“What is this?” I called to Gary, who was hovering on the other side of the curtain.
“Just put it on!”
I tugged at the ribbon and removed the lid. Resting on layers of crisp cream tissue paper was a puddle of material such a dark shade of green, it was almost black. I stroked it. My fingernails were the exact same shade. The fabric was a cool whisper against my skin as I lifted the dress out of the box, the skirt pooling on the floor. Beneath it was a pair of black patent heels with red soles and silk bows at the ankles. There was also underwear. Extremely supportive underwear.
Suck it up, Evie. It will be worth it.
“I’m ready,” I called.
Gary instantly whisked the curtain aside. He did a double take when he saw me, hands fluttering to his mouth.
“There you are, you minx,” he said. “Now, stand right here and close your eyes.”
I let him maneuver me into position. “Three, two, one.”
I looked. He’d wheeled in a full-length mirror. The whole team had gathered in behind me, and a couple of other clients as well. For the first time in my life, no one would have been able to tell that I was blushing.
“Oh my God.”
Gary was close to tears.
“Do you like it?”
The girl who looked back at me was not Evie Summers. This Evie had been poured into a dress that flowed over every curve like smoke. Her sleek hair lay in a gleaming coil over one bared shoulder, the color a beautiful burnished red and gold. The exact shade teenaged me would have longed for. She had pale, almost translucent skin, huge sapphire eyes, and a dark crimson mouth. She was, I had to admit, beautiful.
She just wasn’t me.
“Thank you,” I said, in lieu of more adequate words.
Gary kissed the air next to each cheek.
“You look like a dream,” Gary said.
Yes, the one where the handsome prince tells the girl he’s fallen for her and then has her made into an entirely different person.
* * *
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised to find NOB had arrived in a limo.
“Wait,” he ordered from the backseat before I could get in. He took a moment to look at me. His mouth curved into a slow, satisfied smile. “Evie Summers, there you are,” he said.
“What do you think?” I did a twirl in my heels, feeling my right ankle threaten to give.
“Absolutely stunning,” he said. “It’s a whole new you, Red.”
I exhaled slowly, feeling my makeup-stiffened cheeks resist my smile. “I just wanted to thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” NOB said, pouring two glasses of champagne.
“I spent my entire life being a wallflower, and you’ve got me to bloom.”
He eyed me a little warily. “Glad you think so. Are you ever going to get in?”
“It’s just that it took this makeover for me to finally realize how beautiful I am.”
A few seconds passed.
“You aren’t really happy, are you?”
“You think? Of all the insulting, misogynistic, arrogant things to pull, Ezra!” I exploded. He almost dropped the glasses. “I’m only here to tell you, in person, that our date is off.”
“I wanted to give you something to write about!” he burst out. I stared at him in bewilderment. He shuffled closer to the door, looking at me in earnest. “For your meet-cute.”
“What meet-cute?”
“This one. Ours. Call it Two Weeks Notice. The Proposal. Whatever. I’m it.”
“You’ve been watching rom-coms?” Which one of us is Sandra Bullock? That wasn’t important.
“All the ones you recommended.”
I was about to respond when something dawned on me.
NOB was offering to help me fulfill the final stipulation of our deal. Exactly as I’d hoped.
“You do realize that if you’re my Mr. Happy Ending, you have to finish the script?”
His blue eyes were crystal clear and guileless. “I realize I’m offering to be the last meet-cute you’ll ever need.” He shuffled back to make room on the seat. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
I considered my options. Leave now, head held high, telling him he can forget the script. Or . . . I sighed, throwing my bulky satchel into the car first and inching the dress up over my knees so I could climb onto the heated leather.
“Relax,” NOB said, smiling again as he handed me a glass of champagne. The high shirt collar beneath his dark blue suit was almost priestlike. Never had a man looked less holy. “If you don’t like what I say next, I’ll take you straight home. The makeover was only step one of my surprise. I wanted to do something for you, the woman who got me to write a rom-com. It had to be something fitting.” Hope welled up inside me. Was it the script after all? “I thought, what could be more appropriate than a red-carpet premiere?”
“What?” I fluctuated between disappointment and excitement. I’d always wanted to go to a film premiere, but in all my time with Monty, he’d never let me. I also really wanted that script.
Ezra drained his champagne. “I knew you’d love it.”
“Is this my surprise?”
“It’s part of it.” I breathed out in relief. The script was still a possibility. “Look, I made a stupid mistake with the makeover, I get that. But please don’t give up on me just yet.” There was a note of urgency in his voice. For all the world, Ezra seemed completely sincere. “I need you to know,” he continued, “things are different. With you. I’m different.” Frustration and earnestness warred on his face. “Please believe that.”
“Ezra,” I said, “tell me you aren’t about to give me the ‘you’re special’ speech, because that’s straight out of the rom-com playbook and I won’t fall for it. Especially not from you.”
“Red,” he said smoothly. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”
Chapter 32
Hollywood Miss
EXT: THE RED CARPET, ODEON, LEICESTER SQUARE—WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 6 P.M.
EZRA holds his hand out for EVIE and pulls her from the car in one smooth motion. She stands beside him and he puts his arm around her waist. Security ushers them toward the red carpet, which is sectioned off from the public. EZRA whispers something in EVIE’s ear that makes her smile as he guides her toward the cameras. The look she gives him is cautious but thoughtful.