Читать книгу The Dating Arrangement - Kerri Carpenter - Страница 12

Chapter Two

Emerson Dewitt knew two things for sure.

First, she was lying on top of a strange man, in the dirty alley behind her mother’s exclusive bridal boutique. And second, she was still wearing the ten-thousand-dollar wedding dress that had given her the urge to flee in the first place.

It was a strapless gown with a ruched bodice, and it had a fit-and-flare style, with an emphasis on the flare part. The bottom half of the dress exploded into layer upon layer of puffy white organza and tulle covered in delicate crystals and ruffled flowers. It was as close to wearing a cloud made out of cotton balls as she would probably get. Although, cotton balls didn’t weigh anything. This frilly monstrosity felt like it would clock in at about eighty pounds.

And surely her savior, whoever he was, didn’t appreciate having an eighty-pound dress, plus a woman, crash-land on top of him. At least the fall appeared to knock the anxiety attack right out of her—she could feel her pulse returning to normal. She couldn’t believe she’d just climbed out of a window. This had to take over the number-one spot on the list of craziest things she’d ever done.

“I’m so sorry,” Emerson said, shifting her weight and trying to rearrange herself and the dress. If she’d so much as knocked a crystal loose on this dress, her mother would kill her.

“’t’s ’kay,” the man mumbled in a deep voice. She could feel him moving under her as he attempted to push the various layers of material out of his way.

“No, it’s not. Let me just...” She broke off as she tried to figure out how to get up gracefully. Only, a second later, she realized she’d left grace and all other etiquette behind the moment she’d decided to fling herself out the window.

After a few more moments of rustling about, Emerson and her Good Samaritan had freed themselves and were finally standing again. That’s when she got her first look at him.

And damn, he was sexy. Tall and muscular, with dark, disheveled hair and dark eyes to match. Eyes that were currently giving her a suspicious once-over as he brushed dirt off his pants.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I am, thanks to you,” she said, with her voice sounding a little breathier than she’d like. “Emerson Dewitt.” She stuck a hand out to shake. He grasped it and she shivered.

“Jack Wright.” He looked around the alleyway, eyeing the window to her mother’s shop. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Back to the shop?” His gaze fell over her attire. “To a church?”

In spite of everything else, she laughed. “Definitely not to a church. I guess you’re probably wondering why a bride would climb out a window.”

He nodded gravely but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“You see, I was trying this dress on and then...well, someone must have sucked all of the air out of the room, and I was seeing black spots in front of my eyes and then...” She sighed, long and hard. “I’ll take ‘ways to have a panic attack’ for five hundred.”

Again, he nodded. “I see. Well, marriage is a big step.”

She cocked her head. “Marriage?” She felt her nose crinkle. “I’m not...oh of course you would think that.” She smoothed down one of the flouncy flowers on the front of the gown. “I’m not getting married.” Blew that chance last year.

Jack remained still for a moment. Finally, his brows creased. “And you would be in a wedding dress why?”

She sighed. “Funny story.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and the motion stretched the fabric of his T-shirt, so she couldn’t help but notice the rippling muscles underneath. Yum. She looked up—high up, because Jack Wright was very tall—to see Jack waiting patiently.

He pointed to the door of the wedding shop. “Why don’t we get you inside? My dad’s—that is, I own The Wright Drink. Looks like you could you use one.”

“Right drink, wrong drink, I’ll take either. Thanks.” She glanced down and happened to notice something. Something very bad. “Ohmigod!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I got dirt all over this dress. My mother is going to seriously kill me.”

Jack peered at her dress. “Don’t worry. I can get that out with a special mixture my dad came up with.”

She arched an eyebrow in suspicion.

“You don’t own a bar for as long as my dad did without having a great hangover cure and a fail-safe stain remover.”

He held the door open and led Emerson through the back of the bar. He gestured for her to take a seat. She took a moment to observe the space. It was nice. The bar, a large, continuous square made of a dark wood, dominated the room. Glasses of various shapes and sizes hung from the shelving above it. And gold fixtures gave the place an old-timey feel, even if the gold needed a good polish. It reminded her of the reruns of the show Cheers. All it was missing was Norm and Cliff at one end of the bar.

