Chapter 19

“According to the internet, ‘black tie optional’ basically means that the men can get away with wearing a dark suit instead of a tux, but the women are still stuck wearing a formal dress.” Erica says over the phone as I survey my closet for what seems to be the hundredth time.

I left Grace with her piano tutor and went to bedroom to call my best friend, hoping she could help with my wardrobe problems. She had worked at far more formal functions than I had and with her limited experience and the information in internet had to offer, I had hoped we could figure something out.

“How is that fair?” I scoff into the phone. Not that I had anything close to what this ceremony seemed to be calling for. I stared at the photos of dress examples in my own online search. A new concern started to worm its way in. There was no way I could afford this. History said Julian would help with the cost either.

I groan loudly in exasperation and fall back to sprawl across my bed.

“Don’t blame me. This is what the internet says.” Erica responds. “I’ve never actually been to something like this, so I don’t know what the rules are.”

“Maybe I could get the flu…” I think out loud to both of us, just as a loud knock sounds at my door. “Come in!” I call out, refusing to get up from where I’ve collapsed.

Two strange women come bustling through the door, carrying multiple garment bags in each arm.

“Pardon us, Miss.” One says as she drops the pile onto my bed. “We have another trip and then we can get started.”

“Started with what?” I ask jolting up on my bed, confused and bewildered by the invasion of strangers with plastic bags.

“Your consult.” A familiar voice says from the door, and I look to find Adrian walking into the room. My stomach flips and words escape me as the woman hurry back out the door, presumably after more bags.

I know I look ridiculous with my mouth opening and closing like it is, but I really don’t know what to say. Should I refuse or graciously accept the help? How did he know I was struggling with this?

“Grace told me you were up here trying to figure out what to wear for the Heir Ceremony.” He finally puts me out of my misery, the corners of his mouth quirking with amusement. “I thought you might want some help.”

“I do.” I start, then stop. The women come back in with more bags and I climb off the bed to make room for them. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.” I finally blurt out.

“Not at all.” Adrian explains. “You’re coming as part of my household. It’s my responsibility to make sure you feel prepared. Now take a look and try some on.” He walks to the corner of the room, where a stuffed chair sits. He makes himself comfortable and casually opens his phone, scrolling as though checking his email.

I take a look at the different dresses as the consults unzip bags and lay them out. Now, I’m overwhelmed for a whole new reason. A minute ago, I had no options and wasn’t sure what to do, now I had more than I could possibly imagine. I start sorting by color, disregarding the ones I don’t like and pulling out a few that I do.

The consultants take my choices to the bathroom. I look at Adrian before heading in with them and a sense of calm washes over me.

He’s staying. His words ring back to me and already, I feel more collected than I have all day. He’s here to make sure I feel prepared by the end of this. To let me know that what I choose is acceptable and I can walk into that ceremony with confidence.

The first few dresses I try on, I don’t even bother showing him. By the fourth, I think I’m ready. It’s a dark blue, floor-length gown with a slit in the side up to the middle of my thigh. The straps show off my shoulders and the neckline plunges just low enough for a little cleavage without sacrificing any elegance.

When I emerge from the bathroom to stand before the full-length mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I turn, inspecting the dress from all angles. I’ve never worn something that made me feel so beautiful.

I catch a glimpse of Adrian in the mirror’s reflection. He’s looked up from his phone, staring at me with a look I have a hard time deciphering. I know it isn’t bad though. His eyes are appreciative as they look continue to travel the length of the dress.

I’m grateful he’s here, walking me through this and helping me leave feeling like I’m ready for whatever this ceremony brings.

“What do you think?” I ask, hoping for his approval.

“Let’s try something that covers a little more skin.” He says, and I feel a stab of disappointment.

“Oh, is this a modest event?” I ask, looking at the dresses again. Most of them are just a revealing if not more so than the one I’m wearing.

“Not really.” He answers honestly, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t be.”

I roll my eyes and head back to the bathroom. The next few dresses meet with the same commentary. It isn’t until I walk back out in a floor-length violet dress with lace sleeves and a high neckline that I’m given the nod of approval.

I shake my head and walk back to the bathroom, “Absolutely not. I look like a nun.”

The next dress is similar to the dark blue one, but the slit doesn’t rise as high, and the neckline covers a bit more of my chest. I walk back out, thinking this one is perfect.

“I like the other one better.” Adrian says from his chair. His words are saying one thing, but his face says another. His eyes are appreciative, and he clearly likes the dress. I’m not sure what his problem is. Maybe he’s thinking about Julian and what he would think.

“Julian doesn’t care much skin I show.” I assure him. “I think he’ll like this one.”

Adrian clears his throat and looks back down at his phone. “I’m just worried you’ll catch a chill.” He mutters.

“Shall I add a cardigan, Grandpa?” I ask teasingly and give him a bland look through the mirror.

His eyes shoot back to me with a glare. “Does thirty-nine make me old?”

“It does if you think this is overly revealing.” I shoot back. Even the consultants are suppressing their amusement. “Is this dress more or less revealing than what the rest of the women there will be wearing?” I ask.

He hesitates, then sighs in surrender as he rises from his chair. “Less.”

“Then I guess we’re going with this one.” I smile and turn to head back to the bathroom to change when my heel catches on my skirt.

Strong arms reach out and keep from tripping to the floor. Instead, I collide into this chest, his arms going around me to keep me upright, one hand landing on my ass.

I flush with embarrassment at my own clumsiness and step to regain my footing when a furious, enraged voice thunders through the room and I turn to see Julian, his eyes filled with anger at the scene in front of him and what it must look like.

“What the hell in going on here?”