The Girl He Needs (24 page)

“Éclairs. Nom. Nom. My favorite.” She sniffs the desserts and closes her eyes.

“I know. I wish I could do more for you, but I have a feeling I’m going to be spending a lot today.” I pull my hair up, winding it into a loose bun.

“I’ve taken the liberty of pulling some dresses for you. I’ve one in particular that will be phenomenal on you, but I’m not going to sway you one bit. Because it’s an evening affair and it’s mid-August, the night may still be warm, but I’ve pulled shawls just in case.”

She leads me to a dressing room and I see three dresses hanging off the hooks. One is minty green, the other a light, bright blue, and the last is a silvery gray. I’m instantly drawn to the gray. The bodice is ornate and dips into a sweetheart bust line but comes up into a halter. The dress is chiffon, the bodice made of intricate beading that weaves around much like the filigree henna I tend to favor. The skirt falls to the floor, flaring out slightly at the hips.

“I love this one.” I look at Jayne.

She laughs. “That one’s perfect for you. Hurry, let’s get it on you.”

The dress almost fits me. It needs to be taken in slightly at the waist and the length is an inch too long, even if I wear crazy high heels.

Jayne wags her brows at me, her smile large and excited. “Damn, if I’m not brilliant with clothes.” She steps back and signals for me to twirl. “You should keep your hair up. Show your back.”

I look over my shoulder to the mirror and am pleased with the image. I try to imagine Brinn’s expression when he sees me.

“What are you thinking? Your cheeks are red,” Jayne asks as she pins the waist.

I give a slight shrug. “I was wondering what Brinn will think. You know, gotta represent.”

Jayne’s quiet, her eyes searching my face. “Methinks you’re in love. This is more than shagging.”

I snort. “
Methinks
you’re crazy. It’s good sex, I’ll give you that, but there’s nothing more to it.”

She levels a look at me.

“OK, maybe we’re friends. We have a friendship.” I shrug and look away first. “But I’m leaving soon. I got the job on that cruise ship.”

Jayne doesn’t cease her pinning. “Yes, because that ensures you can’t be in love. Leaving.”

“Why should I stay and be a reason my brother has to live in a mental ward?”

Jayne rolls her eyes with such severity I’m afraid they’ll get stuck. “Is that really the case? Did he go check himself in after spending the day with you last week?”

“No.

“Then stop with all the drama. Life dishes out enough without having to create any more.”

“But he needs his space.”

“Which can only be given to him by getting on a cruise ship and sailing far, far away. Yes, I see your point.” Her accent almost makes the sarcasm get lost. It’s hard when she’s so droll anyway.

“Even if I do stay, how do I end it with Brinn?”

She continues to stare, only this time somehow manages to look down her nose at me, from the floor. “Why would you end it? Most people date their crushes, not run from them.”

“Even if it’s a crush, it’s a little one.” I show an inch of space between my thumb and index finger. “We aren’t what the other wants. He’s so freaking tight-assed sometimes—”

“The Lady doth protest too much.” She finishes the last pin and stands.

“The lady is going to shop somewhere else. Someplace without all the lip.”

“Because the truth hurts. Why does it matter if you love him? You won’t enjoy being with him less. Why would you walk away from something that’s working? At its very core, life is about falling in love and seeing if it might go somewhere. If it doesn’t then you’ll, hopefully, have sweet memories to take with you as you move on to the next one,” she says matter of fact. “Will it be this one or do you want to try others?”

“We’re talking about dresses, right?”

Jayne shrugs, a smile twitching on her lips.

“I’m going with this one.” I smooth my hands down the bodice and across the skirt as I process what Jayne said. I look up at her. “I’m leaving,” I say it with determination as if the words will make it true. “I have to leave. It’s what I do.”

“If you say so. You could do something different and stay.” She leans back against the wall of the dressing room, one arm across her chest, the other resting on it, her chin cradled in the palm of her hand and gives me a pointed look.

“I’ll think about it.” I ignore her smile and stare at the dress, afraid she’ll see the truth in my eyes. That I have been thinking about staying.

Leaving home with the intention of finding myself had no fixed rules or guidelines, only self-imposed ones that I created along the way. But I never thought about when I should end this journey. I never even imagined it. I suppose everything had a timestamp based on finding Will.

