#Heart (Hashtag #6) (22 page)

Rimmel

I was in a fairy tale.

A literal fairy tale come to life.

I knew what Valerie had planned for tonight. I knew the color scheme, and I knew the location. But I hadn’t known it would be this gorgeous.

The grand ballroom of the hotel was a huge open space with high ceilings that had to be at least twenty feet tall. They rose up in the center like a steeple, and running horizontally across the wide space were large wooden beams that added a rustic touch to an otherwise austere place.

In between the beams, lights hung down from the ceiling, clear glass that looked like water drops with a single bulb in the center. They sparkled and glowed around the room, and while the room itself was far too bright for the pendants to look like stars, the effect was no less dramatic.

Everything was decorated in a white and matte gold scheme. Not the kind of gold that looked brassy and plucked right out of the eighties, but a modern gold finish that seemed to play perfectly with the white.

There were round tables draped with white linens and large over-the-top centerpieces of white daisies and gold-painted baby’s breath bursting out of planters that stood tall, finished with an aged white texture. Where Valerie found so many perfect white daisies in the middle of winter I would never know.

Because the planters stood on what looked like thick podiums, the space on the table beneath them was filled with clear glass votive holders and lit white candles.

The dishes on the tables were white, edged in gold, and the linens were the exact same shade of gold on everything else.

Champagne flowed freely throughout the room, going around on trays and also being poured at the two bars on opposite sides of the room.

Canapés were being served and later, there would be a sit-down meal. There wasn’t a DJ. Oh no. There was a live band, and they seemed to seamlessly play a mixture of current popular songs and songs that would never go out of style.

Who the hell needed a wedding when you had an engagement party like this?

“Do you think Romeo knows all these people?” Ivy leaned in and asked.

I laughed. “Definitely not. I’d be surprised if his mother knew them all.”

“Did you know someone from
People
is here?”

I shook my head. “No, but I’m not surprised. They’re trying to get exclusive pictures from the wedding.”

As if on cue, a stylish woman wearing what I knew had to be a designer dress approached us. “Rimmel Hudson?” she asked, and I thought,
It’s
Rimmel Anderson now
. “I’m Rachel Wintor, the head editor at
People
.”

“Wonderful to meet you. Thank you so much for being here tonight,” I said politely and offered her my hand.

She took it and then looked between Ivy and me, then back at me. “I have to say you look more beautiful tonight than I’ve ever seen you look. Would it be okay if I asked who you are wearing and quote you on it?”

Even though Ivy was standing there, the picture of poise and style, I knew she was probably going to pee her pants any minute now.

“Of course.” I smiled. “Please meet Ivy Forrester. She’s my stylist. Every nice outfit you’ve ever seen me wear is courtesy of her brilliant eye.”

“Ivy.” Rachel turned her full attention to my friend. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You certainly seem to know your way around a closet.”

I laughed lightly. “I’ve never met anyone better. She’s currently in the process of starting up her own YouTube channel dedicated to style and teaching clueless people like me how to look their best.”

“Really?” Rachel seemed interested.

“Yes, she’s in high demand where we’re from.”

Ivy gave me a look and then turned back to Rachel and turned up the Ivy charm. She had the kind of personality that attracted people. They gravitated toward her confident air and beautiful face.

And she certainly looked beautiful tonight, with her hair straight and sleek around her shoulders, dramatic smoky eye, and retro inspired lip color. Her dress was simple and stunning, a black curve-hugging design that went all the way to the floor. It was long-sleeved and had a modest scoop neckline, but when she turned around, it was completely backless.

To finish off the look, she was wearing large square faux diamond earrings, a silver cuff bracelet, and a teardrop-shaped pendant necklace on a chain so thin you might not notice it at all except for the way it glittered beneath the light.

She finished off the look with a sky-high red heels that occasionally peeked out from beneath the hem of her gown.

“I’m not the only one who knows her way around a closet,” Ivy said, her blue eyes sparkling. “Is that a gown from the spring Lager Collection?”

I had no idea, but clearly, Ivy did. Rachel smiled. “You know your designers.”

Ivy looked put out. “I wouldn’t call myself a stylist if I didn’t. I didn’t think the Lager Collection was available yet.”

“It isn’t. But Lager is a friend of mine.”

“Well, he keeps you very well dressed.” Ivy smiled.

Rachel turned back to me. “So who are you wearing, Rimmel? Your gown is stunning.”

I glanced at Ivy because I had no idea who I was wearing. It could be Target for all I knew or cared.

“It’s an indie designer by the name of Sophie Blanc. She’s extremely talented, and I think you’ll probably feature her on the pages of your style issue someday soon.”

“An indie?” Rachel purred. “Bold choice.”

Ivy shrugged one shoulder delicately. “I wouldn’t say bold. It’s clearly a beautiful gown, and it complements Rimmel’s body shape perfectly. Sophie was very accommodating in tailoring it to fit her measurements, and the craftsmanship is amazing. She even added the gold trim to the hem at my request because I wanted something to make the dress really special. There’s a whole lot of talent in the indie design world. People with a fresh eye and a lot of determination to make it. They just need a chance to shine.”

“Well, this designer is certainly shining tonight, courtesy of Miss Hudson here.” Rachel nodded. “How do you spell the designer’s name?”

