Chapter 37: Pretty In Pink

Kate ran the edge of her hand along her silky, shimmering, 14-thousand-dollar hemline. She nestled herself backward against Aidan’s chest and felt his arms tighten around her in response. A ghost of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as he dipped his head and traced his nose up the side of her neck to the sensitive spot behind her ear. It was her last night with him in LA, and she could think of no more perfect way to spend it than curled up on a couch together, watching one last movie on the hotel pay-per-view.

Aidan had kept the plans for this evening a closely guarded secret. “Just wear your new dress,” was all he told her, after they returned from their impromptu house-hunting expedition this afternoon.

Her smile broadened further, thinking again of the house, and the look in Aidan’s eyes as he sat with her in the little nursery. He’d felt it too. She saw it in his face. Maybe he really was ready to settle down. Maybe it wasn’t just a dream. At the very least, she knew that wasn't the look of a man who was about to break up with her. She’d been so sure it was over this morning, but clearly she’d misread the signals.

Now they were ending her visit on what should have been a high note. A celebration. The lease structure she’d worked out with the realtor was ideal. This way he could hold onto the house for six months. If everything went well, there would be plenty of room for her to join him there later. She should be patting herself on the back, really, negotiating that deal on the fly – all her years of legal training kicking in at just the right moment.

Still a good lawyer, if nothing else. A great lawyer.

She had a court appearance scheduled for first thing Monday morning. She should have been looking forward to it. Last time she’d taken any time off from work, when she had the flu a couple years ago, she’d nearly gone out of her mind with restlessness. But somehow it felt different now. Almost like this time, here in LA with Aidan – like this was reality, and her job in New York was just some boring biopic of someone else's life. It was the strangest feeling. Disorienting. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Was she reading too much into it? Maybe it just meant she’d had a good break. Some much-needed time off. She’d get back into the swing of things once she was back in the office on Monday.

In any case, she shouldn't be thinking about work right now. She still had a few hours left with Aidan, and she should be concentrating on savoring every last moment. She smiled again as she allowed her mind to drift back over the evening he’d planned. He’d been so secretive about the whole thing, despite all her coaxing and prodding.

“Just wear your pink dress,” he’d said, “and meet me in the lobby at six.”

She’d smiled at him mischievously in response. “Are you sure you want me to wear that? You could still try to return it.”

“I’m not returning anything.” His serious expression gave way to a half-smile. “And you—“ he poked her gently in the ribs as he spoke, “—you better still be wearing that thing when you’re 80 for the amount of money it cost me.”

He'd been just joking, of course. She tried to picture herself as a wrinkled up 80 year old in body-skimming pink fuschia, and the mental image was not a pretty one. This was a dress for a young woman. A young, beautiful woman. She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the way Aidan had looked at her when she’d arrived in the lobby at six o’clock sharp. She hadn’t needed to ask him if he liked it.

She looked down now and watched the light from the TV screen flicker and play across the glimmering fabric. No, she thought. She wouldn’t be wearing this dress when she was 80. But maybe someday, some other little girl might come along and use it to play dress up. Someday. Maybe. It was more than she had dared to hope for in a very long time – and it frightened her now to think it.

It was a dangerous thing, hope. Last stop on a one-way street to heartbreak. She knew how this story ended the last time. And yet, somehow, here she was again.

There was no point trying to fight it, she told herself, as she luxuriated in the firm embrace of Aidan's arms around her. Just be happy now. Just be here, in this moment, and try to memorize what it feels like to be happy. What it feels like to be held. What it feels like to spend your afternoon getting all dolled up for a date with the love of your life.

He’d met her in the lobby in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, with the same suit jacket thrown over top that he’d worn on the first night of her visit.

“Nice dress,” was all he said as she completed a twirl to show him the back.

“Nice blazer,” she’d responded.

He’d placed her hand on the crook of his elbow and led her outside, past the row of bellhops and doormen who’d all become familiar faces by now. She’d expected to see a limo waiting for them at the curb – or his cherry-red convertible, at the very least – but he’d turned away from the direction of the valet parking attendant and led her down the sidewalk instead.

“Where are we going?” she’d whispered, going up on tiptoe to speak into his ear as he directed a self-deprecating salute at the line of paps trailing them down the street.

“I thought a nice walk around the block.”

She’d looked up at him in puzzlement, and he’d merely raised his eyebrows at her in response.

“That’s not really a thing here in LA,” she said. “Or so I’m told.”

“So maybe we’ll make it a thing.”

They completed their lap. She'd expected to see a car once again, but he merely guided her back toward the hotel’s front entrance. She’d pulled up to a halt as they approached. “Did you forget something?”

“Nah,” he said. “I thought we’d stay in tonight.”

“Aren’t we a little overdressed for Scrabble?”

He’d grinned at her. “We can play Scrabble if you want. I was thinking more like a nice dinner and a movie.”

She remained still, looking up at him skeptically. They were staying in tonight? After all that? He’d just taken her out for a walk for—what exactly? To show her off in front of the cameras? Give room service a chance to set things up in their suite?

She probably should have been disappointed. Most girls would have been. She could only imagine how Paul's ex-girlfriend would have pouted and carried on. But to Kate, standing there on Aidan's arm in front of the hotel entrance, there was nothing she could have looked forward to more. Her last night in LA, and she got to spend it alone with him.

No onlookers. No autographs. Just alone in a room with Aidan.

“Come on, little girl,” he said in her ear, pressing his fingers against her back as he slipped his arm around her. “It’s my last night. I didn’t want to share you with anyone else.”