Claimed by the Desert Sheikh. Оливия Гейтс
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Victoria patted her arm. “You have to trust me. I don’t want to endanger my IRA any more than you do. These are to give us ideas only. Then we’re heading into the back.”
“What’s in the back?”
Victoria laughed. “I can see you’re not going to trust me. Come on. I’ll show you.”
They walked through the elegant boutique with the plush carpeting and soothing music. At the rear of the store, they stepped past heavy curtains and found themselves in a plain corridor. Victoria walked purposefully toward a simple door. She pushed it open and then moved to the side.
“Prepare to be amazed,” she said.
Maggie stepped inside. There were dozens of racks, all crammed with beautiful clothes. Pantsuits and dresses, blouses, skirts.
“I don’t get it. Why are these here?” she asked.
“Consignment,” Victoria told her in a low, amused voice. “The very rich and elegant bring their barely worn clothes here where hardworking young women can buy them for pennies on the dollar. How do you think I can afford to dress like I do? I get a four-hundred-dollar blouse for all of fifty dollars. You can find anything here and the quality is amazing. I love this place. Seriously, the evening wear is discounted the most because so few people have any interest in it. The stuff is practically free.”
That was a discount Maggie could get behind. “They really have ball gowns here?”
“They have everything. Because I’m short and chubby, I’ll be buying used. You, on the other hand, are tall and willowy so you can probably squeeze your tiny butt into a sample. Not that I’m bitter.”
Maggie grinned. “Willowy is a nice way to say flat chested.”
Victoria wove through the dozens of racks until she found one with her name on it. She quickly sorted through the dresses and handed Maggie six.
“Now we try them on,” Victoria said.
Maggie took them into the large dressing room on the left while her friend took the one on the right. As she pulled off her jeans and her T-shirt, she had trouble believing she was really trying on dresses for an actual ball. Three weeks ago, she’d been attempting to sort out her life in Aspen. How could so much have changed so quickly?
Unable to find the answer, she pulled on the first dress. It was peach, with a fitted bodice and a tiered skirt that fell in waves of shimmering fabric. Victoria ripped back the curtain and sucked in her breath.
“I knew you’d look fabulous. That dress is amazing.”
“It’s unusual,” Maggie said, facing her reflection. She had to admit that the color was good for her, but she wasn’t sure about the fluffy skirt.
“It’s couture, honey, and when it looks that good, you say a little prayer. I, of course, am hanging out everywhere and will have to pay to get this sucker hemmed.”
Victoria’s dress was black, strapless and fit her like it had been painted on. Maggie did her best not to be bitter about the curves spilling over the top. But hemming would be required. At least six inches of fabric bunched on the floor.
“Nadim won’t be able to resist you,” she said honestly.
“Aren’t you sweet? He’s managed to resist me very well so far, but I’m not going to think about that. Instead I’m going to talk you into that dress. You’ll be dazzling. I know you’re not interested in Qadir, but there will be plenty of handsome, successful men at the ball. You can dazzle them instead.”
For a second Maggie wondered if Jon would be dazzled. Then she reminded herself she wasn’t going to think about him anymore. Not that way.
In truth, she didn’t want to be involved with him. She just missed him.
“Uh-oh,” Victoria said as she put her hands on her hips. “What aren’t you telling me? There’s a guy, isn’t there? I can tell just by looking at you.”
“There’s no guy,” Maggie told her.
Victoria kept staring.
“Okay, maybe there’s half a guy.”
“Interesting. Which half?”
That made Maggie laugh. “I mean I’m only half involved. Or less, even. I keep telling myself Jon is just a habit.”
“A bad one, I’m guessing.”
“We grew up next door to each other, so I’ve known him all my life. In high school, we started dating. Everyone assumed we would always be together.”
“Including you,” Victoria said.
Maggie nodded. “Then we started drifting apart. I think we both sensed the change, but neither of us wanted to be the first one to say anything. Then my dad got sick. By then we knew it was over, but Jon didn’t want to break up while I was dealing with my dad’s death, so the relationship went on longer than it should have.”
She drew in a breath. “The thing is, we’ve been best friends forever. That’s the part that’s hard to give up. I miss talking to him. But he’s with someone else and the truth is, we’re not best friends anymore.”
Victoria gave her a hug. “I’m sorry. That has to be hard. You lost your guy and your dad so close together. It’s okay to take the time to deal with that.”
“I know. I’m just ready to be over him.”
“Love sucks the big one,” Victoria said firmly. “It’s why I’m never giving away my heart. I want a sensible arrangement with a man who is all about security and convention.”
Maggie was surprised. Victoria seemed spontaneous and fun loving. “Won’t that be boring for you?”
“Nope. I want safe and practical. Did you know it’s a really big deal for a prince to divorce? So they never do. I like that in a man.”
“Part of Nadim’s charm?” Maggie asked.
Her friend nodded. “A lot of it. Plus, my dad can be … difficult.” Victoria shrugged. “Having a prince on my side would really help.”
Maggie sensed there were a lot of secrets in Victoria’s past, but she didn’t want to pry. The other woman would tell her when she was ready.
“I’m going to think about not making a fool of myself,” Maggie muttered. “Is there a book or brochure telling us how we’re supposed to act and stuff, because I could use some pointers.”
Victoria grinned. “I’ll see what I can find. It will be practice for when we attend the wedding.”
A royal wedding? “I don’t think I’ll still be here,” Maggie told her. “I should have the car done in less than two months.”
“The wedding is in six weeks. Apparently As’ad is very anxious to claim his bride. So you’ll get to be there. If nothing else, you can fly back to dance at mine.”
Standing in the dressing area of her suite, Maggie stared at the peach dress practically floating on the hanger. Victoria had been right. It was the perfect choice.
On the floor by the fluffy hem was a shopping bag containing a pair of high-heeled sandals and an evening bag, also purchased from the consignment room at the boutique.
“I’m really going to a royal ball,” Maggie murmured to herself, unable to believe it was happening. She was just some mechanic from Colorado. Stuff like that didn’t happen to her.
She tucked her hands into her pockets to keep herself from reaching for the phone. The need to call Jon was powerful and she wanted to resist. While they had both claimed they would always be friends, the truth was, they weren’t. Not the way they had been.
Everything was different and there was no going back. Everything was—
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