What if I did stay? I’m not sure I know how. What would that be like? When Brinn and I decide to call this quits, do I pretend indifference when our paths cross, as they inevitably will? Do I want to call it quits with him?

I can’t deny that Jayne has become my first girlfriend with any real depth and the thought of leaving makes me want to weep. Or that I wake up every day excited to see these new people in my life. Or how I can’t imagine snuggling up with anyone other than Brinn.

But the underlying fear of them walking away from me stops me from dwelling on the picture of what staying would look like.

I arrive at Brinn’s faculty charity event alone. He wanted to pick me up but I wanted a grand entrance.

I step into the ballroom and spot Brinn instantly. He’s leaning against the bar, a beer in one hand, talking to a guy I’ve never seen before. When he sees me, he stands up tall, beer and guy forgotten.

As I walk across the room toward him, the beads on the bodice of my dress catch the chandelier’s crystals and bounce off, surrounding me in a halo of color. The moment is magic. The kind you fantasize about but never experience. The kind where everything around you falls aside and there is only you, the guy you can’t stop looking at, and this connection that can’t be defined.

I press my hand to my belly but it does nothing to calm the butterflies within nor the tremble in my hand.

“You look amazing, Brinn.” He does. Jayne fit him in a classic black tux with matching vest. A gray tie gives contrast to the suit and the white shirt, and his raw manliness and all over badassery leaves me feeling parched and only a cool glass of him will satisfy.

“You look unbelievable. People can’t stop staring at you,” he says, stepping forward to plant a light kiss on my lips.

“It’s not me they’re looking at. It’s this.” I turn and show him my back. On a whim I’d texted my brother and asked him if Daanya would be willing to apply silver body paint, henna-style, down my back to complement the severe cut of the dress.

They didn’t invite me to their place, but coming to mine on short notice is huge. I call that a win. And to put a further exclamation point on the whole thing, they are staying over at my place. Granted, I told them I would be out for the night, but still!

He gives a slow whistle. “Wow. That’s amazing.” He traces the art, caressing my spine, and when he gets to where skin meets dress he splays his hand wide to rest on my lower back. He leans in to whisper, “Can I get you a drink?”

“If you are planning on trying to booze me up to get me out of this dress, don’t worry. You don’t need the booze. That tux does it for me.” I turn back to face him and find I’m wrapped in his arms.

“Jeez, how are we gonna get through the night?” He glances over my shoulder. “There’s a guy heading toward us, he’s the dean of my department, Dr. Hughes. He’s the one pushing me toward the doctorate program.”

“And so it begins. You better get me a white wine, please.”

His boss arrives and on his heels is another guy who looks nothing like the academic sort. A lumberjack, maybe. A professor, no way.

“Dr. Hughes,” Brinn says as they shake hands. “Allow me to introduce my date, Josie Woodmere.”

“You, my dear, are quite lovely.” The dean tells me as he shakes my hand, his firm and not the least bit sweaty.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you. Brinn speaks highly of you.”

Dr. Hughes is an average man who is best described as...ordinary. Difficult to pick out in a lineup. He gestures to the lumberjack.

“This is Shawn Henderson, Shawn and I go way back to our days at Riddle,” Dr. Hughes explains. “We’re having a discussion—”

“An argument,” Henderson says, then leans next to me and orders a double scotch, neat.

“Fine. An argument. About how the aviation industry is changing. Shawn believes it’s changing more rapidly than I do. He thinks chartering is going to become more lucrative. Like people will be using apps and—” Dr. Hughes shakes his head.

“I said chartering is no longer something for the wealthy. That co-opting it is the way to go. First-class passengers would prefer to spend their money on charters and if they could manage it all through an app the better.” His drink is gone in two swallows and he orders another.

“I told Shawn here you have a keen business mind for aviation and we should get your take.” Dr. Hughes waves at Brinn to chime in.

I smirk at Brinn. Seems I’ve heard this conversation before.

“Well, sir. I’ve thought long about this topic and I actually agree with Mr. Henderson here with the exception of co-opting. That becomes less cost effective for the traveler. The way to go is to marry the best of fractional ownerships with charters and create a hybrid with a limited fleet. They buy on with a certain amount of miles; get the quality they are looking for, with some variety. Each plan could be customized based on their needs.” He turns to me. “I’ve been giving it some thought.”

