Free When Dreams Cross by Terri Blackstock Page B

most of his stuff moved into the building when he realized that the time was sneaking up on him. While his staff was in his living room—formerly his studio—discussing where they would all eat that evening, he had slipped away to take a shower.
    He had plenty of time, he told himself, and as he dressed in the silly tuxedo shirt he’d rented earlier that day, he wished that he could appear at the reception as himself—in jeans and sneakers. But being part of corporate America meant making a few concessions, he supposed. He tucked the shirt in, put on his cummerbund, and wondered who had invented a getup like this. It was neither practical nor reasonable, and he felt like a clown dressing in it now. He looked down at the limp tie in his hand, and wondered how in the world he would tie it.
    “Madeline!” he yelled through the door.
    “Yeah!” she shouted back.
    “Come give me a hand with this blasted tie, will you?”
    Madeline came around the corner, her curls bouncing in her face, and she laughed out loud at the sight of him. “I never thought I’d see the day!” she said. “You look like a million bucks. Guys!” she shouted. “Come get a load of this!”
    The others filled the doorway quickly, mocking him with catcalls and whoops. “I told you,” Madeline teased. “You’re lookin’ good.”
    He shot them looks that said he wasn’t buying. “Can you tie this tie? It’s too short. I can’t figure out—”
    “It’s a bow tie, Einstein. Here, let me do it.” Mechanically, she began to tie the tie. “I didn’t have three brothers for nothing, you know. Andi’s gonna swoon, Justin. The minute she lays eyes on you, she’s just gonna swoon.”
    “Andi’s never swooned in her life,” he said irritably.
    “You watch. When you walk in, she’ll have to grab onto something.” She demonstrated by grabbing onto a chair. “Her eyes will roll back up in her head. Her face will turn pink, and she’ll stumble back …”
    He laughed as she pretended to faint, then caught herself. “Now when she does it, Justin, you have to get right over there and catch her. It’s the only gentlemanly thing to do.”
    Still laughing, he checked the tie in the mirror, wishing he could loosen it a little. “You sure don’t know Andi Sherman.”
    “Justin, I’m a woman. I see things that you can’t. I saw the look on Andi’s face last night when she was here. This relationship may have been dormant for eight years, but it’s not dead for her, either.”
    “Either?” he asked. “What do you mean, ‘either’?”
    She chuckled. “I mean that I think the feeling is mutual. I’ve never seen two people more enamored of each other, yet putting on such a front. Who are you trying to kid, anyway? She’s knock-dead gorgeous, she’s generous, she’s sweet … and you were in love with her once. My money says you still are.”
    “Yeah, well, your money is weak with anemia. It’s not thinking clearly.”
    “Not true. I injected it today with that fat check you gave me.” Giggling, she started out of the room. “We’re heading out to eat. Have fun at the reception.”
    “Yeah, big fun,” he said without much hope.
    He heard them all milling out of the house, the door closing behind them. He checked his watch. He was running forty-five minutes early, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to get there early, hang around in his new studio for a while, and get his ducks all in a row. He had to admit he was a little nervous. He had never done a press conference/reception before, and he sure didn’t want to look like a bumbling fool around Andi.
    He looked for his keys, found them in his jeans pocket lying over a chair, and pulled them out. He checked to see if he’d forgotten anything, then stepped out of the side door.
    Absent-mindedly, he unlocked the door to his car and started to get in, when he realized that there were three cars in the driveway behind him, blocking him in. They had all left in the fourth.
    “Oh,