That Beautiful Orange Gown Page 2

  She tried to cheer up, reminding herself she had a new outfit to wear. She focused on that as she carefully applied the minimal amount of makeup she normally used. She spent longer on her hair, carefully putting it up on her head, with little tendrils escaping at the sides and a couple in the back. When she finished and did a final check in the mirror, she liked what she saw.

  Spending a little extra time and effort on her hair helped her mood. She knew she wasn't one of the pretty, skinny ladies all girls seemed to strive to be these days, but she also knew she had some good attributes, her long dark hair being one of them. She was also fortunate enough to have a nice complexion and long dark eyelashes. Even without much makeup, she knew she could make a couple of heads turn.

  She was standing in line waiting to be seated for the ceremony, wondering if she could slip over and sign the guest book and leave, when she heard a deep voice behind her. "Emily?"

  She turned around, recognizing the voice from somewhere, but not being able to place it. Smiling down at her was Nick Farrington. "Nick, hi."

  "Hello, yourself. Are you here for the bride?"

  "Yes. You?"

  He nodded. "Are you a close friend, or—"

  When he paused, she offered, "No, I work at the ad agency."

  "Ah." He looked around before asking, "Do you have a husband or boyfriend joining you?"

  She felt her face blush as she answered, "No. It's just me."

  "I'm sitting in the back row so I can leave if I'm needed. Would you like to join me?"

  "I'd love to," she said with a sincere smile. The back row sounded great, and sitting with him sounded even better.

  He gently took her elbow and pulled her out of the line and off to the side. "If you can wait here just a minute, let me do one quick thing and we'll go sit down."

  "Sure."

  He quickly slipped over and spoke to a lady holding a clipboard, and was back. "Okay. Would you like to have one of the ushers seat you, or do you want to just slip into the last row?"

  "I'm good with slipping in."

  "Me, too." He guided her with her elbow again, and they went to the side and right into the back row.

  She looked at him once they were sitting. "So, you're here in what capacity? Obviously you're not just a guest."

  "My sister's the one with the big job here. She's a wedding planner, and she planned this whole shebang."

  "Wow. I'm impressed."

  "Me, too. I'm proud of her. We're friends of the family of the bride, so I'm officially here as a guest, but I'm also helping Anita, my sister, if any last minute issues come up."

  "So you're friends of the Warner family?"

  "I went to school with Cindy's older brother, Joe, and Anita was a year behind their sister, Alli. Our families were friends. Do you know Cindy, or are you just here because she's your boss's daughter?"

  "A little of both. She worked at the agency for a couple of summers when she was in college, but mostly I'm here because she's my boss's daughter."

  He smiled. "I didn't want to be here, either. There are a whole lot of things I'd rather be doing on a day as nice as this."

  She smiled over at him again. "Was I that obvious?"

  "Actually, no, not really. I just guessed. I'm glad I ran into you here," he added after a pause.

  "Me, too," she said without thinking. "I hate going to these alone."

  "We'll stick together. Maybe it won't be so bad."

  "Except while we're eating. Since I'm here without a partner I'm sure I'll be sitting at the singles table with all the other losers."

  "Not necessarily," he said, grinning.

  She squinted her eyes as she studied him. "Do you know something I don't?"

  "I just asked my sister, the planner," he reminded her, "to see if she could rearrange the seating a little."

  Nick watched as a smile erupted on her face. "And she agreed?" He nodded. "Thank you."

  It got quiet as the first attendants started up the aisle, so they turned to watch.

  Nick was true to his word. He stayed with her all evening. From the time the ceremony was over until they sat down for the dinner, he was right beside her. He introduced her as his friend to a few people he knew, and she introduced him to people she worked with who stopped to talk to her. She was pretty sure most of her co-workers who stopped to talk to her were checking out the handsome man next to her, and she loved it when he seemed to pick up on that, as well. Every time someone came snooping, his hand was suddenly on her waist. She wasn't sure if he somehow knew what they were snooping around about, but it didn't really matter; she liked it!

  His hand on her waist wasn't the only thing she liked. She was finding he was a very good conversationalist and could fit in with any crowd. He was also very smooth. He could transition from talking with a soft, quietly-speaking lady to a loud, boisterous man easily. What she was noticing the most, however, were his manners. He was quite the gentleman, always leading her with a gentle hand on her back or her elbow, and was very attentive. He asked questions, and listened to her answers intently.

  They watched as the bride and groom went through all the traditional ceremonies; cutting the cake and throwing the garter and bride's bouquet. They laughed when two men fought over the garter until someone reminded them that tradition stated that meant they would be the next to be married. They both dropped it like a hot potato, and the crowd laughed.

  By the time they were seated for the dinner, they were talking and laughing like old friends. They discovered they had a lot in common, and had no difficulty finding things to talk about. When the dinner was over, the band started playing and the newly married couple danced the first dance. That was followed by the bride and her father, and the newlyweds and both sets of parents.

