I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(11)



“I wish I was going,” she pouted.

“You can take my place.” I rubbed some of the bronzer off the side of my nose. Beth was an artist—my face was proof. She wielded her makeup brushes like I’d used to hold paint brushes. But my nose was on the small side to begin with, so I really didn’t need that little bit of extra contouring.

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s get downstairs. You’re meeting at Vera’s, right?”

“No, Vera is bringing him here.” Voices trailed up my small stairwell, a deeper tone mingling with the women’s. My heart paused for a beat. My date was here.

From the sound of the conversation in the living room downstairs, everyone was here. I could hear Mom, Mariah, and Vera all chatting in jumbled, excited tones. Dad’s laugh broke through the din, and it occurred to me that he was likely speaking to my date—and hopefully keeping his middle-aged jokes to a minimum.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” I said, my body pulsing with anxiety. “Actually, scratch that. I know.”

“You’re afraid the guy is going to be massively boring?” Beth’s head tilted in compassion, her narrow face creasing in thought. “Oh, I know. He’ll be a sports fanatic and talk football all night, and you won’t know what to say.”

“Neither.” I shot her a playful glare. I wasn’t worried about liking my date. This was a favor for a friend. I was terrified the guy would be disappointed in me. But I wouldn’t say that out loud. I didn’t need Beth’s pep talk right now.

She crossed the floor, swinging her bag of hair and makeup products over her shoulder. “Just text me if you need an out, and I’ll come down with a terrible case of hives.”

“I’m not sure that would necessitate my leaving a charity ball.”

“It would if I needed my bestie to drive me to the ER.” Beth skipped down the stairs ahead of me, her long, dark hair swinging behind her from its high ponytail.

I grabbed my clutch and took the steps slowly, lifting the hem of my gown above my ankles. The silky underskirt grazed my legs, and I stilled halfway down the stairs. I had forgotten to shave.

“Hello. I’m Beth.” I glanced up to catch her lifting her hand in a wave to someone in the living room. She looked at me over her shoulder, her dark eyebrows raised as she mouthed, gorgeous.

Oh great. That didn’t help.

Gathering my courage in a deep breath, I dropped the gown to cover my hairy legs, stepped out of the enclosed stairwell, and turned to face my family.

I froze. There, standing opposite me, tall and handsome in a crisp black tux, his dark hair styled to the side, and his blue eyes bright even from a distance, was Liam Connell. Spike’s older brother.

My mouth dropped open. Everyone else in the room seemed to blur away. Mom, Mariah, Vera, Dad, and Beth all continued to converse as though they had no idea that Liam and I were staring at one another in dumbfounded silence.

His mouth quirked up into something of a faint smile, his gaze narrowing slightly. This was my date for the charity ball? I had to sit next to a guy at his own work function and help keep his mind off his ex-girlfriend, mere days after hitting his little brother with my car?

Mariah stepped closer to Mom, beckoning me to join the circle. Her figure was hidden in an oversized sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a scrunchy. I envied her casual loungewear.

An immediate hush swept the small group as everyone seemed to notice my presence. Dad whistled, grinning beneath his salt-and-pepper goatee, and I felt my cheeks grow warm, super conscious of the tight gown hugging my waist. I sucked in my stomach and sidled up between Beth and Mariah, using the ladies as sentinels.

Vera grinned from across the rug, her hand strung through Liam’s arm.

“Can we take a picture first?” Mom asked, and I felt my cheeks grow hot. What was this, prom?

“I think we should probably get going,” I said, crossing through the group and lightly touching Vera’s free arm.

Mom pouted, tucking her wavy brown hair behind her ear. “Just one picture?”

“She needs to meet her date first, Allison,” Dad reminded her.

“Oh, actually, we know each other.” I turned toward Liam, catching amusement on his face. Did he find this funny? Clearing my throat, I gestured to Beth. “I met him in Beth’s salon.”

Liam raised his eyebrow, and I lifted a shoulder slightly in response. What? It was the truth.

“It’s true,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. He could take a job as a radio host with that tone.

Beth narrowed her gaze, examining my date until recognition lit her eyes.

“There,” Mom said, guiding me around Vera and pushing me into Liam’s other side. His very firm, very unyielding side. “Right there. Perfect.”

She stepped back and lifted her phone, her tongue darting between her teeth as she framed us in the photo. Vera began moving away to get out of the shot, and I turned to reach for her as Mom shouted, “Say cheese!”

Vera slipped from my grip as my foot caught on the hem of my gown. My hands flew in the air as I yelped, searching for something to keep me from falling on the floor. Liam’s hands came around my waist, clutching me before I could lose all of my dignity, instead of just a portion of it.

My heart raced, my fingers digging into Liam’s forearms.

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