From Mishap to Kisshap: Valerie & Amara

Chapter 1 — Everyone Saw It The sound was tiny. A soft rip somewhere beneath the music. Valerie stopped halfway down the grand staircase. The woman behind her stopped too. “Oh no,” someone near the railing whispered. “What?” “Her dress.” Valerie reached behind herself, felt the opened seam, and went completely still. A few guests noticed. Then more. A man below the staircase looked away quickly. His wife did not. “That poor woman.” Before anyone else moved, a woman in a black evening gown stepped forward, pulled the gold wrap from her shoulders and placed it around Valerie from behind. “Don’t turn around,” she said quietly. “Just stay with me.” Valerie looked back. For a second, embarrassment disappeared from her face. She simply stared. The other woman stared back. “Well,” the wife near the railing murmured. Her husband glanced at her. “What?” “I don't think she's thinking about the dress anymore.” The woman in black guided Valerie away from the staircase, keeping the wrap securely around her. Fifteen minutes later they returned. Valerie's gown was repaired. The woman in black was beside her. “They're still together,” the husband said. “Obviously.” Valerie said something. The woman smiled. Valerie touched her arm. Then, in full view of half the staircase, she leaned forward and kissed her. Several people gasped. Someone actually applauded. The husband stared. “Did they know each other?” His wife smiled. “They do now.” Chapter 2 — Valerie I felt the dress open before I heard it. One second I was walking down the staircase trying to look as though I belonged at an event where everyone seemed to know exactly where to stand and whom to greet. The next I could feel cool air against my back. I froze. Please, no. Then I heard someone whisper. That was worse. I reached behind myself and felt the open seam. I wanted the staircase to swallow me. “Don't turn around.” Her voice came from behind me. Calm. Close. Then something warm settled around my shoulders and back. A gold wrap. “I've got you,” she said. I looked over my shoulder. That was my second problem. She was stunning. Dark curls, black gown, gold earrings, beautiful eyes fixed on mine as if the rest of the staircase did not exist. “Thank you,” I managed. “Walk with me.” I would have followed her anywhere at that point. She took me into a small side parlor and closed the door. “I'm Amara.” “Valerie.” “I design clothes,” she said, opening a tiny sewing kit. “So tonight you're either very lucky or I'm very nosy.” I laughed. That helped. Then she stepped behind me and began repairing the seam. Her fingers were careful. Too careful. I became aware of every touch. “You're very quiet,” she said. “I'm trying not to die of embarrassment.” “You're doing well.” “I’m also trying not to stare at you.” She stopped. I regretted saying it immediately. Then Amara moved around until she was in front of me. “That's different.” “Is it?” “Yes.” She smiled. My heart kicked. When she finished, she stepped back. “There. Crisis over.” I should have thanked her and returned to the gala. Instead I said, “Do you have to leave?” Her expression softened. “No.” We walked back together. At the staircase I stopped her. People were watching again. For once, I didn't care. I touched her arm. “Thank you.” “You already said that.” “I know.” Then I kissed her. Chapter 3 — Amara I noticed Valerie before her dress broke. It would be dishonest to pretend otherwise. She was halfway across the ballroom when I first saw her—blonde, elegant, silver-blue gown, looking composed enough to intimidate half the room. Then the zipper failed. I knew exactly what had happened. And I knew exactly how cruel a room like that could be. So I moved. “Don't turn around.” She looked back anyway. That was when helping became complicated. She had beautiful eyes. Very beautiful eyes. I wrapped my shawl around her. “I've got you.” The moment I said it, something changed in her face. Trust, maybe. Or attraction. I hoped attraction. Once we were alone, I opened my emergency sewing kit. “You carry that around?” she asked. “I'm a designer. Other people carry lipstick.” That made her laugh. I liked her laugh immediately. I repaired the seam slowly, partly because the damage required patience and partly because I suddenly did not want to hurry. She was trying very hard not to look at me. Then she said, “I'm also trying not to stare at you.” My hands stopped. I walked around to face her. “That's different.” “Is it?” “Yes.” Because now I knew. When the dress was secure, I almost wished it wasn't. “There. Crisis over.” She looked disappointed. That pleased me far more than it should have. “Do you have to leave?” “No.” So we went back together. Near the staircase she stopped. Everyone who had watched the disaster was probably watching us again. Valerie touched my arm. “Thank you.” “You already said that.” “I know.” She leaned closer. I knew exactly what was about to happen. I could have stepped back. I didn't. Valerie kissed me beneath the chandelier, in front of the same people who had watched her dress come apart fifteen minutes earlier. Somebody gasped. Somebody laughed. I heard applause. Valerie pulled away just enough to look at me. “Still embarrassed?” I whispered. She smiled. “Not even slightly.” So I kissed her again.