A New Year Bride. Scarlet Wilson

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       CHAPTER FIVE

      ‘I HAVE THE perfect dress for you.’ Mrs Archer clapped her hands together. ‘You’ll love it!’

      ‘What?’ Grace was stunned out of her reverie. She’d spent the last few days in a fog. A fog named Finlay Armstrong.

      He’d managed to commandeer staff from every department and they’d spent two hours—Finlay included—replacing the light bulbs on the external display. Five specially phoned-in maintenance men had hung the purple and white strips down either side of the exterior of The Armstrong.

      As they’d stood together on the opposite side of the street to get a better look, Finlay had given her a nudge. ‘It does look good, Grace. You were right.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Thank you.’

      The closed-off man who apparently had a reputation as a recluse was coming out of his shell. Except Finlay hadn’t been in a shell. Grace got the impression he’d been in a dark cave where the only thing he’d let penetrate was work.

      He was smiling more. His shoulders didn’t seem quite so tense. Since their first meeting he’d never shouted, never been impolite. Only for the briefest second did she see something cloud his eyes before it was pushed away again. Even Frank had commented on the changes in the last few days.

      She nudged Finlay back. ‘Just wait until next year. I’ll pick a whole new colour scheme and bankrupt you in light bulbs!’ She’d been so happy, so excited that things had worked out she’d actually winked at him.

      Winked. All she could do right now was cringe.

      But the wink hadn’t scared him off. Every time she’d turned around in the last two days, Finlay had been there—asking her about something, talking to her about other pieces of interior design work she might be interested in. Getting her to sit down and chat.

      They’d had another lunch together. Around four coffees. And a makeshift dinner—a Chinese take-away in the office one night.

      She’d even found herself telling him about the Elizabethan-style chairs she’d found in a junk shop and spent weeks re-covering and re-staining on her own.

      Last night she hadn’t slept a wink. Her brain had been trying to work out what on earth was going on between them. Was she reading this all wrong? Had it really been that long since she’d dated that she couldn’t work out the signals any more?

      ‘Ta-da!’

      Mrs Archer brought her back to the present day by swinging open a cupboard door and revealing what lay behind it.

      Wow.

      It glimmered in the early-morning winter light. A full-length silver evening gown in heavy-duty satin with a bodice and wide straps glittering with sequins. Around the top of the coat hanger was a fur wrap. She was almost scared to touch it.

      ‘Don’t worry,’ said Alice Archer. ‘It’s not real fur. But it probably cost ten times as much as it should.’

      Grace’s heart was pounding in her chest. She’d forgotten Alice had offered to find her something for the party. When Finlay had given her that exorbitant cheque the other day she’d almost squealed. Bills had been difficult since her grandmother had died.

      Her grandmother and late grandfather had had small pensions that had contributed to the upkeep of the flat. Keeping up with bills was tough on her own. There was no room for any extras—any party dresses. She’d actually planned on going to some of the charity shops around Chelsea later to see if she could find anything to wear tonight.

      ‘It’s just beautiful,’ she finally said. Her hand touched the satin. She’d never felt anything like it in her life.

      ‘The colour will suit you marvellously.’ Alice smiled. ‘I had it in my head as soon as you told me about the party.’

      ‘When did you wear this, Alice? It’s just stunning.’

      Alice whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t tell Finlay Armstrong, but I wore it at a New Year ball in The Ritz the year my Robin proposed to me.’

      Grace pulled back her hand. ‘Oh, Alice, I can’t wear your beautiful dress. It has such special memories for you—and it’s immaculate. I would be terrified about something happening to it.’

      Alice shook her head. ‘Nonsense, I insist.’ She ran her fingers down the fabric of the dress with a far-off expression in her eyes. ‘I always think that clothes are for wearing. I think of this as my lucky dress.’ She gave Grace a special smile. ‘And I’m hoping it will bring you some luck too.’