Free All About Charming Alice by J. Arlene Culiner Page B

they’re fine … ” Her voice drifted off.
    “I get the message,” Alice rolled her eyes heavenward. “Since I’ll be wearing a tulip-shaped dress that will make me look like a strange stick insect, and heels high enough to break my neck in, I need the appropriate hairstyle.”
    “Message received.”
    • • •
    Jace went up to his room to change. The house was perfectly silent. No sign of the dogs, no sign of the unpredictable Alice. She hadn’t run out on him, had she? He didn’t like to think about that possibility, although he knew that there was a chance of it happening: he’d thought about it all day.
    He put on his blue shirt, made a face, ripped it off and went for the gray. No, that was even worse. The striped tie that had seemed so suitable in Chicago looked miserable right now. Why had he even bought the thing? Finally, he settled for a white shirt and well-cut navy slacks. He felt like a tied pot roast in the tweed jacket.
    Calm down, Jace. You’re taking a lady out to dinner. You’ve done this a thousand times before in your life.
So why was he feeling like a teenager on his first date? And in Blake’s Folly, of all places. Anyone would think he was getting ready for the flash of Chicago High Society. But the little voice in his head pointed out, once again, that he hadn’t felt this pleased to be going out with any woman in his acquaintance for quite a long time — be it in Chicago, Paris, Los Angeles, or anywhere.
    He kept one ear cocked, listening intently. Still no sound from anywhere in the house. He was becoming more and more certain she was standing him up, and his sharp shard of disappointment mingled with faint anger. Enough was enough. His male pride had been taking severe blows over the last few days and, frankly, he wasn’t masochistic enough to continue with the game. Then he remembered the way Alice’s lips had felt against his, the way he’d felt her body responding to his, and the wave of hurt pride receded a bit. “But you have to know when to quit,” he said to himself. If she really did stand him up tonight, he was clearing out of here.
    Why keep fighting a losing battle?
    So where was she? He stormed out into the hallway. She’d better be somewhere in this house. He wasn’t about to go out and scour the desert looking for her.
    He knew where her bedroom was: at the end of the long corridor leading to the back of the house. And right now, its dark, wooden door was closed to him, to the whole world. But doors were made to be opened too.
    He knocked. “Alice? Are you in there?”
    “Yes.” Her voice was hesitant, faint.
    So she hadn’t run away. She’d been here all the time. He let out his pent-up breath. “Alice … uh … are you ready?”
    Silence.
    “Alice? What are you doing in there?”
    “I’m hiding, I think.” He heard her burst of laughter.
    “Why are you hiding?” He was almost shouting with relief.
    “Because I feel so strange in these clothes, I don’t know who I am anymore. Oh … I guess I’m just feeling shy.”
    “Look, I’m coming in.” If the door was locked, he was feeling crazy enough to bash it down. It wasn’t.
    He took a step into the room. Stared. Stared some more.
    Damn
. If he hadn’t known it was Alice there, he wouldn’t have recognized her. Not right away, anyhow. Her shining hair was parted on one side, caught in a tiny barrette before cascading to her shoulders in a smooth sheen. She’d put on makeup too, just a faint touch of mascara and shadow. And a dark blush of lipstick that matched her burgundy dress.
    His eyes slid over her, not missing an inch, taking in the narrow waist, her soft curves, the long legs. She looked magnificent.
    “Now I see why you always try to hide yourself under faded print rags. You look too wonderful.” The words sounded too banal for such a radical transformation.
    She blushed deeply. “You look pretty wonderful yourself.” She smiled shyly, warmly.
    “Thanks.” He saw the little