The Life She Wants

CHAPTER TWO

AMANDA WAS THE only one still waiting when Melanie rushed to the ballroom doors ten minutes late, breathlessly apologizing. Amanda just laughed.

“Damn, girl! You look fierce.”

Melanie glanced at the hallway mirror, still amazed she’d managed to make it down here so quickly after the melodrama upstairs. It was a good thing she’d had plenty of experience changing clothes in a flash. But that color in her cheeks wasn’t just from cosmetics or her mad dash to get here. It was the result of her interaction with a certain blue-eyed ginger. Something about the man got under her skin, and it showed. She blew out a breath and assessed her appearance. In her agitated state, she wouldn’t be surprised to find she’d put the dress on backward or something.

But no, the pewter metallic gown clung to every curve and swirled like silk. Between the draped neckline and plunging back, Luis’s design left little to the imagination. She’d pulled her hair into a low, messy knot—the best she could do with the limited time she’d had. Since the dress was such a showstopper, the only jewelry she wore besides a wide silver cuff on her wrist, were simple diamond studs set in platinum. The earrings had been a gift from the photo shoot where she’d met Luis four years ago, and she’d always felt they brought her luck. After all, Luis had saved her life.

“You’re seven freaking feet tall! What are you—oh, no wonder.” Amanda glanced down at Mel’s shiny black Louboutins. “Thanks for making me look like a shrimp, cuz. Let’s go, everyone else is inside.”

Silver iridescent walls shimmered softly in the recently remodeled ballroom. Thousands of pink and white fairy lights were strung across the ceiling and wound around the light fixtures. Gallant Lake and the Catskill Mountains surrounding it glowed in the mid-June twilight beyond a wall of windows. Tall glass doors opened onto a large veranda overlooking the lake.

The crowd was an eclectic mix of wealthy businesspeople, celebrities, athletes and military veterans with various disabilities. Some of the vets had obvious injuries, such as missing limbs or burns. Some, like Bree’s husband, Cole, had less visible wounds—head trauma or PTSD. The fund-raising event had been a smashing success, and they were on track to raise more than half a million dollars to help injured veterans transition to civilian life.

Her cousins were seated together at a table near the stage, where Bree was already giving her pre-dinner address, thanking everyone for their participation, as Mel slid into a chair next to Luis. Bree explained how the silent fashion show would work, with models wandering among the tables during dinner. A sketch of each design was in the printed program, along with information on how to contact Luis Alvarado Fashions. She asked Luis to stand, along with Amanda, Nora and Melanie, to show off their dresses. Camera flashes went off around the room as enthusiastic applause began, and Luis gave Melanie a wink. Between the press coverage and social media, some of his designs were sure to get attention.

As dinner began, Luis set a glass in front of Melanie. It was clear and sparkling, with a slice of lime. She nodded her thanks. With a full glass in her hand, people were far less likely to offer her a cocktail.

Cole jumped to his feet and pulled out a chair when Bree came back to the table. She beamed at him, kissing him on the cheek before settling her pregnant body with a sigh. Normally soldier-stoic in public, Cole leaned over and kissed the top of Bree’s head, whispering something in her ear that made her blush. Mel watched her cousins and their men as they laughed and talked together. Bree had Cole. Nora had her fiancé, Asher, who was clearly appreciating Nora’s red cocktail dress. He couldn’t keep his eyes, or his hands, off her.

And then there was Amanda and her husband. Blake was tall, with black hair and dark eyes—a stark contrast to Amanda’s petite build and blond curls. He’d be intimidating if it wasn’t for his easy smile and obvious love for his wife. They were that couple. Beautiful, successful and happily building a family in their historic mansion, right next door to their five-star resort. Whenever they looked at each other, the love in their eyes made Melanie’s chest tighten.

She was thrilled her cousins were finding happiness and starting families. Really. She was thrilled. Thrilled. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt her heart sometimes to watch. Most of her energy was focused on sobriety and finding a place in the world outside of modeling, and that was okay. But once in a while, usually at the darkest point of her often sleepless nights, she longed for what her cousins had found. Loving partners to spend the rest of their lives with. She just couldn’t see that happening for her.

Luis’s low voice broke through her melancholy. “You and that dress were made for each other, chica. You look different tonight—like you’re ready for battle. It’s a good look on you.”

