Page 29 of The Text

“Enjoyed meeting you, girls,” I say after returning to the salt mine.

“Do it again tomorrow?” Kathy inquires.

“Sounds fun,” we all chorus and go our separate ways.

I ponder before getting back to my assignment. Lunch was a blast, and the girls made me feel at home. They asked if I was seeing anyone, and I said no. I’m not sure what this thing is between Noah and me. I don’t want to be advertising that I’m dating a Dalton and then have him dump me after his mother’s birthday party. How embarrassing would that be?

Throughout the rest of the day, my mind wanders back to this evening. What will I wear? How will people treat me? What if I forget how to eat?

When quitting time arrives, I scurry from the building so I don’t miss the train.

“Miss Amber!” Noah’s driver is flagging me like he’s a landing signal officer on an aircraft carrier.

I meander his way.

“I’m here to give you a ride,” he says.

“What?”

“Mr. Dalton sent me. I’m to bring you home and wait until you’re ready. Then we are to pick him up before going to his mother’s party.”

“Okay.”

He opens the back door, and I slide in. On the seat next to me are a garment bag from Nordstrom and a shoebox. Must be another present for his mother. How sweet. I stop myself from peeking. None of my business.

As we roll down the street, I continue to glance at the bag and box. The driver catches me in the rearview mirror. “I forgot to tell you, miss. Those are your things.”

Did somebody crank up the heat? “Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I gather myself. “That’s nice.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I refrain from ripping the bag open and tearing the box top off. Now that I know they’re mine, I’ll wait until I get home. Just in case I scream when I look inside.

The driver tells me he’ll be here when I come out. “No rush.”

I scamper to my apartment and go straight to my bedroom. Squeak when I open the bag, squeal when I take out the dress. A floral cross-stitch pointelle by Oscar de la Renta. OSCAR DE LA RENTA!

My legs grow weak, but I continue to stand. Still have to check out the shoes. I handle the box like an explosives expert and slowly crack the lid. My limbs give out, and I sit on the mattress edge, gasping. This is unbelievable. A pair of blackSo Eleonor Bootiesby Christian Louboutin. And they’re just my size. Oh, my goodness.

My phone dings and I let it go. Have to try out the boots. I slip them on and zip them up and pad around the room. My feet are singing. Wish my cousin could see them, but she’s staying at her boyfriend’s. Too bad.

I sit back on the bed and remove the boots. Check my phone. Noah left a text that he has some work to finish up:Meet you at the party.May or may not be late. Just don’t know yet.

Grrr. How aggravating. I’m not excited about going to his parents’ without knowing anyone. Have to rise up, I guess. Maybe he’ll be there in time. And maybe he won’t.

I go to put the lid back on the shoebox and am surprised by a silk bag with drawstrings at the bottom. Can’t believe I missed it when I took the boots out. Blame it on overwhelm.

In the bag is a glittering diamond bracelet with matching earrings. Incredible.

I fumble with the bracelet. Attaching it around my wrist is difficult with trembling hands. I examine it once it’s attached. Exquisite. I take the bracelet off and walk it and the earrings over to my dresser, setting them down. Head to the bathroom for some maintenance. I do a simple up-style with my hair because that’s my favorite look. Reapply some makeup. Not too much, though.

With that done, I waltz back to the bedroom and check the time. Where did it go?

I melt into the dress. It was specially made for me, I can tell. The comfort is unreal. I tug my boots on after that. May never take them off again. I’m certain I could sleep in them.

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