Page 123 of Valentine Nook
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” I shake her knees, still tucked firmly into her chest. “C’mon. It’ll be an adventure.”
I can see she’s not buying it, but I don’t want to tell her I know how she feels. That I’m not ready to give her back. That I’ve fallen in love with her. Because I saw her face when Marcy told her about the role she’d been offered and how happy she was. I’m not taking that from her. I’m going to show her I’m as excited as I could possibly be.
For once, I’m not going to be the worst liar in my family,because telling her how I feel amounts to nothing but selfishness on my part when the world is waiting for her to return.
I lean in and kiss her. “Okay, I’m going to get dressed and head to the yard before someone sends out a search party.”
I’m almost at the closet when she calls me back, her voice barely audible. “Lando, what if this is all it was supposed to be? A summer fling. Temporary.”
“It wasn’t,” I tell her firmly.
This time, I’m not lying.
I refuse to believe that something temporary could make me feel like my heart is breaking.
CHAPTER 25
Holiday
“What d’you think of this?”
Spinning around, I find Clemmie standing in front of the mirror, wearing a full-length, strapless black-and-white gown. She has one hand holding her hair up and away from her neck, and the other is deep in a pocket—a detail I’m a huge fan of.
She looks stunning.
I walk slowly around her—examining the structure, the weight of the material, the cut—with the meticulous eye I’ve refined over years of being dressed by professionals.
“I love it.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Yes. Absolutely. It’s beautiful. So are you.”
She glances at me through the reflection in the mirror. “Would you wear it?”
“Definitely.”
She twirls. The heavy asymmetrical hem billows around her, and she looks every inch an English lady, tall and regal with perfect cheekbones and a nose I know plenty of women would beg their surgeon for. She’s made for the red carpet.
“I’m going to take it. I’ll have a masquerade mask made to match.” She splutters with a giggle. “Can’t say that five times in a hurry.”
“You should. It really suits you.” I smile my best smile at her, teeth and everything, trying to make it reach my eyes because she really does look incredible. “And who doesn’t love a dress with pockets?”
“I know. It’s what swings it for me,” she replies, stepping back into the dressing room.
I turn back to the rack of sweaters I was flicking through.
It won’t be long before the calls begin, requests to dress me ahead of awards season, and that’s without knowing whether I’ve been nominated again. If I have, the calls triple. My stylist will manage everything. She’ll whittle it down to five designers and five designs per ceremony for me to choose from. We’ve worked together long enough now that she knows what I like and what suits me, and I trust her.
But looking at the gown Clemmie’s wearing, I’m picturing myself in it, and Lando next to me in his tux, looking handsome as all get-out. He wouldn’t look anything else, my English duke. He’d turn heads, and he’d cause whispers on the carpet. Everyone would want to know who the hot guy holding my hand is.
Part of me doesn’t want to stay for the Fall Ball because I don’t want to see how good he looks. Then I’ll know exactly what I’m missing out on when I walk the carpets alone.
Because as much as Lando professed he wanted to be my date, I saw in his eyes that they were only words meant to make me feel better. I did the math. I’ll barely have time to come up for air during the next year. And we both know it.
So Lando won’t be next to me on the carpets. I won’t get to take his arm, walk side by side as reporters clamor for my attention, and I won’t feel his hand on my thigh when we take our seats.