“That, son, is a brilliant idea.” Henderson slaps him on the back. “I want to be in on the start-up.” He pulls a business card from his pocket and hands it to Brinn. “I’m serious. I’m looking to invest in innovative, forward-thinking companies and that one is the best I’ve heard in a long time.”

Brinn tucks the card inside his breast pocket. “I’ll keep you in mind should I decide to go forward with it, but currently I’m wanting to buy into a flight school.”

“Ah, you’re wasted on that. Get out there. Change the scope of aviation. Shake it up,” Henderson says.

“I agree,” I say and tuck my hand in his. “Capital be damned.”

“Atta girl.” Henderson swats me on the back. “Capital can always be found for something worthy.”

“By the way. Your application hasn’t crossed my desk, Brinn. I hope you’re still considering applying for the Ph.D. program. You’ve one week left.”

“Well, sir,” he says and shuffles next to me.

I hold my breath. Could it be?

“I hope you’ll understand that I’ve decided not to submit my application. I enjoy working at the university. But I don’t see myself building a career in academia. It is truly an honor that you believe I’m suited for that. I appreciate that.” Brinn extends his hand and the dean shakes his head before taking it.

“Maybe next year,” Dr. Hughes says. “You understand that I’ll likely have to give your adjunct job to one of the PhD candidates?”

Brinn nods and I wrap my arms around his and squeeze.

“Seeing past the current play?” Henderson asks Brinn.

“Without a doubt.”

Again, Henderson slaps him on the back. “Hall of Fame quarterbacks always do.”

A tall redhead with creamy white skin and a ginormous diamond around her neck joins the group and links her arm through Henderson’s.

“Pardon, darling, but I must steal you away if you’re talking business or football. You have six other days to do that.”

“Suzanna, this young man is the next big thing in aviation if we can convince him to run with his idea. This is Brinn McRae and his girlfriend...”

“Josie Woodmere,” I say and extend my hand. I let the girlfriend remark go.

Suzanna Henderson leans in closer to me and stares. “You look so familiar to me. I just can’t place it. What did you say your last name was?”

“Woodmere. I’m not from here. I grew up in New England.”

Suzanna snaps her fingers. “Is your mother Cassandra Woodmere?”

I stiffen and feel Brinn’s attention snap to me. I try to breath. “Yes, she is.”

Suzanna claps her hands in delight. “Oh, I love your mother. We went to Vassar together. We were in the same sorority and pledged at the same time.” She lowers her voice. “Of course, I knew her when she was Cassie Williamson and used to... Well, those are stories I’m sure she’d rather you hear from her. Is your mother here?” Her head moves as if on a swivel searching for my mother.

“No. She’s not.” I have to consciously force myself to relax.

“Well you tell her that Suzanna Simmons Henderson says hello. You look just like her. She was just as beautiful as you are, and I’m sure she still is.”

“Thank you. It was nice meeting you. I’m sorry but I must excuse myself. I have to catch up with someone before they leave.” The urge to run out of the room and to the next town is crushing.

I hold it together long enough to execute a polite smile before I slip away. Brinn says his farewells and I sense him come up behind me before I feel his hand on my back. I continue walking to the exit.

“Hey, you OK?”

I huff out a heavy breath. “My parents don’t know I’m here and I really didn’t want them to. I’m sure Suzanna Henderson will let my mother know first chance she gets.”

“Is it so bad that they know?” He propels me toward a small alcove that provides us some privacy.

“I don’t know. After the incident with the artist in Washington, they really did a heavy campaign for me to come home. It’s not me they wanted. Just another Woodmere to walk around my father’s office. When I didn’t, it made ‘Cassie’ even more furious.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? You’re an adult.”

“I know. I just like having my anonymity.” I hold the lapels of his tux, rubbing my thumbs up and down, and my panicky, erratic pulse is replaced by a steady, excited one. “Did I say yet how incredibly hot you look in this?”

“You did. Did I say how totally stunning you look in this?” He sweeps his hands down the bodice, resting them on my hips. “We should stay a little while longer and then we can get out of here. I have a surprise.”