Ready or Not (18 page)

Kara closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. “Six months ago, I got myself into this guy for a lot of money and never made good.”

“How much money are we talking?”

“Over time, sixty thousand, but then he added this interest I can’t get out from under.”

Hope forced herself not to react despite the spike in her blood pressure, to listen to Kara and see if there was a way out of this. “Wow. Okay. That’s a lot of cash. And where do you stand now?”

“I’ve been pulling jobs for him to work it off. Hustles, drops-offs, whatever.”

“Drug drops?” Kara nodded. “Kar, you can’t be in that world and stay clean. You know this.”

The tears welled up in Kara’s eyes again and threatened to spill over. “Don’t you get it? I don’t have a lot of choice here! The debt is down, but I still have a good 40K on my name.”

Hope stood and paced the living room as her mind tried to wrap itself around the circumstances. Her sister was trying. She was clean. She had a legitimate job. This was the most progress she’d made in years. Maybe she had a real shot to turn things around, if she could just step away from these people.

“Who is this guy?” Hope asked.

“His name is Dominic. He’s a big-time dealer.”

“The guy Twice-a-Day Benny
works
for?”

Her sister nodded reluctantly. “That’s him.”

“Christ, Kara. They say he’s killed people.”

“I wouldn’t know. He probably has from what I’ve seen.”

“And this is who you’re mixed up with?” Hope couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Kara had fallen in with some bad people before, but nothing like this.

“Don’t you think I know I screwed up? I’m trying to fix it, Hope. It’s just not easy.”

Hope covered her eyes and tried not to imagine the worst. She was up and moving again, the motion helping her think. A couple passes back and forth and her head cleared. “Okay. So here’s what you’re going to do. No more jobs for Dominic. Got it? None. You tell him you have the cash and that you just need a day or so to pull it together.”

“But I don’t have it. I—”

Hope sat next to where Kara lay on the couch. “You do.”

Kara stopped. “I do? What do you mean? You want me to lie to him?”

Hope had been saving a little each month, a nest egg to hold on to in case anything went wrong with the business. But it was all she had in the world, that money. If she handed it over to Kara, she’d be flying without a net. Going month to month on Showplace’s rent with no room to breathe. Though it was beyond terrifying, at the end of the day, this is what she had to do. It was the right thing, to give Kara the chance she so desperately needed to start again. Hope had to trust that she wouldn’t squander it.

She blew out a breath and explained. “I have some money saved. It’s barely enough, but it’s yours.”

“No way. I’m not doing that. You’ve stuck your neck out for me enough.”

“Then let’s make this the last time. Kara, this has to be the end.”

Her sister’s arms were around her neck faster than she could count. “It will be. I swear to you. On JD’s name.”

She closed her eyes at the mention of their brother and knew Kara didn’t take such a promise lightly. Hope had heard the words before, but something about this time felt different, and she could only hope to God it was.

Mallory sat with Samantha and Hunter on a set of plush couches in the small but private dressing area they’d been assigned at the bridal boutique. It was the first stop of Project Wedding Dress, and the whole thing was just so exciting. Mallory knew she’d enjoy this part, but she had no idea how much. The dresses that lined the walls in every style and shape had her brain in fashion overdrive.

“Can someone help me with the little hooks?” Brooklyn asked nervously from behind the changing screen.

“Oh, me!” Samantha jumped up and moved to assist their friend. And in just a few seconds, Brooklyn appeared, looking radiant in a capped-sleeve, chiffon gown to the floor.

Mallory’s hands covered her mouth, and she took a moment with the elegant visual. “Brooklyn, you’re a bride,” she said reverently. Mallory took her by the shoulders and turned her to the full-length mirror.

Brooklyn gasped quietly at her reflection. “I really, really am. I can’t believe it.”

“Gorgeous, Brooks,” Hunter said.

“What do you think of the dress?” Mallory asked.

“I like it.”

“You like it,” Sam repeated. “Liking is important, but we can probably do better than like.”

“Okay, but let’s put it in the running,” Brooklyn said and posed for the photo Samantha took of dress #1. Seventeen dresses later, they had lots of likes but not a single love.

“I feel bad for them,” Brooklyn finally said.

