Catch Your Breath

Chapter 1-2

Moira O’Leary scanned her closet for the right gown for the fund-raiser for Children’s Memorial—correction: Lurie Children’s Hospital. It didn’t matter if she’d grown up knowing it as Children’s Memorial. If she didn’t get it right in the article, she’d be a laughingstock.

“Ooo…what about this one?” Her friend Kathy pulled out a simple little black dress.

“Not formal enough. I need floor length for this party.” It looked like she needed to make another trip to the consignment shop.

“Rough life you have. Getting dressed up and pretty in order to drink with a bunch of rich people who are donating money for a good cause. Shoot, how do I get in on that gig?” Kathy replaced the dress in the closet.

Moira smiled. All anyone ever saw of her life was the glamorous parties. “Yeah, that’s my charmed life. Champagne and bonbons.”

She laughed it off. It was easier than trying to convince anyone that she held a real job. No one ever saw her at three in the morning struggling to get words on the page to meet a deadline. They all forgot the years she wrote obituaries and suburban city council meeting articles.

“Really, Moira. Can’t you get me in to one of these parties? I’m thinking it would be a great place to meet a guy. It would be like The Millionaire Matchmaker without Patti being mean to me.” She plopped on Moira’s bed.

“If I had an extra invite, I would. I get one, and I usually have to beg for that. Plus, I’ve yet to see an unattached guy who I’d like to date.” She’d been to enough functions to realize that having money didn’t make those guys any better than the ones they’d meet at her family’s bar or her brother’s bowling alley. “Come on, I need to go shopping. I can’t wear the same dress I wore last week to tomorrow’s party. I need to spread them out or people will notice.”

Kathy stood and Moira felt a twinge of jealousy at Kathy’s height. Her friend stood a good six inches taller. Moira hated having to get every garment tailored.

“You’re going to show me your secret shopping places? Do I need a special invite or do they let lowly people like me in?” She flashed a bright smile and gathered her wildly curly hair in a ponytail.

“If they let me in, I’m sure they’ll love you.” Moira grabbed her purse and did some quick mental calculations to see how much she could afford to spend and still make rent. She couldn’t wait to make a real name for herself so she wouldn’t have to worry about how much a dress cost.

She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one to Kathy, who was holding the invitation for Moira’s ten-year high school reunion.

“Going?” she asked.

Moira shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know if I’m up for it.”

“Go. It’s fun. I told you I had a blast at mine last month. If nothing else, you get to poke fun at all the people who haven’t done as well as you have.”

“High school all over again.” The problem with that was Moira hadn’t done as well as she’d expected. Although she had a decent job, she hadn’t gotten the recognition she’d hoped for. She also hadn’t gotten married and had no family. s**t, she didn’t even have a boyfriend. It was like high school all over again.

“I know that look. You’ve done well for yourself. Just find some really hot guy to go with you.”

“Easy for you to say. Come on, we have dresses to buy.”

Three stores later, Moira found the perfect gown. The emerald green fabric held just a hint of shimmer. She only needed to have it shortened. For a change, the bust and waist both fit, an anomaly for which she was grateful. Usually, she needed to take in the waist and shorten it, or figure out how to let out some room in the bust, which was hard, so she tended to opt for sizes much too big for the rest of her body. She’d gladly give up a couple of cup sizes to add a few measly inches in leg.

As she carried her new dress into her apartment, her phone rang. She juggled the keys and phone with the dress as she opened the door. “Hey, Ry, what’s up?”

“How’s my favorite sister?”

She rolled her eyes. Ryan liked to think he was the only one who knew when people were calling for a favor. “Right now, I’m the only sister you have on this continent. Not too hard to be the favorite. What do you need?”

“A babysitter for tomorrow night?”

“Sorry, no can do. You know I love baby Patrick, but I have a work thing tomorrow night.” She tossed her keys on the coffee table and hung the dress on the back of her bedroom door. “How about Sunday?”

“I have to be at the bar on Sunday.”

Moira sighed. Ryan always did stuff for the rest of them. “How about during the day? I can spend the afternoon at your house and head out to the party from there.”

Ryan went silent and she knew he was considering the option. “That might work. Let me talk to Quinn.”

“Let me know.” She disconnected and called her mom, seamstress extraordinaire. “Hi, Mom. I bought a new dress. Any chance you can hem it for me?”

“When do you need it?”

“For tomorrow?”

Her mother tsked like she always did.

“I just bought it today, and it fits really well. Except for the length, of course.”

“But when did you know you needed a dress? When did you go shopping for it?”

Mom had her there. So she procrastinated. In her defense, had she gone shopping earlier, she probably wouldn’t have gotten this perfect dress. “You should be used to it by now. It’s not like I became an adult and suddenly started procrastinating. I’ve waited until the last minute for everything my whole life.”

“Come for dinner and I’ll do it after.”

“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

Her mom disconnected without acknowledging her gratitude. Her mother would make a real dinner, so Moira was getting a double bonus.

Unfortunately, this was a pretty typical Friday night for her. For a long time, she thought things were good—she was getting where she wanted to be. But now, she watched her older brothers all find love and she felt like she was missing out.

Like when she was a teenager and they all had girlfriends. Many girlfriends. But they scared off any guy who came looking for her.

She liked having protective brothers, but damn, she wanted a little taste of what they had. No, a taste would never be enough. She wanted the whole shebang, her own fairy tale.

Hanging out with her mom on a Friday night wouldn’t get her there.