What She Wanted (24 page)

I worked his shirt over his head and privately explored the body I’d long admired.

He returned the favor.

“You’re so beautiful.” His husky voice heated the bare skin below my collarbone.

I squirmed and throbbed in anticipation of what would come next.

I wasn’t disappointed.

Heidi emptied a can of aerosol hair spray around my head. I gagged on the fumes as she twisted and pinned every strand of my hair into vintage perfection. Silver hairpins topped with small pearls lined the fancy updo that accentuated my ostrich-esque neck. With her magical touches, I looked almost elegant. She’d fastened pearl drop earrings to my lobes and insisted I trade my simple black sheath dress for the one her mom sent over.

She stepped back to admire her work. “You look like Audrey Hepburn.”

“Very doubtful.” I approached the mirror I’d attached to my door last summer. “Oh.” The wispy champagne gown had hung shapeless and bland on the hanger but looked strangely perfect on me. I turned left and right, enjoying the tickle of material against my legs. The simple cut gave my narrow waist a feminine shape. Lace edging along the bust hinted at cleavage that didn’t exist. “I’m one big hat and two satin gloves away from a black and white movie poster.”

“Let me finish.” She squeezed between the mirror and me, lifting a liquid eyeliner pen to my face.

“Do not poke my eye out.”

“Shut up and close ’em.”

Her simple coconut body spray reminded me of our countless trips to the lake for sun worship. She always chose one hundred ’block to ward off extra freckles. I just wanted to soak in as many rays as possible before the town was steeped in snow.

“Hold still.” She worked the pen quickly across each lid and against the outside corners. “Okay, now gloss.”

I went to my vanity in search of lip gloss, and Heidi followed. “That’s my face?” The reflection close-up was stunning. “You really are an artist.” I touched a hand to one cheek to confirm it actually was my face.

Heidi aligned her shoulder with mine, sifting through the clutter of makeup she’d used to change my appearance from farm girl to vintage beauty. “I can only accept half the credit. Your face is the perfect canvas, and those legs belong on a runway.”

“Katy,” Mark bellowed up the steps. “The Boy’s here!”

I rolled my dramatically lined eyes. “He calls him The Boy. Dean’s been here nearly every day this summer, lived beside us for nineteen years, and his mother feeds us more often than we feed ourselves.”

Heidi ambushed me with an enormous makeup brush, adding shimmer powder to my collarbone. “If you told him what Dean did to you in the barn, he’d start calling him The Man.”

I didn’t bother hiding the blush or laugh that followed. Dean was most certainly The Man. I had a hot flash on memory alone.

Heidi packed her makeup into a big pink tackle box. “Have you talked to Mark about Joshua again?”

“No. Not since you were here to see him freak out.”

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know. I wanted his blessing, but I don’t think that’s a possibility. I’m just getting through this and plotting my moves. I’ve completed some online applications for community college and researched the online options at bigger universities. If I start somewhere for fall semester, it will be easier to transfer for the next session. I just need his signature for the financial aid applications. I think I can get him to do that for me now.”

“Don’t give up on photography school yet.”

I shook my head, unable to explain to her big doe-eyes how ridiculous it was to hold onto a dream like that.

“Katy!”

“Coming!” I grabbed my clutch and opened the bedroom door.

Heidi slipped her silver stilettos on and flitted down the steps ahead of me. Generous amounts of petal pink material bounced around her calves.

Mark’s eyes stretched wide when I landed on the living room floor beside him and Dean. He frowned.

Dean kissed my cheek. “You look amazing.” His black dress slacks and jacket begged to be removed.

I flipped the end of his tie. “Thank you. You look quite handsome.”

I gave Mark a polite smile. “We’ll be back late. I want to stay and help Sylvia clean up then take my time getting home.” I stopped before my “call my cell if you need me” portion of the good-bye. “What?”

His expression defied explanation. Was he ill?

“You look like your grandmother.” He seemed to force the stubborn words from his tongue. “She had a dress like that once, and she looked just as beautiful.”

He thinks I am beautiful?
“Thank you.”

“Bernadette called several times today.”

“Is everything okay?”

“She was checking on you.”

