Page 46 of The Bourbon Bet
“She’ll do it,” Paige says. “Just tell us where and when.”
“Paige!” I sputter through my laughter. Looking at Sebastian, I ask, “When is it?”
“Saturday.”
“ThisSaturday? Today’s Wednesday. My store is open every day until the gala. And while I don’t mind closing early—I can stay open a little later on Sunday—how will I find a dress or book a hair appointment in such a short time?”
“Do these questions mean you’ll go?” My lingering ambivalence vanishes at the happiness in his voice.
“Yes, but there’s no way I’ll find a gown in two days. Plus, my store’s open both days until most dress shops close.”
“I’ll take care of that. Hanna will schedule a Saturday morning appointment at the dress boutique where most women buy their gowns. Let me know your favorite colors; they’ll set them aside for you to try on. The same goes for hair and makeup. Hanna will book a spa for anything you and Paige want done. “ He pulls out his phone. “I’ll call—” His cell rings, and a slight frown touches his perfect lips. “I have to answer this and get to a meeting, but I’ll call Hanna in between.”
He nods goodbye while answering the call. I watch him leave, rocking on my heels. Why had I agreed to go? Galas aren’t for women like me. And why is my pulse sprinting because I get to spend an entire evening with Sebastian?
I turn to Paige. “What just happened?”
“You’re going to the ball, Cinderella.”
I bite my lip, my gaze dropping to the counter. “Because of my damn deal with Thorne I should be looking at my time with Sebastian as a business arrangement, but I can’t. It feels like so much more. What if I’m making a mistake by going with him? What if I end up hurting him?”
Paige shakes her head, her expression softening. “Rose, it’s okay to have feelings for him. If you find another way to save your bookstore, he’ll never have to know about your deal with his brother. And, maybe for now, don’t be afraid to embrace the magic of the moment. Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. You deserve to feel like Cinderella for one night.”
I nod, but I don’t agree. I can’t help but wonder if the fairy tale will disappear when the clock strikes midnight, leaving me with nothing but a broken heart.
And if I hurt Sebastian, that’s exactly what I deserve.
ChapterTwenty
Rosalia
Sebastian’s driver, Tom, hits the hazard button on the Bentley, then comes around to the sidewalk and opens the car’s door. Paige exits, and I follow. Tom retrieves my gown from the front passenger seat, and I open my arms like I’m going to hug it. I should tamp down my enthusiasm, but I love my gorgeous red dress.
Tom shakes his head. “I’ll carryit inside, ma’am.”
“What about the car?” I glance at the congested road. There hadn’t been a spot, so he parked in front of the elegant salon, blocking a lane of traffic.
“I’ll only be a minute.” He grins. “And it’s not like anyone will ticket a Blackstone vehicle.”
Paige leans close. “What do you think that feels like, wielding that kind of power?”
“Probably powerful. And it explains the Blackstone brothers’ arrogance.”
“True,” Paige says, stepping through the spa’s automatic door. “But after today, it’s difficult to dislike a particular Blackstone.”
That’s the truth. After agreeing to help Thorne, I’d kind of hoped spending time with Sebastian would reveal the coldness and pretentiousness I’d read so much about online and in the gossip papers. No such luck.
Inside the salon is like another world. The outside noise evaporates when the doors close. The only sounds are the gentle, trickling water from a nearby fountain and soft, ambient music. “This top-tier treatment is something else,” I mutter.
When we arrived at the dress shop, a salesperson was waiting for us. She took us into a dressing room as big as my entire apartment. Waiting for me were gowns in red, black, and sage lined up on a rack, along with an assortment of refreshments and snacks.
I glance at the garment bag Tom is handing to the man at the spa’s front desk. My pulse shudders and then races. The crimson dress is exquisite, but what if the bold color and style are too much for an elegant gala?
Tom tells me he needs to pick up Sebastian’s tux and deliver it to his office. He instructs me to call or text when I’m finished at the spa.
“You’re delivering his tux to the distillery?” I ask.
“He’s working until the party.”
