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dresses on. They each took turns modeling in front of the wall of mirrors and each other.
    In the end, Emily chose the emerald green gown, and Aimee, the long red dress. Both of them were glowing with pleasure as they placed their boxes into the trunk.
    After another hour shopping for the perfect shoes, they slid into a booth at Emily’s favorite lunch spot. She was stopped everywhere they went, each person seeming to know her, and compelled to inform her of their guaranteed presence at the auction. She was gracious to each of them, sincerely thanking them for their support, and always introducing Aimee more as a friend than an employee.
    They each ordered a salad, laughing at the fact that they would be eating a lot of them if they were still going to fit into their dresses by the date of the auction.
    “I think it’s coming together superbly. I can’t thank you enough for all your hard work. I just kind of threw you to the wolves, and you handled it with ease,” Emily said, tipping her glass toward Aimee’s.
    “It’s been a great experience so far. It’s for a wonderful cause.” She took a sip from her own glass. “Is it hard for you? I mean, you have to always keep him so close to do this sort of work.” She asked, wanting to know about Nathan Talbot, but treading lightly, unsure of her right to ask.
    “You mean Nathan?” Realizing she did, Emily continued. “I do keep him close, but it’s not hard. He was unforgettable to me. If I can spare just one other person the pain of losing someone they love to this horrible disease, then every dollar, every hour, every step is worth it.”
    “Does it get easier? The pain of losing him I mean?”
    Emily shook her head, her eyes becoming distant as a single tear slowly rolled down her cheek.
    • • •
    “I can still remember the day we met … ” Her voice was barely a whisper as she transported herself back in time, thirty-two years.
    It was the night of her debutante ball. Her white dress was cinched at her small waist and flowed to the ground like a bell. Her long blond hair was pulled up in a pearl comb that had been her grandmother’s. She felt like Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind , with her long gloves and hooped skirt, and her handsome escort, dressed in a white tuxedo, standing beside her. She was waiting in line to be ushered to her father for her time-honored introduction to society when she saw him. He was standing in line, just three girls ahead of her, on the arm of Sally May Covens. He’d taken her breath away.
    Their eyes met and sparks flew. She’d known at that very moment that he would be hers.
    After the girls were each presented, the music started and couples began to float onto the dance floor. She held onto the arm of her escort, but her eyes were scanning the room for him. When she spotted him, she realized he was also looking for her. They smiled, and her heart skipped a beat when he purposely led his date toward them on the floor. As they each took their positions for the upcoming waltz, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, asking her to escape to the terrace after the dance was finished. She nodded her head in acceptance and allowed herself to be whisked away by her partner, praying that the song would end quickly.
    When the last note played, she gently curtsied to her partner and, excusing herself, quickly made her way to the terrace. As she walked through the doors she saw him leaning casually against the stone railing, a single pink rose in his gloved hand.
    When he noticed her, he stood up tall and proud, his eyes seeming to take in every detail of her as she slowly floated toward him.
    “This is for you,” he said, handing her the rose.
    She attempted to thank him but couldn’t find the words to speak as she tenderly took the rose from his hand.
    “I’m Nathan Talbot. And you would be?”
    “I’m Emily. Emily Sinclair.” She could feel the fluttering of her heart as she looked up into his handsome face.
    “I