That look of battle-readiness probably came more from her confrontation with Big Ginger than the dress. He’d managed to ignite a fire inside her, and she wasn’t sure if that was good or dangerous. She didn’t want Luis to worry, so she kept that to herself.

“I have to admit, I feel pretty invincible in this gown. It’s going to be the star of your collection.”

“Our collection, Mel. It’s your company, too. Your hand is in every one of these pieces.”

She just shrugged in response. For most of her life, she’d received praise for only her looks, which she had no control over, so the compliments meant nothing. She didn’t know how to handle praise for something she actually helped create.

Luis frowned. “You doing okay?”

Being dressed up and on display, being in a crowded room, being near an open bar... There were a lot of triggers here tonight, and Luis knew it. She gave him a bright smile. “I’m alright. Maybe a four, but no worse.”

“You tell me the minute it climbs above a six, okay?”

“I promise.”

Tori and Shane came into the ballroom halfway through dinner, walking to a table on the opposite side of the room. Neither of them looked happy. Tori was wearing a neon-orange dress that was far too tight and short. And...bright green high-top sneakers. Her hair was teased up into some crazy kind of pigtails. This kid’s fashion style was stuck somewhere between Miley Cyrus and Bride of Frankenstein. She may as well have been wearing a flashing sign that said Unhappy Teenager.

Shane’s expression made him look like he’d been sucking on lemons, and Mel was pretty sure Tori was responsible. He escorted Tori to a seat and rolled his eyes behind her as she sat. Yeah, the two were definitely arguing. She felt a pang of sympathy for Tori.

But she was surprised to feel a touch of concern for Shane, too. He looked down at Tori in confusion and showed a quick glimpse of that vulnerability he’d surprised Mel with upstairs with his talk of lilacs and his grandmother. Those words had hit her heart, since she wore the pricey Amouage scent because it reminded her of her own grandmother. She excused herself and headed for their table.

People stopped her along the way, and she accepted their compliments and autograph requests with a practiced smile. A man in uniform stopped her to thank her for being on the cover of Sports Quarterly’s swimsuit issue three years ago. He pulled the well-worn folded page from his pocket and asked if she’d autograph it for him. It took every ounce of her strength not to dwell on how awful that Cozumel photo shoot had been. Between the sand fleas and a particularly lecherous photographer, it had been one of the worst jobs she’d ever taken.

By the time she got to their table, Shane was headed toward the bar with a sandy-haired man walking with a barely perceptible limp. Gary was nowhere to be seen. Tori was talking with an older woman. More accurately, the older woman was talking, and Tori was nodding sullenly. The girl’s shoulders were rounded, and she was tugging at her dress. But when she saw Melanie, she jumped up to greet her, pigtails bouncing like springs on her head.

“You’re here! I told Shane you’d come!”

“Oh, my goodness! You’re that model! You did the Coastal Jeans campaign, right?” The woman Tori had been talking to now joined them. “You know Tori?”

Tori nodded, her sulking long forgotten. “Yes, Mrs. Covington, this is Mellie Low. We’re...” She hesitated and Melanie jumped in.

“Tori and I are friends. And I go by Melanie Lowery now. Or just Mel.”

Mellie Low died a long time ago.

Tori beamed as Melanie extended her hand to the woman. Susan Covington explained that her husband was CEO of Covington Golf, and they were one of Tori’s equipment sponsors on the women’s golf tour. She introduced Mel to another couple at the table, the founders of Winthrop Athletic, a clothing company. Helen Winthrop was nowhere near as pleasant as Susan and had barely released Mel’s hand when she started in.

“Mellie, you’re in the fashion business, so please, God, can you give Tori some much-needed fashion advice?” Tori yanked at the hem of her dress. Mel gritted her teeth. What this girl needed was compassion, not cat claws.

“Please call me Mel. And, actually, Tori’s outfit reflects popular urban fashion for teens right now. She’s following a trend.”

Tori’s shy smile had Mel reaching to squeeze her hand, which also kept her from fidgeting with her dress. Helen gave Tori another once-over.

“Hmm. Perhaps it’s the ‘urban’ part I don’t get. We need Tori to reflect our company’s values, not those of the Kardashians.”

Melanie, I don’t care if it’s your favorite shirt or not, you can’t wear it. Nothing is about you anymore—it’s about our clients, and you represent them every waking minute of the day, so get used to it.