  The next dance was a dance introduced as 'let's help the couple get off to a good start.' Any man who wants one last dance with Cindy can have a few moments with the new bride for a dollar, and likewise, any woman who wants a few moments to dance with her new husband. Nick turned to face Emily. "As a long-time friend of the family, I should do this, if you're okay with it?"

  "Of course." As she watched him go join the line of men paying their dollar for a few seconds of a dance, she had to smile. Nick Farrington was turning out to be as wonderful as she'd been imagining the last week or so. She hoped he asked her out again. She wouldn't be stupid and say no this time.

  The men only got about five seconds each with Cindy before the next man was cutting in, but even in that short amount of time Emily could tell Nick was a good dancer. She knew she was being shallow, but that was important to her. She loved to dance, and the last man she'd dated, albeit it not for long, wasn't into dancing at all. As a matter of fact, she'd only dated one man who liked to dance, but as it turned out, that was the only thing the two of them had in common.

  When all the special dances were done and they opened the dance floor up to the guests, Emily was delighted when he asked her to dance. They stayed out on the floor, dancing to three songs, the last one being a slow song. She loved dancing with him, especially the slow one. He wasn't a small man, but rather tall with a muscular build. Still, he was very light on his feet, and she loved the way he pulled her close to him and held her there, almost possessively, during the last dance. When it ended, he seemed almost hesitant to release her.

  "You're a very good dancer," he said as he led her back to their table.

  "I was thinking the same about you."

  "I don't know how good I am, but I love to dance," he said.

  "It shows. I think that's half of what makes someone a good dancer."

  "I agree with you."

  It was hard to talk once the music started again, and he took her hand and helped her up. He led her over to a door that led outside to the veranda, where they could hear each other. "Would you rather stay and dance more, or would you like to leave? Maybe we could go for a walk in the park, or get some coffee? I'm enjoying getting to know you, Emily."

 
"I'm enjoying it, too. A walk in the park sounds like fun."

  "I think so, too. I want to find my sister and introduce you to her before we leave, if that's all right?"

  "Sure. She did a wonderful job on this wedding. She must be very organized to do what she does."

  "Oh, she is. She's always been a bit of an organizational freak."

  "I envy her."

  "Organization not your forte?"

  "Far from it," she said with a chuckle.

  After the introductions, they turned toward the parking lot. "Why don't you leave your car here? I'll bring you back after our walk." She agreed, and he led her out to his car, where he opened the door for her. Conversation again flowed easily on the way to the park.

  He parked and was out of the car quickly and she wondered what the rush was, until he appeared at her side, opening the door for her. He held out his hand, which she readily took, and he helped her out of the car. He kept it as he led her toward a walking path.

  Once they were on the path, walking casually, he asked about her job. "So, you work at Warner. Do you work in the office, or are you one of the geniuses who comes up with the advertising campaigns?"

  Her shock was obvious. "Why do you call us geniuses?"

  "Ah, so you are one of the advertising gurus. Some of the advertising campaigns I've seen are very impressive. I always assumed you guys all must be very creative."

  She considered his words a few moments. "To be honest, sometimes I'm too creative. I have all these ideas bouncing around in my head and I have to narrow them down. I never thought of it as being creative, though. I always thought I had to be half crazy to come up with some of the ideas that pop into my head."

  "Nope, it's definitely creative," he stated, not suggested. "So tell me a little bit about yourself. How long have you known you wanted to go into advertising?"

  "I think from the time I was little. It used to be a game with me when I was little. Everything I'd pick up I'd try to sell. I'd come up with some advertising line. At the time, though, I just thought it was funny. I didn't know you could actually make a living doing it."

  "Seriously? That's funny. What about your family; did they encourage you to do it when you were small? Are they proud of you now?"

  She stopped walking and stood still, staring straight ahead.

  Sensing he'd asked a difficult question, he squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry if I asked something I shouldn't have. You don't have to answer that."

  "No, that's okay," she said with a little forced smile in his direction. "It's just, there are a lot of things I don't know about my parents. I was in high school, and our house burned down one day while I was at school, and they both died. When they died, so did everything I thought I knew about them. I guess I'll always have a lot of unanswered questions about them."

  Chapter Two

  Nick squeezed Emily's hand again for encouragement. "Would you rather not talk about it?"

  She hesitated and he could see the indecision in her eyes. "If you don't want to, I understand. Sometimes, though, it feels good to talk to someone about things like that. If you want to, now or at any other later time, I'll always be ready to listen."

  She looked up at him, and he was touched by how vulnerable she looked at that moment. From everything he'd seen so far, she was a strong lady, but at that moment she looked so fragile. He did what she seemed to need at the time, and pulled her into his chest for a hug. He wrapped her in his arms. "It's okay, Emily. Don't be afraid of your feelings. I have you, I'll keep you safe."

  She nodded and laid her head against him, as her hands clutched his shirt. To his amazement, she didn't cry. He thought she probably would have felt better if she had, but he understand that some women saw it as weakness and wouldn't allow themselves the release they needed. He wasn't going to force the issue, but he would watch and see if she was one of those women. In the meantime, the safety she apparently felt in his arms seemed to be helping her, so he offered his arms and safety for as long as she needed them.

