Beauty from Pain(5)

If the guys are students in the wine science program at the university, I’m guessing they will be at the vintage dinner at the school on Friday night. They’ll be anxious to showcase their wines. I wonder if she’ll be there as a guest.


I pull another bill from my wallet and hold it up for Blondie to see. “This is yours if you can find out what their plans are for the vintage dinner at the university on Friday night. I want to know if the brunette will be there.”


She smiles again. “I could play this game all night.”


Ten minutes later, she returns with another Shiraz and an update. “The guys will be presenting their wines at the dinner, and both girls will be guests.”


I slide the well-earned bill across the table. “Perfect. Thank you.”


“It’s been my pleasure. Would you like me to keep the Shiraz coming?”


“Yes.”


I spend the next hour stealing glances at the beautiful American through the crowd of people between us as they shift. I’m disappointed when the foursome gets up to leave, but I see the perfect opportunity for a convenient face-to-face encounter when she moves toward the restrooms.


I migrate in that direction and wait for her to emerge for our chance meeting in the hallway. When the door to the ladies’ room opens, I walk toward her, but she’s looking down into her purse. She attempts to dodge right, so I move with her. “Pardon me.”


Her accent is so unusual. And endearing.


She steps to her left and I move with her like a mirror image. “So sorry, Miss.”


Look up at me.


“Wanna dance?” she laughs as she lifts her eyes from her purse.


“I’d love to.” Her smile spreads with my reply. We lock eyes and I try to identify the color of hers, but I can’t. It’s too dark in the narrow hallway.


I was right. She is the one.


She seems embarrassed. “I’m sorry. Asking someone to dance is an expression we use where I’m from. You know? Like when two people try to get around one another as we just did.”


“I’m familiar with the expression, but one can always hope.” I step around her toward the door to the men’s room. “I think I would have enjoyed a dance with you.”


3


Laurelyn Prescott


How do you decide what to wear to a vintage dinner at an Australian university when you aren’t really sure what a vintage dinner is?


I stand at the sink brushing my teeth while Addison showers. Man, this sharing a bathroom with two other people is no joke, especially when one of them is as high maintenance as Addison.


I rinse and wipe my mouth. “You never told me what this thing is that we’re going to tonight.”


“It’s a vintage dinner.” Awesome. That tells me everything I need to know.


I grab my makeup bag and begin applying my foundation. The lighting in our bedroom is terrible and the bathroom isn’t much better, but who am I to complain when I’m staying here as a nonpaying guest. Besides, Addison complains enough for both of us. “Can you give me a little more to go on? Like, what’s going to be happening and what I need to wear?”


“It can’t be too formal if it’s hosted by a university, so I think a sundress should be fine. What about that black strapless with the wide white band around the waist? It’s a chameleon and will fit in if this shindig is on the dressier side. Didn’t you bring it?”


I remember hanging it in the closet when we unpacked. “I did.”


“Ben says the event begins outdoors with hors d’oeuvres where we’ll try the first round of new vintages. When we finish that, we’ll go inside for dinner and have more wine. There’ll probably be a band, so expect some dancing.”


Eating, drinking, and dancing. Slow dancing. It sounds fun and innocent enough, except I suspect Ben considers me more than a simple guest.


After I finish my hair and makeup, I slip into the black strapless. When Addison comes into our bedroom, she has me make a complete spin and gives me a whistle. “Looking good in the neighborhood.”


“Thanks.”


She’s wearing an ivory halter dress I don’t recognize. The ivory against her blond hair and olive skin is gorgeous. “I don’t think I’ve seen this before.”