Helen turned away to say something to Susan, who rolled her eyes at Mel in sympathy when Helen wasn’t looking. Tori tugged at Mel’s hand and whispered to her.

“Everyone’s staring at me. I was just trying to get back at Shane for making me come to this dinner, but now I feel like an idiot. I never thought he’d let me wear this.”

Melanie could draw only two conclusions. Either that boulder of a man was clueless and thought Tori really wanted to come to dinner in this getup or he’d decided to let her embarrass herself deliberately to teach her a lesson. Either way, the girl was feeling humiliated, and that wasn’t going to happen while Mel was around. Phones were already aimed at Tori from around the room. Social media would have a field day with that outfit.

She leaned over and whispered in Tori’s ear, “I just happen to know where there’s a room full of clothes and accessories that could tone this up or down any way you’d like. If you’re interested.”

Tori’s eager nod was all she needed. Shane was still at the bar with the other guy, paying no attention to his client. She couldn’t wait to see his face when Tori turned the tables on him.

* * *

“YOU LOOK LIKE you’re ready to kill someone, Shane. Lighten up, will you?” Tim slapped his back a little too hard. “We’re here to have a good time, remember? And make money. By being nice to people. Ring any bells?”

Shane nodded absently. He made his living as a sports agent by schmoozing his way through rooms like this one. The Dealmaker. That’s what they’d called him in Boston when he’d come out of nowhere and signed a Beantown deal for one of the hottest basketball players in the league. It was a crazy scheme hatched in college, where he’d first met Marquis Jackson. They’d become friends, and Shane, a cocky law student, had sat at Marquis’s side once he’d declared himself eligible for the draft. When Marquis got himself arrested for a barroom scuffle and then mouthed off to some reporters afterward, some of those people had backed away. But not Shane. He’d started making calls to NBA teams himself, to Boston specifically, and had ended up working out the deal that had made Marquis a star. The two of them had landed on the cover of a Boston sports magazine.

Nana had loved the headline, where he’d been referred to as “The Dealmaker” for the first time. So much so that she’d framed it and hung it on her wall. He frowned. Weird. That was the second time today his tiny Irish grandmother had come into his thoughts. It was all because of that violet-eyed beauty and her damned perfume. Or was it the way Melanie Lowery had stood up to him to protect Tori? That was something his feisty nana would have done. At his side, his best friend and business partner flagged down the bartender.

“I remember why we came.” Shane straightened his shoulders. “I came here to kick your ass in the golf tournament today.”

Tim barked out a laugh. “I hate to break it to you, pal, but you failed. I warned you this new stored-energy prosthetic foot has been killer for my golf swing. The rotation unit is kick-ass, and you owe me a hundred bucks, Brannigan.”

“Whatever. You only won because you were lucky enough to get paired with the club’s pro golfer.”

“Lucky. Sure.” Tim snorted and stepped away to order. “Drinks are on you.”

His buddy being paired with Cody Brooks for the tournament was something Shane had quietly arranged. That was his special talent, making quiet arrangements behind closed doors. He’d also arranged for himself to be partnered with Carter Patterson. A hotshot college quarterback, Carter entered the pros a few years ago in a burst of publicity and attention that proved too much for a kid from Wisconsin. He’d let the pressure get to him and started making ridiculous mistakes on the field. The fans on social media had turned him into a joke. One team after another had cut him, and his agent was doing nothing to help the guy. But Patterson was only twenty-six and had plenty of career left if he could get his head straight. Shane’s deal-making had paid off well today—Tim and Cody had won the charity tournament, and Patterson had agreed to set up a meeting with Shane soon.

The only blemish on the day had been the skirmish upstairs before dinner. Then again, confronting the enigmatic Miss Lowery had been the most energizing moment of the whole day, as well.

“Dude, seriously, put away the resting bitch face.” Tim handed him a drink. “Come on, look at all the gorgeous women here! If I was into that sort of thing, I could totally score tonight.” Tim nodded toward a blonde leaning against the bar. “But you could do alright, man.”

Shane smirked. “I already scored today with Patterson. He could be our golden ticket if we can keep him focused. Now, if I can just get Tori to behave herself, we could be in good shape.”

