Page 96 of When Love Is Unexpected

She twirls a couple of times, holding the flowy skirt with her hands, showing off her long, athletic legs.

"This is an A-line, scoop, knee-length chiffon lace cocktail dress with beading."

"You look gorgeous," I say, standing to my feet and walking towards her. "Let me see those earrings,” I say.

She pulls her curls behind one ear and shows me, "These are diamond drop earrings. Do you like them?"

"Yeah, I like them a lot," I say. "Let me get a good look." I touch her ear and trace a line down her neck with my finger before nuzzling her throat, inhaling deeply, trying to memorize her captivating scent.

"You look good, too," she says. "Your face is clean-shaven, and it feels nice against my skin."

"Right here?" I ask, kissing her neck.

"Yes," she says. "Right there."

***

When we walk into the venue, heads turn, and they're not turning for me. Laila's beauty commands the room, and what makes her even more beautiful is the fact that she doesn't even realize it.

"I'm nervous," she says. "Are you sure this dress is okay? I feel underdressed."

"Trust me; they're not staring because they're judging your dress," I assure her. "They're looking because you're drop-dead gorgeous."

We find a few of my buddies sitting together, and they've saved us some seats.

"You look beautiful," I hear one of the women say.

"Thank you," says Laila, instantly relaxing her grip on my arm.

"See," I say. "I told you so."

I watch Laila relax and let her guard down as time goes by. The women at our table are friendly and seem to have a lot in common with her. Within a few minutes, they're all engrossed in conversation, exchanging stories about love, life, careers, and children. Laila gushes about Tori, Jon, and Holly. She shares that she's looking forward to being in the room with Katherine when baby Adam is born. I watch in awe how her sweetness draws people in.

During dinner, the friendly chatter continues. I'm talking to my friends about the perks of freelancing in my chosen career. I tell them about Greece, the art studio in New York, Emma's wedding, and how my family is doing.

When the dancing begins, I reach for Laila's hand, "May I have this dance?"

It seems like everyone's on the dance floor—one song after another. No one goes back to their seats.

Laila is laughing and enjoying herself as much as I am. I dance with some old friends, all of whom love Laila, as soon as they meet her.

I'm dancing with Kim right now, and I can see Laila from the dance floor. She's sitting at our table, talking to my friend, Jim, who I know is divorced. Then, they approach the dance floor and begin dancing to a slow song.

"Have you seen Tricia?" Kim's question refocuses my attention back on her.

"No," I say. "I didn't realize she was here."

"She's sitting over there," Kim says, "Look. She's giving us the evil eye."

I look over Kim's head and lock eyes with Patricia. She's cross-legged, wearing a long red party dress that slits up to her thigh.

When I saw her at the park, she wanted to talk. I told her I was there with my date and there wasn't anything to talk about.

"You owe me that much," she said.

"I owe you nothing," I replied.

"Does she know about me?"

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