Page 68 of Committed to You

“We aren’t together.”

“Did you ask him to come?”

“No.”

“He knows about your award?”

I shake my head.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Mama, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Not here.” I’m blinking back tears, and I don’t need my makeup running down my face.

She puts her hand on my cheek. “Okay. But we’re going to talk about this at Sunday dinner.”

I let out a big breath. “All right.”

She hugs me, and we go our separate ways.

I’m running later than I anticipated and only have a half hour until I need to leave when I get to my apartment. My speech is on the table, and I grab it so I can read through it while getting ready. As I review it, my nerves are jumping all over.

Public speeches are not my jam, and I’ve been told I have to speak.

I put my dress on and spend several minutes reaching around my back, but the zipper gets stuck halfway up my back.

Tears run down my face. My phone is in the other room, and I walk out of my bedroom so I can text the girls that I need someone to come over and help me, hoping that they can stop.

I’m reaching into my purse, sniffing back tears when there’s a knock on my door. I don’t even look through the keyhole. I open the door.

Wearing a black tux, with the same red as my dress on his bowtie and handkerchief, is Chase.

I stare at him speechless.

His smile turns to a frown, and he pulls me into his arms. “Vivian, what’s wrong?”

I cry harder.

He pulls me tighter and kisses the top of my head. “Shh.”

“What are you doing here?” I squeak.

“Hoping I can be your date.”

“My zipper is stuck.”

“Let me fix it, then.” He unwraps his arms and spins me. Moving my hair off my back, he jostles with the zipper and pulls it to the top. “Problem solved.” He replaces my hair and turns me back around.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

He brushes tears away with his thumbs. “You look stunning.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask again.

“I told you, hoping to be your date.”

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