

Char grinned triumphantly.

“Vacation…” He coughed. “Actually, I got a text from Travis saying he needed me to pick up a few things for him and get fitted for a tux. So, yes. I’m doing my best man duty.”

“Best man?” Char repeated. Dread made itself permanently comfortable in the pit of her stomach.

“I can tell you’re excited by your perky attitude. Oh wait. Maybe it’s just because you aren’t wearing a bra. My mistake.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Thank you.” He smirked.

Crap, Char wasn’t sure if she should cover her chest or just give him a view of her goodies, flaunting to him once and for all that he’d had her but wouldn’t ever have her again.

His hazel eyes darkened. “If it’s any consolation—I like the dress.”

Char swallowed slowly as he took a cautious step toward her. Why did he have to be so beautiful? His golden brown hair had that glistening wave to it that normal people only saw on glossy magazine covers. His smile was deadly, and right now his eyes, those piercing eyes, were locked on hers.

She licked her lips as he took another step.

The room was suddenly too small, too hot, too everything. He held out his hand to help her off the platform.

She really shouldn’t have taken it. Because the minute her skin came into contact with his—she remembered. The scorching night she’d shared with him had been anything but forgettable. The way his lips felt would be permanently etched in her memory, never to be exorcised.

“Jake!” Grandma peered around the mannequin and yelled. “Help her out of that dress! We have a wedding emergency! Hurry!”

“Right.” Jake released Char’s hand and shook his head as he took a step away. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve helped you out of your clothes, huh, Char?”

And special moment gone.

Ignoring the burning sensation on her face, Char walked into the dressing room and pulled the curtain.

“Don’t you need help?” came Jake’s voice.

“I think I know how to undress myself, Jake.”

“Yes.” His warm chuckle made Char want to smack him. Shivering, she reached for the zipper. “But when I do it, it’s unforgettable. That’s all I’m saying.”

Fine. She’d had enough. Refusing to let him think she was afraid of him touching her, she took his challenge. With a huff Char pulled open the curtain. “Prove it.”

His eyes widened and then a wicked smile curved his lips. “My pleasure.”

The way the man said “pleasure” did really unfortunate things to Char’s body, things that made her re-think her rash decision.

“Where’s the zipper?”

“Aww… can’t find it? That happen to you often, Jake? Can’t find the zipper, where does my equipment go…”

“Oh that, I never have problems with. You should know.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she watched him close the curtain and then do a turning motion with his finger.

She turned around and faced the mirror. Jake placed his hands on her shoulders then ran them down both of her arms. She would not shiver, she would not react!

He placed his hands on her hips, then unzipped the dress. Slowly he ran his hands back up the sides of her body, all the way until he hit just below her breasts. Her breath hitched as he winked at her in the mirror, bypassing her breasts and finding the fastener behind her neck.

Char chewed on her lower lip as she watched him delicately undo the fastener and then held the dress to her body so it wouldn’t fall.

“You have beautiful hair.” He ran a few pieces through his fingers and sighed, locking eyes with her in the mirror.

He wasn’t smiling. Was he seriously paying her a compliment? To her face? Or her reflection?

“I, uhh—”

“It’s just a compliment, Char. Not a proposal.”

She blushed profusely. “Thank you.”

The way he looked at her made her feel naked. And now she remembered why things had gone haywire in the first place. She never knew which Jake she was talking to. The one who had been her friend when she was little, or the millionaire playboy who had no soul.

Char doubted he even knew which one he was. She just needed to make sure she remembered, lest she end up with a broken heart again.

“Everyone decent?” Grandma called from the other side of the curtain.

Jake stepped back and winked. “Unfortunately.”

Char felt her face heat.

“Damn,” Grandma called. “You’ve lost your touch, son.”

“Don’t I know it.” He licked his lips and nodded one last time at Char before stepping on the other side of the curtain.

What the heck just happened?

It took Char a good five minutes to get her jeans on. Her stupid hands were shaking so much she couldn’t pull up the zipper. And that was why men like Jake shouldn’t be free of their cages. It was dangerous, oh so dangerous.

“You ready yet?” Jake called. “Grandma’s pacing.”

“Coming.” Char bolted out of the dressing room, purse in hand. “Okay, what’s the emergency?”

Jake sighed and pointed to Grandma, who was at that very moment twirling in the middle of the store.

“I’m confused. Is she high?” Char examined Grandma as she continued to do the two-step and then twirl, only to stop, stomp her foot, and start over again.

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Jake whispered.

“Hush!” Grandma stopped mid-twirl. “I’ve got it!”

“Funny, I thought she’d lost it,” Char murmured.

“Both of you!” Grandma pointed at them. “You’ll go.”

“Go?” Char.

“Both?” Jake.

“Ah, it’s settled. After all, I have a manicure I simply cannot miss. Here’s the to-do list. Most of these things need to be finished before we leave at the end of the week. Oh, and don’t be late. Madame despises tardiness.” She straightened her long pink scarf and clapped happily. “I’m so glad we’ve figured everything out! Kacey was in such a panic! You’ve both saved the day!”

A groan escaped Char’s mouth before she could stop it.

Jake put his hands out in front of him as if to calm Grandma down, or maybe himself; who knew? “Grandma, we can’t spend every day together figuring out last-minute wedding details.”

“Why ever not?” Grandma paused, concern etched in her brow.

“Because… I’m busy.” He coughed.

“Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t an occupation.”

“Neither is whoring around, and look where that got him,” Char added.

“See what I mean?” Jake pointed back at her. “I can’t even get along with her, let alone plan something. Do you want her death on your hands?”

“You’ll be fine. Besides, Char needs you—after all, she does have a job, and a great one at that. Now, you know how to get a hold of me if you need me.” Grandma jerked her sunglasses out of her giant purse and put them on her face. “Love you.”

The bell on the door jingled as Grandma swept out of the shop, leaving Jake with a list in his hands and Char wondering if it was at all possible to kill a person by staring daggers into their back.