Page 66 of Love and Other Champagne Problems

It was beautiful, to be fair. It was a Malstoni, with an elastic-shirred bodice that shrunk at the waist to illuminate the wearer’s silhouette, with little bows that tied at the top of the thin straps. Up close, the fabric had an almost shimmer to it, one that would look lovely in direct sunlight. I dragged the tip of my finger along it, wondering when my mother would’ve bought this.

When I put it on, the Malstoni draped over my body perfectly, almost as if my mother had used my exact specifications. The material was soft against my skin and flowing, the hemline fallingan inch above my knobby knees, exposing the pale skin of my legs. The white, of course, was to give Aaron “bride vibes,” I was sure. It was strappy, showing off my arms, my chest, far, far more skin than I normally ever showed. I craved the comfort of a suit jacket, the security of the fabric.

My phone, which I’d left lying on my bathroom counter, chimed. when I retrieved it, I found a text from my mother, demanding to know where I was.

My stomach clenched, but I smoothed my palm down the front of my dress, imagining that I was smoothing a palm down my nerves. I quickly typed back that I’d retrieve Sumner and then be down.

It was utterly ridiculous how nervous I felt to walk into the event. I didn’t care in the slightest if these people thought me ugly, pretty,whatever—so why did I feel as though I could’ve thrown up? All over the beautiful white gown. My mother would’ve been furious.

Drawing a breath and lifting my chin, I headed out to get my shoes.You’ve got this.

Sumner’s room was only a few feet away from my door, and I stopped in front of his. I hadn’t seen him since last night, and eagerness bubbled in my chest, so much so that I held myself back for a moment. After Mimosa Morning, my mother had made it clear that instead of trying to multitask for events, Sumner was to be my shadow.

That should’ve been the case from the start, but I liked that I’d made her regret a decision.

You’ve got this, I thought again, and knocked.

When the door swept inward, the air in my lungs went with it.

Though I knew Sumner was attending tonight’s event and not working it, I’d still been foolishly expecting him to greet me in his Alderton-Du Ponte uniform. There wasn’t a trace of teal or khaki in sight, nor any denim. When he opened the door, I found Sumner wearing a deep navy suit. He had the perfect frame to wear a suit but not appear swallowed by or stuffed into it, the dark color flattering his complexion and the golden brown of his hair. Ungelled, as always, and tousled over his forehead. His jacket was unbuttoned, but his white dress shirt underneath was fastened up to his throat, missing its necktie.

Sumner in a suit tailored to him was exactly as I’d always expected: breathtaking.

“I know,” Sumner said with a smug air, eyes closed as he grabbed his suit jacket by the lapels and giving the fabric a tug. “Don’t I clean up—” He’d opened his eyes, and when he saw me, his words cut off.

“You clean up very well,” I agreed.

But Sumner didn’t look as though he heard me. His lips parted as his eyes roamed from my face down my body, somewhat mimicking the roving gaze he’d had the night he found me in my nightgown. This time, though, instead of looking away in embarrassment—and flushing—Sumner swallowed hard. I nearly shivered under his stare, the intensity of it enough to feel like a physical touch on my skin.

“What are you wearing?” he demanded, almost sounding accusatory.

I lifted my chin. “What does it look like?”

“Why aren’t you wearing a suit?”

“What’s wrong with the dress?”

“It’s not you.”

Of course it wasn’t. It wasn’t as if it mattered anyway, though, whether or not I was myself for one night. “My mom wanted me to wear it.” I ran my fingers over the bumps in the dress’s fabric, the material soft. It still almost felt like I wasn’t wearing anything, though, like I was going out of the house half dressed. “Mrs. Astor wore a dress the last day I saw her. Even though it wasn’t another suit, I thought she looked stylish. Maybe it’s okay to wear both. Dresses can be pretty, too.”

Sumner didn’t reply, still taken aback by my appearance.

“Unless you think I look hideous.”

“You look beautiful.” He spoke without hesitation, the words almost compelled out of him. An emotion I didn’t recognize knotted in his eyes, and he swallowed hard. “Just like you always do.”

The compliment wasn’t anything world-shaking, but it still warmed me. I had to stop looking at him, stop thinking about how he looked with the expensive fabric stretching over his body. His golden hair was a bit more styled than usual, but he hadn’t seemed to have mastered gelling it back, because some pieces fell over his forehead and into his eyes.

“You’re missing your tie,” I mused with a smile I couldn’t fight; I could feel it light up my face, all because of the man before me.

“I was in the middle of picking one out when you knocked.” Sumner shook his head, almost as ifto clear it. “Your mother brought over a whole suitcase full. It’s something I would’ve expected you to do, honestly.”

A suitcase full of neckties? “This I have to see,” I said, brushing past Sumner and entering his hotel room without further permission.

“Wait,” he called after me, but didn’t attempt to stop me.

Sumner’s hotel room was different from mine. Though his was a suite, it was more of a studio style, with only a half wall separating his bedroom from the rest of the space. His bed, though, mirrored mine. No wonder his alarm was loud every morning; our beds were practically back-to-back. From here, I could see the white hotel stock duvet laid neatly over his bed, but in a way that it was clear he’d done it himself, not housekeeping. His seating area looked much like mine, though with less square footage.

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