“You feel bad for who?” Mallory asked, and threw a glance around the shop for Hunter, who had disappeared some time ago. Perhaps she’d lost interest after the first few.

“For the dresses, the ones that are a definite no. Do you think they know? I don’t want them to feel rejected, all their dress friends noticing when they’re returned to the rack.”

Samantha placed a hand on Brooklyn’s shoulder. “You know, I feel confident they’ll get over it and eventually find their own bride.”

“So I have a suggestion,” Hunter said, rejoining the group.

Brooklyn, who now wore a tea-length lace number, pointed at her. “Go.”

“I was talking with the shop owner about you. What you’re like, your sense of style, and she took me to a section at the back of the shop.” She held up her hand. “Now humor me for a moment, but I found a dress that I think you might like. It’s not designer, and it’s not brand-new, but it reminds me a lot of the friend I know.” With that, Hunter disappeared around the corner, and the three of them exchanged curious glances. The dress she returned with was nothing short of stunning. Brooklyn stepped down from her spot in front of the mirror, and her eyes traveled the length of the fabric in reverence.

“Vintage?” Brooklyn said in quiet awe. Hunter nodded. “It’s gorgeous. I don’t know any other way to say it. There should be more words.”

And it was. A long, simple, candlelight dress with a fitted bodice that fell to delicate silk below. Shoulder straps dipped into a semi-backless elegance. Brooklyn would look
killer
in that dress.

“I’m almost afraid to try it on,” she said. “What if it doesn’t fit? I’m scared to know.”

“Well, that won’t get us anywhere,” Mallory said and took the dress and hung it up behind the screen. “There’s only one way to find out if it’s a match.”

With a deep breath, Brooklyn slipped into the dress while they waited eagerly for her to reappear. “How in the world did you find that?” Sam said to Hunter as they waited. “And how are you always able to pick out the perfect clothes?”

Hunter shrugged. “It’s one of my few talents.”

Sam kissed her hand. “You have some other very important ones.”

“Okay, lovebirds,” Mallory said playfully, but then the room fell into silence because there was Brooklyn, and the dress was even more amazing than Mallory could ever have predicted. Tears gathered in Mallory’s eyes before she could talk herself out of them. “Look at you.”

“Mal, you cannot cry.” Brooklyn chastised her forcefully, on the brink herself. “Because if you cry, then I’ll cry—”

“And then
I’ll
cry,” Sam said, “and I’m an ugly crier. My face contorts and it’s painful for everyone.” But it didn’t matter, because Brooklyn caught sight of herself in the mirror and went still.

“Whoa,” she said, and her hand fluttered to her heart. They gave her a minute and watched as the smile slowly took shape on her face. Mallory shook her head in wonder, because it was like the dress was made for her.

Samantha stepped forward and stood next to Brooklyn in front of the mirror. “Well, what do you think?”

“I love it,” Brooklyn said quietly. “It’s everything I wanted in a dress. Simple, elegant, timeless. Do you think Jessica will like it?”

“It is theoretically impossible that she won’t,” Hunter offered. “You look beyond beautiful, and she’s going to praise her lucky stars that she’s marrying you.” And now there were tears in Hunter’s eyes, and since when were there ever tears in Hunter’s eyes? She was by far the least sentimental of the group, and damn it, now Mallory was welling up again. And Brooklyn. And, oh look, Sam too.

“Everything all right in here?” the sales attendant asked cheerfully, sticking her head in the room. When four tearful faces looked her way, she relaxed in understanding. “So you found a dress then?”

They nodded in emotional unison and accepted the box of tissues she offered them, passing it around the room. “Well, no one can ever accuse us of not caring about each other,” Mallory offered and then blew her nose.

*

Hope stared at the spreadsheet on her computer, but the numbers didn’t change. She scrubbed her eyes and sat back in her chair. With her savings now depleted from the money she’d given to her sister that morning, she needed to play it safe a bit. The harsh reality was that she didn’t have a lot of wiggle room, as in barely any.

The bar was doing okay, but moving forward with her plans to hire Savvy would push her close to the edge of scary from a financial perspective. While she wanted to take this bar, her little-engine-that-could, and mold it into something bigger, it would require she take a rather substantial financial risk. But one bad month and she’d have trouble paying the bills. New York City wasn’t the easiest place to run a business.

