“Don’t worry about letting me down, child. Only worry about lettingyourselfdown. Your opinion, and your pride in yourself, are the most important things.” Vivian left her hand on Hanna’s face for a heartbeat longer, then turned back to face the mirror. “Now. Let’s make me beautiful, shall we?”
“You’re already beautiful,” Hanna said, but fetched the cosmetics kit all the same.
Gregory stopped into Gran’s room just as Hanna was putting the final touches on the older woman’s lipstick. Hanna nearly drew a wine-colored line across Vivian’s jaw and cheek as she caught sight of him, dressed to the nines in a tuxedo with tails. He looked taller, broader, a warrior who had put on his armor and readied himself for political warfare.
Vivian laughed. “My darling son, it looks as though you’ve hit Hanna in the head with a pan.”
Gregory grinned wolfishly. “It does, doesn’t it. Hanna, you might put down the lipstick before you make my grandmother into a clown.”
“Huh? Oh!” Suddenly remembering herself, Hanna rolled the lipstick back into the tube. It took two tries to get the cap on straight. “Sorry, Vivian. I got, um, distracted.”
“I imagine you did.” Vivian was definitely amused. She shooed Hanna with one hand. “Go say hello, dear. I do believe I am ready.”
Vivian was ready, but Hanna definitely was not. Her comfortable jeans and baggy T-shirt served as a very drab reminder that Gregory lived in a world beyond hers. One where he owned this tuxedo instead of renting it, wore it in an English country house, and donned it for a party full of those who held the bulk of America’s wealth. She was a simple woman from a humble background who yelled at ghosts in her nightshirt.This man is, what, out of my league? No. Out of my universe, maybe. He left the league a long time ago.
But he was alsoright here.Close enough for her to smell the subtle hint of his cologne over the scent she identified ashim. Near enough to touch, though she didn’t dare lest she smudge whatever cosmetics clung to her hands onto his jacket. He stood mere feet from her and smiled at her with a pleased anticipation, and she was afraid to open her mouth to speak. If she did, incoherent gibbering might fall out.
“Well?” he asked. “Do I pass muster?”
Oh, no. Now I have to say something.She cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, you do. You look amazing.”
He canted his head, one corner of his lips quirking up further. “So do you.”
Her face threatened to catch fire from the heat of the blush. “Ha! I look like a slob, and there’s eyeshadow on my sleeve. New trend, that. Eyeshadow on the sleeve.”
“No, really, you do. You look like Hanna.” His gaze caught hers and held it. “That’s all I need to think you look amazing.”
All at once, she turned into a puddle of pleasure, embarrassment, and fluster. “I. Ahm. Thank you. You’ve just successfully turned me into a Hanna-shaped gelatin mold, I’ll have you know.”
“Good.” His eyes twinkled. “Come into the hall with me a moment, so Gran can stop pretending not to listen?”
Vivian looked the other direction in a conspicuous display ofnot watchingthem.
Hanna giggled and stepped out of the room with Gregory. “She’s such a hoot.”
“She is.” He reached down to catch Hanna’s hands in his. “Listen. I never got to tell you what a wonderful day I had yesterday. Or that I was sorry I disappeared afterwards. That trip to the basement really bothered me, and I’m not sure why. Claustrophobia, maybe. Whatever it was, I really wanted to spend more time with you.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest. “It’s all right. Yesterday was a fantastic day, even if it got a little strange at the end.”
“Maybe you’d let me take you out to do it again soon. I know we have Doctor Turner coming tomorrow, but next week, we could take an entire day. Go have an adventure.” His hands squeezed hers. “What do you say?”
“I say… I say I told your grandmother I’d accept her job offer,” Hanna said, words falling out in a rush. “And I say I’d love to have a date with you.”
The hopeful little lift of his lips turned into a full, brilliant grin. “That is the best news I have had all week. Looking forward to that will get me through this party. I promise, I can handle anything while I’m thinking about that. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do. For being more than I could hope for.” He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed them against her fingers.
Her nerves came alive in a scintillating cascade, first from where his fingers touched the palm of her hand, then from the place his lips touched her knuckles. Electric tingles crawled over the backs of her hands, down her forearms, turned into excited butterflies in her stomach. She knew she had to be blushing, but the sensation of heat was lost in the sheer, giddy pleasure of having her hands kissed by the handsome man in the tuxedo.
I haven’t felt like this since I saw Danny Whatshisname the quarterback dressed up for prom. When he brought a whole bouquet of convenience-store roses for the first girls he saw when he and his date walked into the dance.She couldn’t even remember his name now, that boy she’d never had a chance with, but she remembered when he walked by her, full of smug smiles, and handed her a cheap rose with ratty edges at the tips of the bloom. He’d been the picture of high-school perfection, the one every girl swooned over, and she’d lost half her mind when he handed her a flower.Just like he knew we all would. He knew he was out of our league, and he loved the attention. He didn’t bring me a rose. He brought them for himself, in a way.
Yet Gregory’s smile was all for her, as was the warmth in his eyes. While Danny Whatshisname had begun his slow decline from his high school peak, Gregory had risen. Now, he would go downstairs to talk to his board of directors, their wives, and whatever other bigwigs they had accumulated for a party in a London countryside mansion.While I stay upstairs in my T-shirt and read old files. But he’s looking forward to a date with me.
Perhaps the time had come to put aside notions of who was in whose league. More, perhaps the time had come to allow the past, where her family’s behavior had instilled the belief that she had little worth and little worthy of remark, to fade away. She, Hanna Sparrow, was enough.
“Then thank you for being the same.” Mindful not to smudge any cosmetics residue on his pristine tuxedo, she leaned up to kiss his cheek. His breath gusted against her face, and she realized this was as close as they had ever been.