  After a few minutes, her hold on his shirt loosened. She slowly backed away from him and looked up into his face. "I'm sorry."

  "What in the world would you be sorry for, Emily? I'm sorry I asked about what is obviously a difficult time in your life."

  "It shouldn't be, though. It was eight years ago, at the end of my junior year of high school."

  "It would be difficult losing your parents, though."

  She nodded, but bit her lip, and tried to explain her feelings. "It is, and I miss them terribly. But what bothers me the most is that I don't know what they had or wanted."

  "What do you mean?"

  "They'd never talked to me about wills or anything like that. I don't know if they had any wills or life insurance, or even any property other than the house we lived in."

  "Did everything burn in the fire?"

  "Yes. There wasn't anything left."

  "So if they had wills in the house—"

  "They were gone, and I didn't know anything about them. I didn't know if they had any or not."

  Nick rubbed her back and talked softly. "Who did you stay with after the fire?"

  "My grandmother. She was my mom's mom. She didn't know anything about it, either. We didn't know what to do, so I looked in the phone book and found an attorney. His ad said he did estates and probate, so I called his office. The lady who answered was really nice. I explained what happened, and she assured me he could help me, that he'd know what to do, so I went in a few days later to talk to him. The secretary was so nice every time I went in for anything. I found out later that she was the attorney's wife."

  "So how did he help you?"

  "He checked with all the insurance companies to see if they had any life insurance, but he came up empty. He checked with other attorneys, as well, to see if any of them had done a will for them, but that didn't turn up anything, either."

  "Did they have insurance to cover the house?"

  "They did. I guess I was kind of lucky there. They had about another year to pay on their house, so the bank that had the mortgage also knew about the insurance. So I got the money for the house and paid off the mortgage first. Then I built a smaller house and had a little bit left over to put in the bank. I was hoping it would be enough for college, but I was lucky and didn't need to spend it. I went to the local college so I could live in the house since it was paid for, and got scholarships for college. I got Social Security since my parents were killed, and that lasted for four years of college. That and what I made from a part-time job paid the utilities and groceries, so I did okay."

  "It sounds like you're a very smart, resourceful lady. You've earned my respect."

  "Thank you, but I think it was more out of necessity. I had to do something, and the smaller house seemed like the best option."

  "I'd say it was a very good option." He thought about what she'd said, absorbing all the information. "When you said there are a lot of questions you don't have answers to, I take it you were referring to whether they had wills?"

  "Yeah, I guess. Mom and Dad were smart, and they both worked in the business field. Everyone said they were both good business people. It seems kind of odd to me that they wouldn't have had wills. I wish we could have found some, just so I'd know. I would have felt better knowing what they wanted me to do. Would they have wanted me to rebuild the house and live there? Would they have wanted me to sell the land and use the money from it and the house to start a business of some kind?"

  "Okay, I think I see what you're saying."

  "It seems to me like a last will and testament is just that; their last wishes. I wish I knew what their last wishes for me were. I think it would have given me some direction for my life, kind of like advice from them."

  Her eyes had teared up a little, and when she seemed hesitant to lean against his chest again, he guided her head back there, and held her again, running his hand down her arm. He continued to speak softly, soothingly. "I didn't know your parents, Emily, but
I feel real sure they'd be proud of you. As parents, I imagine their last wish was for you to be happy."

  Her face turned up toward his, once again looking fragile. "Do you really think they would approve of what I've done?"

  "I really do."

  That seemed to comfort her, and she cuddled in against his chest. He held her, giving her a place to feel safe while she took the time to collect her thoughts and her strength.

  Several minutes later she broke free and backed up a step. "Thank you," she said quietly. "You're right, I do feel better after talking about it."

  "Good."

  Before he had a chance to say anything else, a man seemed to appear from nowhere. He growled and grabbed Emily's arm and pulled her toward him. "Get your hands off of him, Emily. You're mine, and you always will be. Come on, let's go."

  Nick quickly assessed the situation. Emily's eyes were full of fear. The man was holding her arm, pulling her toward him, but she was still grabbing for Nick's arm. The man's other arm was behind him, and Nick watched it closely. "I don't know who you are," Nick said in what he hoped was a calm voice, "but the lady doesn't seem to want to go with you."

  "She did, until you came into the picture. You must be why she stopped answering her phone." Nick was ready, and when the stranger pulled Emily tighter to him with one hand and the other hand came from behind him, in one swift movement Nick kicked his hand, dislodging the gun he was holding, and knocking him to the ground. Nick pulled Emily loose from his grip and was on the man before he recovered from the fall.

  Nick glanced quickly between the man he was on top of, Emily, and the gun lying on the ground not too far off. "Emily, are you okay?"

  She was trembling, but managed to answer softly. "Yes."

  "Good. Would you please go stand by the gun and make sure no one gets to it until I can get it?"