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Chapter 30
Seconds pass, followed by minutes. A warm, strong hand touches my back. I open my eyes to see Jarrod. He's dressed in a tuxedo with tails. He looks like Cary Grant. "You're okay," he tells me, but it comes out more like a question than a statement. I try to answer, but my mouth is dry and my tongue is swollen. I might be having anaphylactic shock. Is it possible to be allergic to couture? "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he whispers. His eyes are big and thoughtful. I can tell that he's afraid. Afraid of losing his company or afraid of being humiliated in front of three hundred guests? Or maybe just afraid that I'll reject him? No, the last option is impossible. He looks like Cary Grant in his tuxedo. He looks like the best opportunity I'll ever get. "I can do it," I
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