Hope had some decisions to make.

She heard a knock on the door.
What now?
She closed her eyes in irritation. The mid-week traffic at the bar was manageable and she should have been able to steal a couple of hours on her own that night to work, but apparently the universe had other ideas. She planned to deal with whatever issue awaited her behind door number one, then take a look at the annual fire-marshal-inspection checklist. The last thing she needed was to be found in violation of some obscure safety code and leveled with a large fine.

“What’s up?” she said, opening the door.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Mallory said, smiling. Hope had to take a second to regroup. This was an unexpected surprise, but she was definitely not complaining. She could use a bright spot right about now. Mallory wore jeans, a red T-shirt and black blazer, her hair unencumbered, down around her shoulders. She looked sophisticated and hot as hell.

“Hey,” Hope said and gestured behind her. “Um, I was just getting some work done.”

Mallory tilted her head. “So all those times, when I thought it just wasn’t your shift and some other bartender was on, you were most likely back here doing bar-owner stuff.”

Hope widened her eyes in appreciation. “Bar-owner stuff sounds so official. I like it. You should name more things in our society.”

“You know what I mean,” Mallory said, pushing at Hope playfully. “Well, anyway, we’re having celebratory drinks out here. Brooklyn found a wedding dress. And I just…I don’t know, wanted to say hi. So…hi. But I’ll let you get back to work.” For reasons Hope couldn’t quite fathom, Mallory seemed nervous, which was so unexpected it was adorable, causing Hope’s stomach to ignite in butterflies of her own.

Hope took her hand and pulled Mallory into the office. “You should say hi in here though, I’m thinking.”

Mallory’s eyes danced, but she allowed herself to be pulled inside the small office. Hope closed the door, placed her back against it, and drew Mallory to her, wrapping an arm around the back of her waist. “So, hi.”

“Hi,” Mallory said back, smiling. “Your hair’s in a ponytail today.”

Hope glanced upward at the mention. “In fact, it is.” Her focus dropped to Mallory’s mouth. It sported a shiny kind of lip gloss, which she desperately wanted to taste. As she moved in, Mallory’s words stopped her.

“I like it when you wear it in a ponytail. Adds a soft / tough dynamic.”

“Yeah?” Hope asked, not letting the comment deter her, as her lips had almost been on Mallory’s. She braced for the kiss, basking in the warmth of Mallory’s proximity, anticipating the tingles before they could arrive. Her lips parted slightly as their mouths inched together.

“I mean, it’s a great look.”

Defeat. Hope leaned back against the wall, her body thrumming. “You’re killing me right now.” And the thing was, Mallory seemed to be enjoying it. She placed her hands on either side of Hope’s hips as a starting place and eased her thumbs up Hope’s body to the top of her rib cage, falling just short of her breasts. Hope hitched in a breath, very aware that Mallory held all the cards today and seemed to want it that way.

“So in closing, I vote yes on the ponytail.” And it was the last thing she said before she crushed her lips to Hope’s in a scorching kiss that chased every thought from Hope’s head, except that this woman was intoxicating. And fiery. And smart. And gorgeous. As Mallory’s lips parted against hers, Hope pushed her tongue into Mallory’s mouth and was greeted with a quiet murmur of approval. “I love the way you kiss,” Mallory said, pulling her mouth from Hope’s.

“Back atcha,” Hope murmured.

Mallory loved the high she got from moments like these with Hope. The ones where she knew what she wanted and took it. Hope’s lips were amazing and her tongue was a wondrous thing, she thought distantly as they sank further into each other. She reveled in the warmth of the kiss and let her body, now pressed firmly against Hope’s, luxuriate in the sensation that caused. “We have a wild amount of chemistry,” she managed when they came up for air.

“I’d have to agree,” Hope said, moving her hand to her forehead in recovery mode.

“It’s kind of staggering.”

Hope ran her thumb across Mallory’s bottom lip. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” She stole another kiss.

Mallory laughed. “You’re so different than I thought you’d be, and I’m rarely wrong about people.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone is what they seem.”

“So I’m learning,” Mallory said, nodding. “Speaking of people being different, I think I know that new waitress you hired. She looked familiar the other day, but tonight I finally made the connection. Her name is Sophie, right?”