No Pink Caddy (ACE Book 1) (13 page)

“Tripp is so cute and rich,” she gushes. “I mean who’d have guessed the silly, awkward kid from college would grow into such a handsome businessman.”

I glance at Tony who just looks bored. I don’t blame him.

With no response from me, Jeannie keeps going. “Have you heard who is supposed to be here tonight?”

I take a swig of my drink. “Who?”

She looks over both shoulders before she whispers, “Johnny Knite.”

I spit my drink all over the front of Tony’s tux. It’s epic and looks like a skit from
Saturday Night Live.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry!”

“Are you okay?” he asks as I fake cough, and he uses his hands to wipe his tux.

“Went down the wrong pipe,” I reply while hitting my breast bone.

Out of nowhere, a waiter appears with a stack of napkins. Jeannie and I grab handfuls and begin sopping up my mess. Fortunately, Tony is good-natured and laughs it off.

“So anyway,” Jeannie continues, as if the whole coughing and spitting fit didn’t happen. “He’s supposed to be in town working on his new album. Rumor has it that he’s gotten out of rehab and lost his mojo. Like he writes music but has some sort of mental block against lyrics so he’s come to New Orleans, looking for inspiration.”

Her words ping-pong in my head.
Rehab?
I guess rehab was one of the things Aaron wanted me to find out about him. Does that scare me? I do a quick gut check and realize it really doesn’t.

She keeps going. “All I know, girl, and sorry, Tony, is that man is number one on my list. He’s so damn sexy and talented.” She uses her hand to fan herself. “Wow. Need a cold shower just thinking about it.”

“Excuse me.” I turn around as my eyes sweep across the crowd. I’m searching for a fedora but spy none. Is he coming?
How did he get invited
is a better question. Grandmother wouldn’t invite famous A-list actors who’ve made New Orleans their home.

I make my way through the crowd and up to the bar since my last glass of champagne wound up on Tony. I need to do something with my hands so I decide to fill one with a glass of alcohol. Desperately, I want to text him and see if he’s coming, but then again, why didn’t he tell me he was invited? Does he know I’ll be here tonight—that coming here was my plan and Tripp was my date? Grandmother does have a different last name than mine.

“Chardonnay, please,” I tell the bartender.

He fills a glass and hands it to me complete with a cocktail napkin that matches my dress.

Slipping back into the crowd, I try to distract myself by visiting with Grandmother’s and Mother’s friends. They all ask the same questions: Are Tripp and I engaged yet? How’s MKPinkCaddy? I have to correct and remind them it’s actually NoPinkCaddy. I can thank my mom for their slip-ups, and apparently my mom has shared the fact that I’m thinking of opening a store on Magazine Street. While the thought has entered my mind, I don’t have near the capital to do it.

I’m extremely flattered, though. The support I have for my website is amazing. More and more, I’m believing it’s time to see if I put my full-time efforts behind it if I can make it into something more. But I’m terrified. I’m already considered the Landrys'
other
daughter. The one who is still single and has an average job. I’ve heard my mother’s friends console her, saying things like
what a pity she hasn’t found someone.
I can’t imagine the talk behind my back if I was single and the owner of a failed business.

I spot my sister. Her exaggerated hand gestures tell me she’s passionately explaining why New Orleans needs better and more free medical clinics to the Senator. I hate to interrupt her noble work, but well, I’m going to anyway.

“Excuse me.” I smile my best debutante smile at the two of them. “May I steal Bethany for just a second?”

The Senator makes a sweeping gesture with his hand, and I thank him as I pull her out of earshot. “Did you know Aaron was on the guest list?”

Her mouth puckers in confusion.

“Johnny Knite. Did you know he was invited?”

She smiles. “Your rock star. Grandmother’s party planner said she was sending him an invitation.”

“How did he get on the list? He’s not old money.” I can’t believe he was invited. It seems impossible.

Bethany tilts her head. “Don’t you remember, MK? He’s the one who donated the start-up funds for my organization.”

“You mean the money to fund your doctor house-call project?” It’s like my ears must be filled with water because I can’t believe I just heard her correctly.

“Yeah. I don’t take a salary and neither do the doctors who volunteer. But we still need money to pay for medical supplies and vaccines and medicines. He has an angel foundation. I applied for a grant and he chose my organization, gifting us the money. When I heard he was in town, I asked Grandmother to invite him as a thank you.”

