Page 31 of Anything For This Love

The next morning,I make my girls fluffy pancakes and scrambled eggs. Chloe inhales her plate and asks for more, but Abby doesn’t finish even half of her food. She didn’t eat much last night either, so she must be hungry.

“You okay?” I ask, hoping she’s not feeling ill.

My voice startles her and she looks up at me, blinking as though she forgot I was sitting there with her.

She gives a wan smile. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’ve barely touched your food. You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“No,I just…” Her voice trails off as she pushes food around her plate with her fork. She lets out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I’m just nervous.”

I scoot closer to her, resting my hand on her back in what I hope is a comforting gesture. “What are you nervous about?” I ask, although I suspect I already know the answer.

“The gala.” She chews nervously on her lip. “I’ve never been to an event like that before and I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t want to embarrass you,” she confesses, lowering her eyes to gaze at her lap.

I place my finger under her chin and lift her face to mine. “There’s no way I could ever be embarrassed by you. How could you even think that?” I ask softly.

“I don’t know,” she huffs. “I’m not from this world. All this high society stuff,” she offers with a wave of her hand, motioning around us, “is way out of my comfort zone.”

I suppress a laugh, not wanting to dismiss her concerns.

“It’s notthatstuffy. Not all the people who attend these functions were born with silver spoons in their mouths. A lot of them came from working class families. They know how to joke and have a good time, but most importantly, they know what it’s like to work for everything they have. No one is going to think you don’t belong or treat you poorly because you live differently than they do,” I assure her.

She relaxes and gives me a grateful smile. I hate that she worries like this. I want her to go with me and be a part of something that’s important to my family, but if she told me she didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t push the issue.

“Besides, it won’t be like a Jane Austen novel where everyone haughtily turns their noses up at you,” I say in a nasally, pretentious voice, purposefully stiffening my posture.

She bursts into laughter, leaning into my side. “Stop it!” she croons through her guffaws. “That was ridiculous.”

“I know, right?” I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close. “You’re going to do great. I suspect you’ll be the star of the show in that green dress.”

“Ugh,” she says with a grimace. “I just want to slip in undetected. I don’t want that kind of attention.”

I wince, knowing I’m about to burst her bubble. “About that,” I begin, scratching the back of my neck nervously.

“Oh, no, what?”

“The press will be there.” Her face scrunches up as though the thought pains her. She’s aware of the article from the gossip blog that posted about my “mystery woman,” but the story seems to have lost traction. There haven’t been any new comments on the original post in days, and no other outlets have shown interest in the story. “They’re always there to take pictures and interview patrons because there are lots of office holders gearing up for elections. They’ll probably try to talk to my father, so we should be able to sneak in under the radar.”

“I hope you’re right.”

I hope so, too.

Chapter Twelve

Jacob

Abby is soakingin the tub when my doorbell rings. We’ve only been home an hour after a day full of adventures with Chloe. We took her to a family fun center after breakfast, then grabbed lunch before heading to the Smithsonian where we spent the afternoon.

“Come right in,” I instruct Veronica, opening the door and ushering her inside. Her timing is perfect. I think Abby will be surprised and relieved to have a skilled cosmetologist help her get ready for the gala this evening. Maybe it’ll even help her relax a bit. She’s been a little wound up over the event. I’ve wondered a few times if she would back out, but so far she hasn’t. She knows this is a part of my life – an important one, since the whole purpose is to raise funds for a charity organization I’m passionate about – and she’s willing to set aside her reservations to attend with me.

Veronica thanks me and rolls her cart full of supplies into the foyer. “Would you like me to carry that upstairs for you? She’ll be getting ready in my room.”

“That would be great. It’s quite heavy.”

I bend down to pick up the case and quickly realize she wasn’t kidding. This thing must be packed full of every cosmetic product known to man. I carry it up to my room, nearly losing my balance on the stairs once or twice. My face is damp with perspiration by the time I set it on the floor in the hallway and wheel it into the bedroom.

I grab the pile of clothes Abby laid on the bed and head toward the bathroom, knocking before I open the door. Placing the clothing on the counter, I sink down on the edge of the tub. “I have a surprise for you when you get done in here.” One eyebrow lifts in intrigue. “Just make sure you’re dressed before you walk through that door,” I instruct, motioning toward the adjoined bedroom.

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