Jack appeared in front of her, with the bar separating them. He handed her a rag. “Just dab lightly at the dirt. Should come right out.”

Miraculously, it did! She was saved, for now.

“Thank you so much,” she said gratefully.

“No problem.”

She continued to inspect the dress and clean up any imperfections she found. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and jumped out of her chair.

“What is that?”

“Huh?” Jack questioned. “Oh sorry. That’s Cosmo, my dad’s dog. Apparently.”

Emerson clapped her hands together. “A dog!” She crouched down and the poodle-like dog pranced right over to her, with the charms on his collar jingling while he did.

“Aren’t you the cutest thing? You are so handsome. Yes, you are.” She lost herself in petting the dog, who rolled right over on his back. She obliged by scratching his tummy. “Do you like your belly scratched? Yes, you do.” She met Jack’s unamused eyes. “He is the sweetest thing.”

“Don’t be fooled,” Jack said dryly. “He peed on the floor ten minutes ago.”

“Well, maybe you should have taken him out. It wasn’t your fault, cutie-pie. No, it wasn’t.” She took in Cosmo’s adorable little face, with his brown nose. “Are his eyes...green?” she asked Jack.

“Seems like it. I’ve never seen a dog with eyes like that before. They’re very human. I feel like he looks at me and knows things he shouldn’t.”

Emerson laughed. She picked up the dog and cradled him to her side, the way she would with a baby. Cosmo wrapped his legs around her and seemed quite content.

“I can’t believe you’re picking him up,” Jack said. “Your dress.”

Emerson absolutely adored dogs. Her mother had been firmly against them getting a dog, no matter how much Emerson and her sister had begged. Her dad begged too, for that matter. Of course, a dog would not have been good for her mother’s antiques and perfect house.

“You better be careful.” Jack wagged a finger at her. “I’m not sure if my dad’s stain remover can get dog pee out of a wedding dress.”

She kissed the top of Cosmo’s head. “You won’t go potty on me, will you? No, you won’t.”

“You’ve been warned. Now, what can I get you?” Jack asked. “Water? Hot tea? Maybe a glass of wine? I have a nice sauvignon blanc.”

“A beer would be great, actually. Whatever you have on tap that’s seasonal. And Cosmo needs some water.”

He blinked, but quickly reached for a mug and pulled on the tab in front of him to fill up the beer. Once the frothy, amber-colored liquid was in front of her, Emerson downed half of it in a single gulp, relishing the malty taste.

A look of surprise, followed by amusement, crossed his face. “Thirsty?” He filled up a bowl with water and placed it on the floor. Emerson let Cosmo down and the dog happily trotted toward the bowl and delicately lapped at the water. Satisfied, he returned to his bed, walked in a circle and then settled into a little ball.

Emerson let out a burp. “Excuse me. My mother would kill me if she could see this.” She drank the rest of the drink and held the mug up. “Maybe a water now?”

“Of course.” As he grabbed a clean glass and filled it with ice and then water, he eyed her. “Want to talk about it?”

She liked his eyes. They were a dark chocolaty brown. Serious and mysterious, but there was that twinkle after all.

Emerson took a sip of the water and settled in to explain. “My mother owns Dewitt’s Bridal, over on Prince Street.” She gestured in that direction now. “When she gets new dresses in stock, she asks me and my sister to try them on. She likes to see them on a real person before she recommends them to a customer.”

“So you were helping your mom out?”

“Basically.” She broke off as she looked down at the dress with an eye roll.

“Go on,” he urged, waiting for her to finish her thought.

But Emerson didn’t know what to say. What could she say really? The truth? Jack might be nice, and he had provided her with some much-needed alcohol during a trying moment, but he was still a stranger. Did she dare tell him that, as soon as she’d taken one look at herself wearing the wedding dress, in the three-way mirror, the air had whooshed out of her lungs? Her heart had begun beating so fast and so hard that she could practically hear it. The room had started to spin.