I hugged Mark. “I’ll give her a call tomorrow.”

“Katy?” Mark’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

Dean squeezed my hand and walked outside with Heidi.

A stupid part of my broken heart hoped he meant it. “For what?”

He ground his teeth and looked at the photo of Mom on the mantel. “Sending Joshua away when you were a baby might not have been the right thing to do.”

My heart swelled. “Yeah?”

“You can’t imagine what that was like for her mother and me. Then, all these years, he’s proved me right.”

My stomach dropped in that weird end-of-an-elevator-ride way. Mark wasn’t apologizing. He was trying to make himself feel better by supporting his decision to separate me from my father. “Right. Well, if you need anything, call my cell.” I concentrated on my friends waiting on the porch. Whatever ugly things had happened in the past, I was feeling better and better about my future.

* * * *

Twinkle lights lined the wall of windows at Essence. A collage of fancy cars and muddy trucks filled the lot and lined the street. I snapped my clutch open to check the time on my phone. Seven thirty. Panic buzzed in my veins. “My invitation said eight. Why are so many people here already? I have to meet with the servers and violinist before we open.”

Dean slid his hand over mine on my thigh. “Babe. My invitation said seven.”

“No. That’s impossible. I planned this. It starts at eight. I drafted the invitations.”

Heidi handed me a silver envelope. “Read it.”

I slid her invitation out and blinked stinging eyes.

You are cordially invited to Sylvia Reynold’s premiere

Home Town Heroes Gala

In recognition of local rising talent

Katherine Reese

Saturday July 12th, 7:00 until 10:00pm

Essence Gallery

The RSVP number was Sylvia’s private cell.

“This isn’t the invitation I wrote.”

The light popped on as Heidi ejected from the truck. “Duh. Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”

I swatted tears off my perfectly powdered cheeks. “You knew.”

She closed the door on me and smiled through the window.

I turned to Dean.

“Don’t be mad.”

“You knew, too?”

He gave me the goofy face I loved. “Everyone in town got that invitation. Everyone knew. Sylvia called personally to threaten me if I told. She also promised this wasn’t the sort of thing you’d hate me for hiding from you. Are you okay?” He hovered his hands near the steering wheel. “We can leave. You don’t have to go inside. I can say it was my fault we had to leave.”

“Hey!” Heidi’s muffled voice eked through Dean’s window. She knocked on the glass. “You’re going in and you’re accepting this attention. Now, get out.”

Dean tented his brows. “She’s bossy.”

“Damn skippy!” she barked.

I nodded crazily. “Okay.”
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
“I’m ready.”
I can do this. I’m making changes. I’m chasing dreams. Living my life.
I climbed down from the truck and Heidi hurried to meet me.

She linked her arm with mine. “Breathe, or you’ll pass out.”

I exhaled a deep breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Dean led us through the crowded lot and opened the large glass door to Essence.

A sea of faces turned our way and smiled.

I stalled, midstep. “There have to be a hundred people.”

Heidi made a little noise. “Mom says closer to three.”

“Hundred?” I screeched.

“Mm-hmm.”

“That’s why you went nuts on the makeup. She delivered this dress.” Obvious details clicked into place. “Did Mark know?”

She nodded and passed me off to Dean. “I’ll get you a glass of champagne.”

I lifted two fingers.

Heidi smiled. “On it like a bonnet.”

The sea of people parted as we moved through the gallery, exploring dozens of photos I’d taken over the years. Small smiles graced the mouths of my neighbors and friends. Strangers nodded as I passed. At the large rear wall, a life-sized image of me with my camera anchored a scattering of my shots in various sizes, frames, and filters.

“I took that one.” Sylvia’s voice startled me. She sashayed to our side and air-kissed Dean’s cheeks. “Your girlfriend’s very talented.”

He tugged my hand, a look of pride on his face. “I know.”

She motioned to the six-foot photo of me at the lake. “You were so engrossed in the shot, you didn’t notice me taking ten for myself. This was the best. That look on your face is pure joy.”

Sylvia Reynolds photographed me.
“I love the lake.”

“You love this town,” she countered. “And they love you.”

I followed her gaze to the masses gathering behind us.

