Page 17 of Vicious Arrangement
“Hi, Gramps, what’s up? I’m still coming to dinner on Sun?—”
“Aria, I just heard back from Noah. I’ll text you the details for dinner tonight for the two of you. And if you change your mind, let me know. I’ll deal with it, darling girl.”
“No, it’s good. Love you.”
I hang up. Who the hell is Noah and what dinner?
I manage five steps before I falter, and it’s like a shot of adrenaline to my system.
Oh, fuck.
Noah.
As in Noah Templeton, the man I told Gramps I’d marry. Shit.
My insides clench, but it’s nothing compared to the flare of heat when my phone buzzes once.
Gramps:7 pm. Wolf’s Bane in Greenwich Village. It’s followed by a phone number for Noah.
Shit. I call Katie in a panic. “Can you meet me? That monster of a man, Noah has decided to have dinner tonight and just got a reservation at one of the coolest restaurants below Fourteenth Street. And I don’t have time to shop. I need a dress.”
She squeals. She actually squeals. “I’ll meet you at your place in twenty minutes. Be showered and ready to throw on a dress and jump in an Uber. Got it?”
“Wait, I just need something simple. Black will do, but pretty and worthy of that place. I don’t have anything that says date but expensive dinner.” I wore my one good dress out to her birthday dinner, which is why it’s usually at work in my locker for emergencies.
But it’s in a ball on my floor waiting for a visit to the dry cleaners.
“One totally hot dress coming up.”
Crap. I roll my eyes and just mutter, “hurry up or I’ll put you on Angus duty.”
“Are you kidding? I love Angus!”
I get home and jump in the shower. My hair takes a few extra precious minutes to blow dry into some semblance of tameness, and I slap on some makeup.
I’m just pulling on a robe when my doorbell rings.
Angus is a monster and barks like mad as he rushes to the door. He thinks he’s a small puppy and not a big, slightly round chocolate lab.
“Angus, baaabeee!” Katie cries as I open the door holding a dress in a bag up high. She thrusts it at me. “Put it on.”
Then she goes back to hugging and kissing Angus.
I sigh and stomp to the bedroom, aware of the ticking clock in my head. I’m not late yet, so I throw the dress on and then look.
“Katie!”
The dress is gorgeous. It’s stretchy black velvet, which makes the black richer, and it’s got thick straps, almost no back, and it plunges to show cleavage like I’m some kind of femme fatale. And it clings all the way to my hips, flaring mid-thigh a little to give an elegant twist as it flirts as I move, the hem brushing just above my knees.
I need stockings. I need a new dress, but I don’t really have anything. This is the perfect dress that can be dressed up or down and worn to cocktails, dinner or just a nice night out.
“Fuck.” The clock ticks louder, and I put on a pair of pretty heeled sandals.
Katie comes in and claps. “You don’t have better shoes?”
“These shoes are fine.”
“But sky-high heels will be so much better.”