She played with the straw in her glass of water.

“Emerson?” Jack asked. “What happened? You seem...upset.”

She sighed. “It’s stupid, really. I saw myself dressed like this and I freaked. I was being dramatic and unnecessarily emotional.” She attempted a smile and shrugged, trying to make light of the situation.

The reality was the last time she’d been wearing a wedding dress, she’d been standing in the back of a church, waiting for her fiancé. But he hadn’t shown. Only the note had arrived.

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Climbing out of a window is a bit drastic. But something must have made you feel that way to need to escape so badly.”

“Like I said, I overreacted. I’m just not that into weddings.”

Jack nodded. “You don’t want to get married?”

I did. He didn’t.

Not being into weddings and not being into her marriage were two very different things. Emerson nodded. She agreed with Jack’s presumption because it seemed a lot simpler than going into the whole mess. Let him think she didn’t want to get married. It’s not like she’d see him again after today.

“That must be hard, since your mom owns a bridal shop.”

“Understatement.” She sat up straight and put on her best impression of a Southern accent. “Why, Beatrice Dewitt will have both of her daughters married faster than you can say mint julep.”

Behind the bar, Jack grinned. Emerson felt lucky to already be sitting down. She was a sucker for a good smile on a handsome face.

“Mama is from Spartanburg, South Carolina.”

He met this information with a blank stare.

“She was a deb. You know, a debutante?”

His facial expression didn’t change. She was going to have to spell this out.

“Southern women live for weddings. My mama’s chosen profession only adds to her wedding-mania. Being surrounded by silk organza gowns, lacy veils and sparkly accessories on a daily basis does nothing to suppress her desire to see me married.”

“But you’re not engaged right now?”

“I’m not even dating anyone at the moment. But that doesn’t stop Mama. My younger and incredibly perfect sister, Amelia, isn’t helping matters. She got married six months ago. I’d had a bit of a reprieve while Mama was busy planning her wedding.”

She clasped her hands in her lap and studied the bright coral nail polish that was chipping. Her mother had been harping on it earlier.

“So now that your sister’s married, your mother is trying to get you married off, even though you’re not interested.”

Again, she didn’t correct his assumption. Mainly because she didn’t want to tell him that she had been engaged. She had done the whole song and dance.

“This year is my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary. They’re having a huge party in a month. I think she’d like me to have a date. Or a fiancé. Or a husband.” Emerson threw her hands into the air. “It would complete the perfect family image. Amelia did her part.”

“Is your sister as pretty as you?”

Emerson sat back and swallowed, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Um, no—I mean yes—I mean... Thank you.” She bit her lip. “My sister is gorgeous. But we don’t look alike. Except for the hair color.” She ran a hand over her curly auburn hair until her fingers tangled with the floor-length veil.

“Amelia is tall and thin and beautiful. She looks like a model. I’m short and curvy and definitely not.”

Jack took her in. His gaze swept from the top of her head, over her body, all the way down to the ground. Slowly. Surely. “I think you look just fine.”

Emerson fought the urge to fidget. “Again, thank you. You’ve made me feel a lot better. You must be a really amazing bartender.”

Jack’s face fell. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself a bartender.”

She took in the various taps of beer, bottles of liquor stacked neatly on the far wall and rows of pristine glassware. “No?”

“I mean, I own this bar. Now. Recently, that is. My father passed away and left it to me.”

The emotions on her new friend’s face tugged at her heart. “I’m so sorry. About your father, I mean.” She could only imagine if something happened to her mother and she had to take over the bridal shop.

Cosmo made his way to Emerson’s chair. Then he let out a sound that sounded very close to a sigh. She picked him up again and placed him on her lap. He snuggled closer to Emerson.

“Poor thing.” Emerson rubbed her hands up and down the dog’s back, enjoying his soft fur. “I bet you miss your dad, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

She’d asked the question of the dog, but Jack answered. His word came out so softly, she wondered if he knew he’d said it. By the distant look on his face, she imagined not. She let it go.

“As you can see for yourself, The Wright Drink doesn’t exactly have the right appeal.”