A slow round of applause grew into whooping country hoots and cattle calls.

Dean offered a handkerchief.

I swept it under each eye and tried to breathe.

Heidi returned with two flutes and a wink. “Sparkling cider.”

I sipped the first flute and settled my breath. Blessedly, it wasn’t cider. “Thank you.” I directed the words into the room.

Country music rose from the hidden speakers, normally carrying soft jazz and classical numbers. I recognized the Kenny Chesney number and laughed. Several locals sang along as they helped themselves to the hors d’oeuvres buffet and examined my photos.

I drained the flute and traded Heidi my empty one for the other.

“Here they are,” Sylvia cooed.

Mr. Montgomery and a gorgeous silver-haired woman approached.

Sylvia made the introductions. “Katy, this is Anna Montgomery. You’ve met her husband, Roger. Together, they’re quite powerful players in the world of New York photography.”

I staved off the building squeak from a celebrity sighting.

Dean shook Roger’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Heidi and Anna exchanged compliments on gown colors and material.

Mr. Montgomery handed me an envelope. “If you’re not settled on another school, I’d like you to consider attending New York Film Academy this fall. I’ve made an appointment with financial aid to arrange the last minute addition. There’s a partial scholarship still available if you’d like to apply for it as well. I’ve explained to administration there were extenuating circumstances that delayed your application.”

Anna smiled slyly. “By extenuating circumstances, he means he’s found a goldmine of talent and wants the credit given to him among his colleagues.”

“I wouldn’t mind the credit,” he teased. “You’d be doing me a favor. How’s that? Please apply.”

My jaw dropped, but words failed. “Um.” It was too much. The word “impossible” rushed in circles through my mind.

“Now, Anna.” A portly woman in a beaded gown rolled into our growing circle. “I hope you aren’t bribing this young woman with free housing if she attends your school.”

“Of course not.” Anna rolled her eyes outwardly.

The woman handed me an envelope. “Good, because I am. All the information you need to make the right decision is in here.” Her round cheeks curved into a wide smile. “I’m Helena Travis from Brooks Institute in California. I’d be remiss to not attempt a cunning steal.”

I forced my smile not to waver and my feet not to flee. “Thank you.”

“Tell me,” she pushed. “Which is your favorite photo?”

“I don’t have one.”

The little circle snickered.

“You must,” a new man entered the group. His narrow face and horn-rimmed glasses screamed money, education, and superiority.

I stepped closer to Dean for support. “I love them all for different reasons.”

The man in glasses maneuvered his way to Dean’s other side. “Have you considered Yale?” he asked me.

“Yale?” I laughed. “No.”

The circle laughed openly.

The man gave Sylvia a confused look.

“This is Thorton Cramer,” she explained. “He’s the director of Yale’s photography department. Yale has a long history of assuming they’re everyone’s top choice.”

He shook his head and handed me an envelope. “I’ve spoken with your school counselor and several of your teachers. They assure me your grades are top notch and your potential is limitless. I’m inclined to believe them.” His gaze drifted over the photos hanging on every side of us.

Sylvia took the envelope and collected the others from my hands. She dipped her chin to my ear. “I’ll speak to the others and ask them to deliver inquires to me this evening. The offers will be in your desk drawer when you’re ready, and if you have any questions…” She winked.

“Thank you.” How many times had I said those words this month?

Dean mimicked drinking, and I recalled the flute in my hand.

I finished the little dose of champagne and Heidi passed me a soda. “This is amazing.”

We walked the perimeter together, greeting guests and exchanging memories with families who recognized the moment captured on film. Nerves mixed with alcohol in my stomach, trying to upset me and failing. The soda helped. “This is real, correct?”

“Correct.” Dean spun me in his arms on the chorus of an old Tim McGraw tune that fit our town to a T. “Don’t look now, but I think everyone has officially arrived.”

Mark stood just inside the door with a plate of tiny meatballs and a broad smile. Several men I recognized as his coworkers stood at his side. When he spotted me looking, he nodded once in acknowledgement. The twinkle in his eyes was somewhere dangerously close to pride.

I released a controlled breath and smiled at my two best friends. “I think I can mark another number off the list. This counts as letting the world know me, right?”