Page 115 of Help Wanted

“Is that the dress?” he asked.

“No. It’s my underwear.”

“Okay. I was a little nervous for a second.”

She laughed as he held out a bouquet of flowers for her.

“Thanks. What are these for?”

“I was thinking about you while I was away and I wanted you to know.” He leaned over and kissed her. His hand trailed down her back and rested on her rear end.

“You promised,” she reminded him. “I need to get ready.” Despite the fact she would have liked to claim him as her own before they tempted fate at the reunion, they didn’t have time.

“Fine.” He let his head fall back. He was wearing a suit, but his lack of a tie said, I don’t give a damn about you people.

He followed her into the bedroom and talked to her about work as she went into the bathroom to put on her makeup and do her hair. It was a comfortable conversation. One she imagined having with a husband. She frowned at herself in the mirror. She hated when she jumped too far ahead. It only led to disappointment. After discussing it with Dr. Fulmer, she realized it was one of the reasons she’d never gone further in her past relationships. She worried about getting emotionally attached too soon. That kept her from becoming emotionally attached at all. Like her virginity, it was another of those vicious circles she couldn’t escape.

She walked back out and slipped the dress up her legs, turning so he could zip it.

“And then Paul pointed out that the boat was one—” He stopped talking when she turned around. “Wow.” He looked her up and down as she slipped on the heels.

“It looks okay?”

“There’s not a lot more fabric to the dress than the thing you have on under it,” he noted, making her laugh.

“I guess not, but this is really a dress.”

“Are you sure?” He was still checking her out, peeking down the front. He frowned. “I don’t know, Kenley. I might need a sharp stick to keep the guys away from you.”

Despite his reaction she still felt a little self-conscious about the dress by the time they got in the truck and he started the vehicle. Before he backed out, he leaned over and kissed her painted lips, taking a bit of it with him.

The closer they got to the hotel the more tense he became. His knuckles were nearly white when he finally parked and jumped out to come help her down. This was it.

At the doors to the building he paused and smiled down at her.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous. Stop fidgeting.”

“You look pretty scrumptious yourself.”

He tilted his head to the side and then looked toward the doors.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone in there, Ken. I know they don’t matter. But you do. And I don’t want you to get a bad impression of me from the way these people treat me. I was no one to them. I doubt they’ll even remember my name.”

Despite his claim not to care, she knew he did.

“You’re not that boy anymore, Zane. You’re better than those stupid people who picked on you. You are now, and you were back then. For your own happiness, let the bad stuff go. Either because of, or in spite of those people you became the man you are now. The man I—” She stopped before she said too much. “The man who owns his own successful business.”

“The man who is walking in there with the most beautiful woman on his arm who plays a key part in making his business such a success?” He held up his elbow and she tucked her hand around his arm so he could lead her inside.

They moved into the large room, crowded by people their age. Right inside the door was a table covered in name badges and manned by three women. One of those women looked very familiar to Kenley.

“Name please?” the woman said with a bright smile.

“Zane Jackson.”

The woman stood up straighter, her smile glowing at maximum level.

“Zane? Is it really you?”