“So when I told you upstairs that I was seeing him, you didn’t think to mention any of this?”

Her hand goes to her hip, and her head turns in the special way she does when I’m about to get lectured. “Gee, MK, I just assumed you knew. This has been my pet project for the last year, and tonight my charity is the beneficiary of all the money raised. It’s just about the only thing I’ve talked about.”

Guess who’s the worst sister ever? This girl! I hug her. “I’m sorry. I just forgot.” Truth is my mother and sister have probably discussed it at length in front of me, but I’d have tuned them out. Usually they talk about stuff I don’t care about, like who’s pregnant and who is having an affair with who. Guess I should have paid attention to this one. I mean, I knew Bethany had received a grant, I just didn’t know where the money had come from. She probably did tell me Aaron was invited, but when she said it Johnny Knite meant nothing to me.

I release her, and she fluffs my hair over my left shoulder. “He’s got issues, as I’m sure you know. But if he makes you happy, go for it.”

The band switches to background music. “May I have your attention please . . .” The bandleader pauses for a moment to let the crowd settle. “And now, let’s all greet Mary Katherine Sovell and her husband Grant, and thank them once again for hosting such a lovely party.”

The double doors swing open and Grandmother and Grant enter, greeting their subjects like my sister and I did. Everyone applauds. Then the band begins playing a waltz and Grandmother and Grant begin dancing, officially opening the dance floor.

A hand rests on the small of my back. I look over my shoulder and see Tripp with a slight smile on his face. He takes my hand, but his touch feels wrong against my skin. I long for callused fingers.

We walk to the edge of the parquet dance floor. Towards the end of the song, my mother and father join in and so do Bethany and Ben. Tripp and I are expected to as well, but as he tries to lead me onto the dance floor, I dig in my heels. Yes, he’s my date for the evening. Yes, I knew he had feelings for me and I probably shouldn’t have asked him to escort me tonight, but I can’t dance with him. What if Aaron is somewhere in the crowd and sees me dancing with another guy? My goal is for Tripp and I to survive this rough patch and truly come out as friends—in both of our hearts. I want to attend his wedding and hold his babies. That won’t happen if I continue pretending to the world that we are a couple. Decorum is just going to have to take a flying leap tonight.

Thankfully, the song ends. Tripp whispers in my ear, “You owe me a dance.”

Turning around, I smile, but through my teeth, I reply, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The tic of his cheek tells me how angry he is, and I flee into the crowd, praying I won’t see him again this evening. I find an unoccupied corner of the room near the side of the stage, needing a moment to regain my composure. The ballroom buzzes with energy. The band plays an up-tempo song, and the dance floor is filled. People smile and laugh. Drinks flow. The food doesn’t seem to be touched, which will probably mean there will be some drunken antics later.

My grandmother works the room like the professional entertainer she is. Mom always says I get my love for decorating and cooking from her. She’s so much bolder than I am, though. She loves to be the center of attention. I like to hide behind my keyboard.

Something catches my eye—or should I say someone. The molecules of air shift around him. It’s as if Moses himself has parted the sea of people. All heads swivel to the set of double doors in the back of the room. I can’t see what’s happening, but the butterflies in my stomach begin beating their wings in anticipation of seeing him.

Grandmother walks through the parted crowd to greet Aaron. He kisses her hand, so suave, and walks to my sister, giving her a hug. I’m watching the man my body reacts to interact with my family. It’s surreal.
Does he know I’m here? Did I scare him off this morning?
I’m paralyzed with doubt.
I’m a nobody
—
certainly not a model or actress. Why would he be interested in me?

But he’s here, greeting your family, and they seem charmed by him.

As he moves farther into the room, he’s mobbed, mostly by women. I’m finally able to see what he’s wearing and it’s rock star chic. Black tux jacket with a black shirt. His pants are conservative but tight-fitting—much tighter than anyone else’s in the room. His long hair is gelled and swept back from his face. He wears black boots. Hot damn, that man is handsome. My tongue sweeps across my lips in appreciation.

I fidget with the sequins on my dress, not knowing what to do. I don’t want to rush to greet him like a fangirl, but I also want all the ladies in the room to know he spent last night in my bed—if he still wants me.

