The Girl Next Door
Chapter 33

I stare in the gilded mirror propped against the far wall of my room before twisting and turning, trying to assess myself from every angle. When I saw the gorgeous gray garment Mom had mentioned last night, I'd thought it was a dress. But it's actually two separate pieces. The top is beaded and sleeveless with a high neck. The skirt is a tulle concoction that flutters around my knees. There is no way I would have picked out something like this for myself. And yet, it fits me perfectly and transforms me into a fairy princess. Once dressed, I move to the vanity and apply a bit of silvery eyeshadow that glitters and shiny lip gloss before twisting my hair into a sleek bun at the top of my head.

By the time I grab the small silver sequin clutch that has a stash of makeup along with my phone, Mom and Dad are waiting downstairs in the entryway.

Archibald and Caroline's anniversary party begins promptly at six o'clock and is being held at their estate. I peeked out the living room window a few hours ago, and there was a small fleet of trucks parked in front of the Hollingsworth mansion. Caroline is known for throwing elegant and sophisticated parties.

Mom is wearing a chic black shift dress that accentuates her trim figure. Diamonds drip from her ears and decorate her neck. Dad looks handsome in a black suit with a crisp white button-down and purple tie.

"I knew that dress would fit perfectly," Mom greets in a smug tone as I walk down the staircase. "You look stunning."

"You're an absolute vision, honey," Dad pipes up before pocketing his phone. He's worse than a teenager with his electronics. You would think the stock market depended upon Daniel Stanbury knowing every little hiccup.

I fluff the tulle with my hands as I arrive at the bottom step. "Thanks, Mom. It's a beautiful dress."

"Remember," she admonishes, "you make it beautiful, not the other way around." She gives me a little wink before tugging me close and dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

I glance at Dad, happy we're all together for a change. Mom and I had a great time last night curled up on the couch watching movies and eating popcorn. We laughed and talked about everything. Except Beck. After my little self-love session, I was relieved she didn't mention him again.

Dad walked through the door two hours ago, arriving home late. When I asked how the trip went, he shrugged and said as well as could be expected. Mom's face fell when he mentioned leaving again at the end of the week.

How will their marriage get better if he's never around to work on it?

I'm tempted to pull him aside and tell him that, but I'm not sure it's my place. They're the ones who need to fix their marriage, not me.

"We should probably head over," Dad says.

Mom grabs the small silver-wrapped gift sitting on the table near the door.

I glance at the pretty box in her hand. "What are you giving them?" I have no idea what you buy for the couple who has everything.

"A five-hundred-dollar spa gift certificate." She flashes me a smile. "I was thinking they could indulge in a couples massage."

Mom is so good at these things. "I bet they'll love that." I know I would.

"Yeah," she says a bit wistfully, "who couldn't use a bit of pampering from time to time?"

Note to self-tell my father to buy her that for Christmas.

As Dad reaches for the brushed nickel door handle, his phone buzzes with an incoming call. He quickly nips it from his pocket. One look at the screen has his brows knitting together.

"For goodness' sake, Daniel, you just returned home." Mom's voice bristles with impatience. "Can't we enjoy one evening without work interruptions?"

Not that I blame her for being irritated, but her remarks leave me flinching with unease.

"Sorry," Dad mutters, not bothering to take his gaze off his cell. "I need to take this call." He glances up with a contrite smile. "It shouldn't take more than ten minutes, then I'm all yours." He presses the phone to his ear and opens the front door, quickly ushering us outside. He mouths, "You two go, and I'll be over as soon as I wrap up this last piece of business."

Mom's lips flatten into a tight line. It's clear that she's fed up with his behavior. "You have ten minutes before I send Archie over to drag you to the party."

Relief washes over his features as he gives her a quick peck on the cheek. Once we cross over the threshold, the door closes behind us.

I glance at Mom to see if she's all right. "You need to book that cruise ASAP," I say quietly. "Getting him away for a week is the only way he'll take a break." "Yeah," she mutters, sounding unconvinced, "I'll call the travel agent on Monday and see what we can do."

As we step off the brick pathway onto the lawn that connects the two properties, the heels of our shoes sink into the grass. At eight-thousand square feet, I always thought our house was massive, but the Hollingsworth mansion is double that. It's palatial. Mrs. Graham, the housekeeper, should hand out a baggie of breadcrumbs to visitors so they don't get lost.

As we arrive, there's a line of cars pulling into the circular drive before guests hand over the keys to guys dressed in white button-down shirts and black slacks. The valets take the vehicles and park them along the end of the street. Once we reach the front door, it opens before we can raise a fist to knock, and we're immediately ushered inside by Mrs. Graham. A waiter in a crisp-looking tux is stationed strategically near the front entrance with a silver tray of crystal flutes filled with champagne.

We grab a glass of the golden bubbly liquid before walking through the massive entryway toward the kitchen. Guests mingle in every corner. Mom and I greet a few people before making our way outside to the patio. A large white tent has been erected in the backyard. Since it's early fall, and the temperature is seasonable, the flaps have been tied back. Tables with stunning pink and white flower arrangements dot the interior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling of the tent. Sleek white seating areas are grouped together. All the decor is done in shades of pink with silver accents. It's all very elegant.