At that, Tim put on his business face. Shane was The Dealmaker, but Tim was the money guy. And the resident worrier. “Do we need to be concerned about her reputation? The social media crowd is really going after her partying ways, calling her ‘Slutter Sutter.’”

Shane winced. “Yeah, I know. It may have been a mistake to take her on.” Tim had tried to tell him as much when Tori’s parents had called, begging for help managing her skyrocketing career and the mess she was making of her online presence. “What the hell do I know about teenagers? Especially girl ones?”

Her clothing choices were a huge challenge, and one of the reasons she got so much flak online. She was a pretty girl, but one day she’d be photographed shopping in a skirt so short she was at constant risk of exposing herself, and the next day she’d be in baggy jeans drooping around her hips, like Bieber. At last year’s ESPYs, she’d shown up in a butt-ugly dress made out of strips of paper, á la early Gaga. He had no clue how he was going to turn her fashion fails around.

“Have you seen the mystery lady who tried to invite herself to our table tonight?” Tim asked.

Smoky eyes immediately came to mind. And long legs. And a sharp tongue.

“The Lowery woman? No. She probably won’t show. She was just trying to be a good Samaritan or something when she heard Tori and Gary arguing. And speaking of that...”

“Yeah, I know. Her parents might trust the guy, but he doesn’t give me the warm-and-fuzzies.”

“The woman said he grabbed Tori.”

Tim stiffened. “You think it’s true?”

He thought about the way Gary had shuffled around and avoided eye contact. But, no, a guy in his position wouldn’t do anything so stupid. At the same time, Shane had been relieved when Gary had begged off from dinner tonight.

“She didn’t actually see anything. She was probably overreacting.” Melanie’s words poked at him. Who’s watching out for this girl? “I’m going to talk to Gary tomorrow, though. He might be pushing Tori too hard.”

Everyone had agreed Gallant Lake was the perfect spot for Tori to heal her bruised ribs out of the larger, national spotlight and away from her parasitic “friends.” The new golf course at the resort was a great place for her to work on getting her swing back in shape. In a few weeks, she’d be ready to rejoin the tour. Shane and Tim had been so busy out on the West Coast the past few weeks trying to keep baseball’s hottest third baseman’s career from imploding—again—that Gary had been left in charge of Tori’s schedule. And Shane didn’t like anyone being in charge but him.

Tim nodded in agreement, then cocked his head to the side. “That outfit you let her wear tonight isn’t helping her reputation any, you know. That hot mess will be all over the internet by midnight.”

His grip tightened on the glass he was holding. “Don’t remind me. I made her change twice, and each outfit was worse than the last. She was hoping I’d cave and let her stay up in her room, but I called her bluff.” No one outsmarts Shane Brannigan, especially some kid. Tori had looked horrified when he’d accepted the glow-in-the-dark dress. She’d tried to backpedal, but he hadn’t given her a chance to change. That would teach her a lesson for trying to play games with the king of gamesmanship. He’d regretted it as soon as they’d walked into the ballroom. He’d felt her stiffen at his side, but it had been too late.

Tim nudged him and suggested they spend some time with Tori’s sponsors, so they headed back the table. He did his best not to overreact when he didn’t see Tori there. Damn it, if that kid sneaked out and went back up to her room... He glanced out to the veranda and realized with a jolt that a better man would be concerned about her safety first. What if she’d followed some creepster out to the now-dark lakeshore? What if someone had followed her up to her room because she was alone? How long had he and Tim been at the bar? Who’s watching out for this girl? He was starting to feel a sincere sense of panic when Tim made an odd strangled sound. Shane followed his gaze and nearly choked on his whiskey.

Melanie Lowery and Tori Sutter walked into the ballroom, and heads everywhere were turning. Tori’s crazy getup had been transformed, and so had she. Her tangled hair had been slicked back and up into a tight twist on top of her head, secured with what looked like chopsticks. Her makeup had been toned down, and her lips were soft peach instead of the nearly black shade she’d been wearing earlier. She still had that crazy orange dress on. At least, he thought it was the same dress. The top was visible under a short white jacket, but the bottom was covered with some kind of colorful fabric wrapped and knotted at Tori’s hip. It allowed a peek of the short dress beneath where it was tied, but just a peek, as the rest of it fell to sweep the floor. The sneakers were gone, replaced by orange stilettos. The kid suddenly looked like the young woman she kept insisting she was.