forehead. She didn’t want to dance with Asian Michael Jackson. She only wanted to dance with Khải.
She pushed away from the table. “I’m going to find him.”
Vy shook her head. “He might not want—”
Esme didn’t hear the rest of what his sister said. She rushed after Khải, but she searched and searched and couldn’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t in the hotel’s opulent lobby, the sitting rooms, or even the valet area out front. Was he reading in a bathroom somewhere while she was searching for him until her feet throbbed? She was about to knock on the men’s room door, but a sign on a nearby door caught her eye.
It read
Kieu-Ly Changing Suite
. Maybe he was in there? When she found the door unlocked, she let herself in.
The space inside looked like a disaster zone, complete with flats of Coca-Cola, giant bags of chips, and shoes all over the floor. Piles of clothes took up all the sitting space on the small sofa. No Khải in sight.
She spied an open door on the far wall and picked her way through the wreckage to check what was on the other side.
And lost her breath.
The bride’s wedding gown hung from the curtain bar above a tall window. White gossamer fabric caught the soft light just right. Before Esme knew what she was doing, she was floating across the changing room and running her fingertips over the cool skirts. She doubted she would ever wear anything so nice, not even at her own wedding, if she ever got married. She’d heard people whispering that it was a Vera Wang gown and cost
ten thousand dollars
.
But as she stood in the empty room, it occurred to her maybe she
could
wear a dress like this. And she didn’t need to get married to do it. She could wear this dress. Right now. She could do it quickly, just so she knew what it was like, and then continue searching the hotel for Khải. No one had to know.
She unzipped her green dress and let it fall to her feet before she stepped out of her shoes, sighing when her sore feet flattened against the carpet. She hadn’t worn a bra under her dress, and goose bumps rippled over her naked breasts. Wearing nothing but panties, she reached for the dress’s hanger. She arched onto her tiptoes and reached as high as she could. High, higher, but her fingertips couldn’t quite grasp it.
Just as she was coiling up to make a jump for it, the door in the other room squeaked open.
No.
Was it the bride? Was she going to change her dress
again
?
She stood still and held her breath. Measured footsteps padded around. Who was it?
There was the pop and hiss of a can of soda being opened, and the footsteps came closer.
No, no, no, no.
She couldn’t get caught in her underwear like this. Holding her arms to her breasts, she glanced about the room in a blind panic. No way out, only a closet. Without further thought, she sprinted into the closet and shut herself inside.
The door was the shuttered kind, and looking through the slats, she had a good view of the doorway.
Step, step, step, step.
The footsteps sounded heavy, male. Was it the groom? A hotel janitor? What was the most embarrassing thing that could happen? Knowing her stinky luck, she should expect that.
Khải strode into the room.
She pressed her forehead to the closet door in defeat. Of course it was him. He scanned the room and sat in an empty armchair across from the closet. After taking a sip of his Coca-Cola, he set it on the floor by his feet and continued reading the book with the spaceship and alien demon thing on the cover.
She almost groaned in frustration. She couldn’t continue hiding in the closet waiting for him to finish reading when he was reading waiting for her. She had to walk out and explain herself. How could she word things so he didn’t laugh as much?
He reached for his Coke can, but as he was lifting it to his mouth, his gaze caught on something. Following his line of sight, she saw her discarded dress and shoes. Did he recognize them?
Oh no, was he drawing
She pushed away from the table. “I’m going to find him.”
Vy shook her head. “He might not want—”
Esme didn’t hear the rest of what his sister said. She rushed after Khải, but she searched and searched and couldn’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t in the hotel’s opulent lobby, the sitting rooms, or even the valet area out front. Was he reading in a bathroom somewhere while she was searching for him until her feet throbbed? She was about to knock on the men’s room door, but a sign on a nearby door caught her eye.
It read
Kieu-Ly Changing Suite
. Maybe he was in there? When she found the door unlocked, she let herself in.
The space inside looked like a disaster zone, complete with flats of Coca-Cola, giant bags of chips, and shoes all over the floor. Piles of clothes took up all the sitting space on the small sofa. No Khải in sight.
She spied an open door on the far wall and picked her way through the wreckage to check what was on the other side.
And lost her breath.
The bride’s wedding gown hung from the curtain bar above a tall window. White gossamer fabric caught the soft light just right. Before Esme knew what she was doing, she was floating across the changing room and running her fingertips over the cool skirts. She doubted she would ever wear anything so nice, not even at her own wedding, if she ever got married. She’d heard people whispering that it was a Vera Wang gown and cost
ten thousand dollars
.
But as she stood in the empty room, it occurred to her maybe she
could
wear a dress like this. And she didn’t need to get married to do it. She could wear this dress. Right now. She could do it quickly, just so she knew what it was like, and then continue searching the hotel for Khải. No one had to know.
She unzipped her green dress and let it fall to her feet before she stepped out of her shoes, sighing when her sore feet flattened against the carpet. She hadn’t worn a bra under her dress, and goose bumps rippled over her naked breasts. Wearing nothing but panties, she reached for the dress’s hanger. She arched onto her tiptoes and reached as high as she could. High, higher, but her fingertips couldn’t quite grasp it.
Just as she was coiling up to make a jump for it, the door in the other room squeaked open.
No.
Was it the bride? Was she going to change her dress
again
?
She stood still and held her breath. Measured footsteps padded around. Who was it?
There was the pop and hiss of a can of soda being opened, and the footsteps came closer.
No, no, no, no.
She couldn’t get caught in her underwear like this. Holding her arms to her breasts, she glanced about the room in a blind panic. No way out, only a closet. Without further thought, she sprinted into the closet and shut herself inside.
The door was the shuttered kind, and looking through the slats, she had a good view of the doorway.
Step, step, step, step.
The footsteps sounded heavy, male. Was it the groom? A hotel janitor? What was the most embarrassing thing that could happen? Knowing her stinky luck, she should expect that.
Khải strode into the room.
She pressed her forehead to the closet door in defeat. Of course it was him. He scanned the room and sat in an empty armchair across from the closet. After taking a sip of his Coca-Cola, he set it on the floor by his feet and continued reading the book with the spaceship and alien demon thing on the cover.
She almost groaned in frustration. She couldn’t continue hiding in the closet waiting for him to finish reading when he was reading waiting for her. She had to walk out and explain herself. How could she word things so he didn’t laugh as much?
He reached for his Coke can, but as he was lifting it to his mouth, his gaze caught on something. Following his line of sight, she saw her discarded dress and shoes. Did he recognize them?
Oh no, was he drawing
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