I’m so busy obsessing, I miss Tripp approaching to my right. Before I can protest, he grabs my hand, dragging me to the dance floor. “We’re dancing.” He doesn’t ask my permission.

My feet move but it’s against their will. “Tripp, I think we need to stop the speculation that we’re dating.”

“You owe me,” he growls under his breath. “It will look bad if we don’t dance together.”

He walks us to the center of the floor, picks up my arm, and wraps it around his back. His hand rests just above my behind.

I gulp and look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please don’t do this.”

“Don’t embarrass me, MK,” he warns with such venom that a shiver passes down my spine. I’ve known Tripp long enough to realize that these are his hurt feelings talking. He’s trying to save face and doesn’t know how to deal with my rejection. If he’s honest with himself, he’ll realize that what I said is true—we’re just friends.

We start moving together, but I know how stiff I must look. It’s awkward. I remember the clumsy make-out session and the words he said to me. There’s not a doubt in my mind this is not my future. “Please stop. Everyone can tell how I feel about you.”

Bella is wrong.
Practical
is not a word which should ever be used when determining if someone is right for you.

“Then pretend better,” he commands through a tight smile.

My heart breaks. I know that after tonight, I may have lost one of my lifelong friends. Tripp and I can be polite at social gatherings, but it’s too painful to do this to me or him any longer.

Tears slip out of my eyes and run down my cheeks as we move farther into the dance floor. “Tripp, this isn’t you,” I plead. “You don’t love me. You love the idea of me. Please . . .”

“Excuse me,” an authoritative voice says over my shoulder.

I stop dancing while Tripp tries to compel my feet to move by kicking them with his shoe.

“May I cut in?”

I look into Aaron’s sculpted face and twinkling eyes and melt. “Yes! That’s a good idea.” My breath catches in my throat, and my heart beats double-time.

I look into Tripp’s narrow, hurt eyes. “You’re my best friend. You’ll always be. But let me go.”

His eyes cut away from mine and meet Aaron’s. He’s looking for a fight. My gut tightens, and I plead with God to not let this end in a brawl on Grandmother’s parquet dance floor.

Aaron’s cocky smile, the tic of his jaw, and his rolled back shoulders communicate clearly that Tripp needs to back off. Glancing around, I notice the other dancing guests have stopped, and everyone stares at us. I pray Tripp walks away. He’s shorter and stockier than Aaron. If they actually decide to punch each other out, I’m not sure who would win.

I swallow hard as I turn Tripp’s head to meet my eyes. “Please. You didn’t want me to make a scene but now you are. Look around us.”

His eyes don’t leave mine.

“I assume this is the guy you’ve gone on two dates with.” Tripp’s tone is sharp.

Nodding, my stomach sours. “I’m sorry. Please know I never wanted to hurt you. You’re my best friend.”

“Why did you invite me if you knew he was coming?” Tripp asks. Fortunately, Aaron is staying out of this, but he hasn’t moved from his spot.

“I didn’t know then that he was invited and even if I had, I’d still have come with you. It would have been rude to cancel at the last minute.”

Tripp shakes his head and pumps his fist. “Maybe you should pull your head out of your ass, MK. No one will ever love you like I can,” are his parting words as he walks away.

A bit of my childhood memories fade to black and white. I watch the person who taught me how to fish and had my back every time someone was mean to me disappear into the sea of people.

I stand there watching him go, wondering if we’ll ever be friends again.

“MK, dance with me.” Aaron grasps my hand as we wrap our arms around each other’s bodies. I’m like warm butter in his arms, molding against his lean frame. A slow song begins and I recognize the first notes of “What A Wonderful World.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were invited?” My head rests on his chest as I inhale the scent of cinnamon. Fortunately, everyone on the dance floor begins dancing, and we’re being somewhat ignored.

His warm breath tickles my ear, causing goose pimples to dot my skin. “Didn’t plan on coming until I knew you were going to be here with someone else.” His words are sharp, but honest. For the first time, I think I might be catching a glimpse of unguarded Aaron. This feels a bit surreal. He’s known my sister longer than me, and I randomly met him in a bar. Either that’s a strange coincidence, or Aaron is a bigger stalker than I’d thought—not something to discuss now.