On the far side of the tent is a parquet dance floor. A stringed quartet plays classical music. Mom mentioned that later tonight there will be a DJ and dancing.

Even though there must be at least a hundred people present, my attention is immediately snagged by Beck, who looks handsome in a suit and tie, as he loiters at the bar with one of his cousins.

His fingers are wrapped around a thick crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid on the rocks. My breath becomes wedged at the back of my throat as his gaze drifts over the crowd before settling on mine. When heat leaps to life in his eyes, all I can think about is the way I touched myself last night in the tub.

I shove the memory from my mind before a blush can rise to my cheeks. A hum of unwanted attraction sizzles through my blood. My hand flutters to my lower belly to settle the horde of butterflies trying to wing their way to life.

No matter how patient I've been, these feelings never seem to dissipate. If anything, they've only grown stronger. I'm wondering if my attraction to Beck will ever fade.

It's almost a relief when Archibald and Caroline join us. When Archie asks where Dad is, Mom rolls her eyes and tells him about the business call. Even though I try to focus on their conversation, my interest is drawn to Beck. I'm hyperaware of his every move. The way his focus stays trained on me sends a surge of shivers careening down my spine.

It's only when Mom elbows me gently in the side that I snap to awareness. Her lips twist into a smile as she nods toward Beck's father. "Archie was asking how classes are going this semester."

Heat fills my face as I refocus my attention. "Sorry." I shake my head and lie through my teeth. "I was admiring the decor."

"You might have been admiring something else," Mom says under her breath before taking a sip of champagne.

Her mumbled comment sends another wave of heat flooding through me. It takes effort to keep the smile plastered across my face as I return the elbow. I do my best to ignore her as her shoulders shake with silent laughter. Archibald and Caroline take a moment to glance around at their hard work.

"It was all my lovely wife. She spent the last couple of months planning this party, and it turned out beautifully."

Beck's mother beams at the compliment.

"Everything is gorgeous," I tell her, relieved that no one other than my mother noticed the reason for my distraction. If this is how the rest of the evening will go, I'm in trouble. I bring the flute to my lips and swallow down the bubbly liquid. Caroline glances around the festivities with a satisfied expression. "I think we all know this is a dry run for when I finally have a wedding to plan."

That simple comment sends the champagne down the wrong pipe, and I sputter. Tears sting my eyes as a wide palm lands on the spot between my shoulder blades.

"Your parents can't take you anywhere, can they?"

Still coughing, I whirl around to replace Ari, Beck's handsome older brother. A wide grin curves his lips. Before I'm able to react, he pulls me into his arms for a hug.

"Long time no see, squirt," he whispers in my ear.

Throughout college and the first year of law school, Ari came home during the summers and interned at his father's practice. This year, he received a prestigious clerking position with a law firm near Stanford. I haven't seen him since last Christmas. "Good to see you, too," I laugh, squeezing him tight. "I missed you this summer. The office wasn't the same without you."

"I'm almost afraid to ask who your standing lunch date was." Before I can answer, he says, "Please tell me it wasn't Mark from accounting."

I burst out laughing as the knot in my belly loosens. "What do I look like, a glutton for punishment?" Mark is a nice guy, but that doesn't mean I want to spend my entire lunch break learning about the nitty-gritty world of payable and receivable accounts. The lunches where he tagged along with us only solidified the notion that I made the right decision not to pursue a career in accounting.

Caroline shoots my mother a sly smile. "They make an adorable couple. Don't they, Julia? Maybe there'll be a wedding in the near future, after all."

A gurgle of surprise rises in my throat as Ari tugs me even closer. "Looks like there's some plotting and scheming underfoot."

Unsure how to respond, I press my lips together and remain silent.

From the corner of my eye, I watch as Beck joins our group. His lips are drawn down at the edges, and I fidget beneath the heat of his stare.

Unsure how to extract myself from this uncomfortable situation, I lift the flute to my lips and guzzle down the champagne before wiggling the stem. "If you'll excuse me, I need a refill."

"Someone's thirsty," Ari chuckles. "Would you like me to get you another?"

I slip easily from his hold. "No, thanks." And then I'm off, sliding through the crowd with a relieved breath.

When I was a kid, I used to think Beck was Ari's mini-me. They both have the same dark wavy hair, bright green eyes, and athletic build. Now that they are older, the differences are more perceptible. The breadth of Beck's shoulders is a little broader, his chest is a smidge wider, his arms bigger and more muscular.

There is such a strong family resemblance that it would seem natural to be attracted to both. But I'm not. When Ari had pressed me close, I'd felt nothing. My pulse didn't skitter. The muscles in my belly didn't contract. My core didn't flood with arousal. It's a disconcerting realization.

Needing a breath of fresh air, I hand my flute to a passing waiter. Instead of grabbing another drink, I rush from the tent. As much as I want to avoid Beck for the rest of the evening, I realize my time is running out. He won't allow me to elude him indefinitely. One thing I realize about my neighbor is that when he wants something, the guy goes after it with a single-minded determination.

And what he wants, is me.