Page 58 of Loving You Always
When Kerris confessed to Walsh how nervous she was about what to wear, the last person she had expected to show up unannounced on her doorstep for a shopping spree was Jo. Their relationship had definitely gotten better since they’d talked things out at Christmas, but Kerris hadn’t been dating Walsh then, so she wasn’t sure what to expect.
Kerris had been unprepared for the near-military approach Jo took to shopping. Jo had marched through New York City like General Sherman, and Kerris felt like the spoils of war right about now. Jo had plotted their course up and down Madison Avenue. With a Bennett car at their disposal, they ran through a blur of exclusive shops Kerris could barely recollect. Her mind was like a fashion-challenged sieve that couldn’t hold on to all the label names Jo had flung at her.
Euphoric with Walsh’s Black Card burning an outfit-sized hole in her Bottega Veneta, Jo loved several things at Bergdorf, a couple of things at Henri Bendel, and one thing each at Barneys and Calvin Klein. Kerris, on the other hand, felt overwhelmed by everything she tried on. As much as she hoped it wouldn’t be the case, she suspected tonight would be her introduction to New York society as Walsh Bennett’s girlfriend. She wanted to get it just right, and nothing had been just right until she’d found the outfit she was currently second-guessing.
The reality of wearing such a daring ensemble out in public was much different from the idea of it. She felt men’s eyes on her and wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake.
A black jumpsuit of satin crepe, its minuscule straps practically invisible, it gave the illusion that the whole thing was suspended and held up by magic. There was no waistline, but it skimmed her curves in such a way that emphasized the narrowness of her waist and the flare of her hips. The legs slouched before tapering at the calf. The rear view left her bare down to the small of her back, dipping dramatically and dangerously close to the upper swells of her backside. Added to it were Kerris’s first Louboutins, which Jo treated like a rite of passage, and a leopard print Alexander McQueen clutch.
“I’m only going to say this once and if you tell anyone I said it, I will deny it.” Jo swept her eyes from Kerris’s perfectly piled-up hair to her extravagantly shod feet. “You were right and I was wrong about that outfit. You look amazing.”
“You sure it’s not too much?”
“Too much what?”
“Too revealing?”
“Let’s just say I guarantee Walsh will like it.”
Kerris wasn’t too sure. She pulled at the nonexistent back of the jumpsuit, trying to cover some of the naked skin she was flashing.
“Stop fidgeting,” Jo said from beside her. “You look nervous.”
“Iamnervous.” Kerris bit her thumbnail.
“Are you biting a nail?” Jo flicked horrified eyes from the offending finger to Kerris’s face. “Why don’t you just send everyone a group text saying you don’t think you’re good enough for Walsh Bennett?”
“Jo, it’s not that.” Though on some level it might be a little. “I’m just not used to being in these environments.”
“Well, you better get used to it.” Jo looked over the glittering gallery of the Met. “This is Walsh’s world, and he wants you in it.”
Why? Kerris hated that that was her first thought. When would she get past this soul-deep sense of not being enough? Of not deserving Walsh and all that came with him? Dr. Stein assured her that unraveling a lifetime worth of lies and destructive patterns was a process. She was right. Kerris felt very “in process” tonight, like a sojourner stumbling through a strange, affluent land with well-dressed, accomplished natives.
“Walsh and Uncle Martin will be here soon. Uncle Martin would squeeze a meeting between a wedding and a funeral if he could. I know Walsh would have preferred to come with you himself.” Jo’s matte red lips were dramatic against her creamy skin and dark hair. “I want you out of this state of…whatever it is by the time he gets here.”
“I’m trying, Jo.”
Kerris looked up at the woman who seemed to have it all. Only Kerris knew that what Jo wanted most, she might never hold. Cam. For some reason, that knowledge helped Kerris. If a total package like Jo had a fifteen-year unrequited love in her closet, maybe everyone had something to wrestle with. Maybe her demons were just that. Hers. And everyone else, no matter how many zeroes they harbored in their checking accounts, had theirs.
“Look, I don’t really understand all the self-esteem issues you have or the abandonment crap you’ve bought into over the years. Sorry.” Jo’s tough-girl eyes softened and she quirked her mouth. “You want to know why I don’t understand it? I don’t get it because you are the most beautiful girl in this room. You are one of the most giving and sweet people I’ve ever met. I’ve known most of these girls most of my life, and I’d pick you over every one of them for Walsh.”
Stunned didn’t cover it. After the resentment Jo had expressed on more than one occasion since “the kiss,” even their last amiable conversation hadn’t prepared Kerris for that response.
“Wow, Jo. I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s probably for the best.” Jo smoothed her hands over her one-shouldered Hervé Léger bandage dress. The saleswoman had called the color alabaster. “Girls usually say stupid shit in moments like these.”
For a heartbeat, Kerris wasn’t sure how to take it, but Jo’s twitching lips gave her away. The twitch turned into a full-on guffaw and Jo, whom Walsh and Cam had more than once called “queen,” bent over laughing, arms folded over her trim waist. Not regal at all.
“Kerris, you should see your expression right now.”
Jo’s pretty face lit up with the laughter she couldn’t seem to stop. One moment Kerris wondered if Jo was hysterical and in need of a good slap, and the next she was laughing with her unstoppably, too. And for the first time, Kerris understood why Walsh and Cam would do anything for this girl. Why she was the rock. In the midst of a mini-meltdown, Jo had managed to make Kerris realize how silly holding on to her fears and reservations was. Had made her laugh uncontrollably when moments before she’d wanted to skulk off to the ladies’ room and hide in a stall.
“You’re good people, Jo.”
Jo slowly sobered, but her face held on to a mischievous grin.
“Don’t tell anyone, okay?” Jo’s smile fell away altogether. “Walsh is here.”