Emerson took a moment to glance around the space. It needed some light—natural light, preferably. And one hell of a cleaning crew would do wonders. But all in all, she found it charming. Like an old English pub.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Seems like it just needs some tender loving care. A fresh coat of paint wouldn’t hurt either.”

“But would new paint bring customers in?”

She wasn’t sure if he was really asking her, but she decided to answer anyway. “Probably not. But if you zhuzhed up the inside, spent some time on a social media campaign and planned a couple of enticing events, you could turn things around. I’m an event planner and I’ve done plenty of grand openings for bars and restaurants, not to mention specialized events like themed nights, New Year’s Eve parties, birthday parties, you name it. You’d be surprised what attracts people.”

The air hung heavily between them. They locked eyes and it took everything in her power not to squirm from the intensity pouring out of those serious eyes.

She could feel the heat returning to her face and decided to lighten things up. “I mean, there are several ways to get customers interested in a business. I just organized the food truck festival last weekend and I know there—”

“You put that together?” He whistled long and low. “That was amazing. I heard there were two dozen trucks and they maxed out on ticket sales.”

She nodded. “The city wanted to focus on local businesses. Every food truck was owned by an Alexandria resident. To be honest, the publicity budget wasn’t very large. But word of mouth is a powerful tool. People were excited to support the trucks.”

“I got food from at least five or six places,” Jack said. “There was such great diversity.”

“Fifteen different ethnicities represented,” she said proudly. She’d worked extra hard to make sure a variety of diverse foods and cultures were included when she’d begun organizing the festival.

“Sadly, it almost didn’t happen. The organizers had wanted to do it for years, but the city kept pushing back. Said it wouldn’t bring any interest. There were a lot of things we did to make sure we would pack the festival.” She gestured around the bar. “Wouldn’t be hard to do the same kind of thing here.”

He seemed interested. “Really?”

“Off the top of my head, I would suggest a grand opening. Or a reopening, as the situation would warrant. There are several events you could begin hosting that would help garner interest.”

“Like bachelorette parties?” A pained expression crossed his face.

Emerson laughed. “I was thinking more like a weekly trivia night, regular happy-hour specials and maybe even a ladies’ night.” She didn’t even go into the social media opportunities. “You have a lot to work with here.”

Jack followed her gaze. “How do you know about all of this?”

“It’s part of my job.”

Jack leaned back suddenly. “Looks like we both have a problem to solve.”

“Trust me, it would be a lot easier to get people into this bar than it would be to get my mother off my back.”

Jack rubbed a hand along his jaw. She noticed some dark stubble and could hear a scratching noise as his fingers moved over it. Was it wrong that her mouth watered at the sight?

“How about...” he trailed off.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing—it’s a crazy idea.”

“Come on. We’ve already bonded over my frazzled nerves and your outdated bar.”

“Okay then. Why don’t I be your boyfriend?”

Yes, please. She coughed. “Excuse me? Why would you pretend to be my boyfriend? I mean, why would anyone do something like that? You don’t even know me.”

“Because,” Jack said patiently, “I need your help too.” He gestured to the bar around him. “I don’t know if I’m going to keep this place and find someone to manage it for me, or sell it. But no matter what I do, I have to turn it around. And you’d be the perfect person to help me make that happen.”

Emerson mulled over his proposal. “So you help me with my family. I help you with the bar.”

“You got it.”

“You’re going to pretend to be my boyfriend?” She couldn’t believe she was entertaining this at all. It was nuts. “That’s a lot to ask of you.”

“It’s me being your boyfriend for one night at your parents’ party. Believe me, from the looks of it, turning this place around will be the harder part.”

She chewed on her lip. “O-okay. So we’re going to be a pretend couple. And we’ll fix up your bar.”

“And no one gets hurt,” he finished.

As she considered, a smile began spreading over his handsome face. If it weren’t for that damn smile...

“What do you say? Do you want to make a deal?” He held out his hand and Cosmo let out a little yip.

She rose, and the wedding dress billowed around her. Then she clasped his offered hand. “I do.”