Ivy spelled it out while Rachel wrote it in a small notebook. When she was done, she looked up. “And who did you hair and makeup?”

“Ivy,” I replied.

Rachel gave Ivy another interested glance. “You’re talented yourself.”

“I’ve been styling Rimmel for a while now. I know what works best on her,” Ivy answered pragmatically.

“And who are you wearing tonight?”

“Calvin Klein. Vintage. Shoes are by Vera Wang.”

“Would you ladies mind if I took a few pictures? On the record, of course.”

“Of course,” I said and smiled. I wished I could kick off these god-awful heels and hide in a corner for a while.

But I wasn’t going to do that.

Instead, I asked Ivy how my hair was while Rachel signaled to a photographer whose job was likely to follow her around and take pictures on demand.

I rose up to my full height (which was pretty dang good with these heels!) and smiled, tipping my chin the way Ivy taught me and posing one foot slightly in front of the other.

After she got pictures of my dress from what seemed like every angle, I slyly pulled Ivy in and got a few pictures with her.

“You know Ivy’s dating a former Alpha U football player who was recently accepted into the draft for the NFL,” I said.

“Braeden Walker?” Rachel said.

I smiled because she already knew his name. Ivy beamed proudly. “That’s him. He’s around here somewhere, likely with Romeo.”

“Rimmel, would you mind if we got a few pictures of you and Romeo together?”

“Of course.” I lied. “I’m not real sure where he’s gotten to.” And like magic, he appeared.

“Ladies.” His smooth voice cut into the moment. I sighed and my body relaxed. I hadn’t even realized I’d been tense. “Does everyone have everything they need?”

Rachel wasn’t immune to Romeo’s power, and she was momentarily struck silent. I glanced at Ivy and suppressed a giggle.

“Congratulations on your engagement, Mr. Anderson.” Rachel started.

“Romeo.” He corrected politely.

“Romeo. And congratulations are also in order on your four-year contract with the Maryland Knights.”

“Life’s pretty good right now.” He agreed.

“Rachel is from
People
,” I explained to Romeo, and as I spoke, he leaned in closer to me and placed his hand on the small of my back. “They’d like a few pictures.”

“Absolutely.” He nodded. It was like he wasn’t bothered at all. ‘Course, he was used to cameras in his face all the time. During the season when he wasn’t at home, he was photographed constantly.

Rachel pointed to an area across the room where the pendants hung low enough they would be visible in the background. Instead of taking my hand or arm and leading me over to the spot, Romeo surprised everyone by sweeping me off my feet and holding me against his chest.

Ivy hurriedly fussed around to make sure my dress was covering all the important parts, and the high-low hemline draped beautifully even in his arms.

Everyone in the place stopped what they were doing and turned toward us. Laughter and whispers moved through the crowd, and Romeo turned on the full power of his smile, directing it toward Rachel. “Rim isn’t very good in heels. It’s safer for everyone if she travels this way.”

Rachel was charmed and then snapped out of it and started barking orders at her cameraman to not miss a second.

You’d think with all eyes on us, it would have been hard for me to smile and act like I didn’t mind the attention.

But it wasn’t.

All I had to do was look up at Romeo, and everyone else fell away.

“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” I mused.

“The cameras love us, baby. Gotta give the people what they want.”

“How’s it going with B?” I asked as we stepped beneath the sparkling lights.

“Real good. I’ll find him again once I’ve safely rescued you from the paparazzi.”

“How’d you know I needed rescued?”

He grinned down at me. “I didn’t. I just wanted an excuse to come over and touch you.”

I cupped his face and sighed. “You never need an excuse.”

He kissed me sweetly as we stood beneath the teardrop-shaped lights. Everyone started clapping, and I realized where we were.

I jerked and would have fallen out of his arms if his reflexes weren’t so good. He stood me on my feet, and we posed for a couple pictures, and then Rachel started hinting around about the wedding details and exclusive photos.

I let Romeo deftly handle that, and by the time she walked away, I had no doubt that within fifteen minutes, she’d realize she’d been completely dazzled and he never actually agreed to anything.

Finally, blissfully, we were alone.

Well, as alone as two people could be in a crowded room.

For all of two seconds.

“Rimmel!” Valerie said, stepping up to us. “There’s someone I would love to introduce you to.”

Romeo met my eyes, and I knew exactly what he was thinking about. Our wedding. The night we stole just for us.

I smiled and turned to his mother. “Of course.”

Valerie led me off toward someone she thought might be interested in donating to the animal shelters, and Romeo went off in search of B.

The next hour continued in pretty much the same pattern. We mingled, we smiled, and we posed for endless pictures. Occasionally, I would get a stolen moment with Ivy or with someone in our family, but they always seemed fleeting.

Finally, the servers announced the dinner, and everyone made their way to their seats. Romeo and I were at a huge table with his parents, Braeden, Ivy, Braeden’s mom and her date, Drew, and Trent that was near the center of the room.

The Knights players were at a couple tables beside us, along with another table for Ron Gamble and all the coaches and main staff for the team.

The band still played, but it was a much softer melody that was actually kind of relaxing as I sat there and sipped at champagne.