‘‘Aunt Milly?'' Mark repeated, sounding unsure. He eyed her warily.
She'd said this much; she might as well launch into the whole ridiculous tale.
‘‘Actually, it has more to do with the wedding dress than with my aunt Milly, although by now the two of them are inseparable in my mind. I don't usually dabble in this sort of thing, but I'm beginning to believe there just might be something supernatural about that silly dress, after all.''
‘‘Supernatural?''
‘‘Magic, if you prefer.''
‘‘Magic in a wedding dress?'' Mark gazed hopefully at the door that led to the inner offices of Internal Revenue, as though he was anxious to be called away.
‘‘It's unbelievable, but the dress fits both Jill and me-which is virtually impossible. You saw Jill-she's the friend I was having lunch with last Saturday. I know we were halfway across the room from you, but you couldn't help noticing how much shorter she is than I am. We're completely different sizes.''
Mark hurriedly reached for the magazine as if he wanted to shut her out again before she said anything else.
‘‘I know it sounds crazy. I don't like this any better than you do, but I'm honestly afraid it was you Aunt Milly mentioned in her letter.'' Well, it was only fair to tell him that.
Mark glanced in her direction again, blue eyes suspicious. ‘‘Your aunt Milly mentioned me in a letter?''
‘‘Not by name-but she said she had a clear vision of me in the wedding dress and I was standing with a tall man. She also mentioned blue eyes. You're tall and you have blue eyes and the legend says I'm going to marry the first man I meet after receiving the dress.''
‘‘And I just happened to be that man?''
‘‘Yes,'' Shelly cried. ‘‘Now do you understand why I was so disturbed when we met?''
‘‘Not entirely,'' Mark said after a moment.
Shelly rolled her eyes. How obtuse could the man be? ‘‘You're tall, aren't you? And you have blue eyes.''
He flipped intently through the magazine, not looking up at her as he spoke. ‘‘Actually, I really don't care what the letter said, nor am I concerned about this wedding dress you keep mentioning.''
‘‘Of course you don't care,'' Shelly said indignantly. ‘‘Why should you? It must all seem quite absurd to you. And I'm aware that I'm overreacting, but I do have a tendency to get emotional about things. If it helps any, I want you to know I'm content with my life just the way it is. I don't want to get married now-to anyone.'' When she'd finished, she sucked in a deep breath and began leafing idly through a magazine, doing her utmost to ignore him.
Silence returned. Silences had always bothered Shelly. It was as if she felt personally responsible for filling them. ‘‘If you want something to be grateful about, you can thank your lucky stars I didn't mention you to my mother.''
‘‘Your mother,'' Mark repeated, briefly glancing at her. ‘‘Does she know about Aunt Milly sending you this … dress?''
‘‘Naturally she does,'' Shelly answered, closing the magazine. ‘‘She's phoned me every day since she heard, because she thinks I'm going to meet that special someone any minute.''
‘‘And you didn't mention me?''
‘‘How could I? The instant I do that, she'll be contacting the caterers.''
‘‘I see.'' The edges of his mouth lifted as though he was beginning to find the situation amusing. ‘‘She believes in the power of this dress, too?''
‘‘Unfortunately, yes. You have to understand where my mother stands on this marriage business,'' Shelly continued, undaunted.
‘‘I'm not sure I want to,'' Mark muttered under his breath.
Shelly disregarded his comment. ‘‘By age twenty-eight-my age now, coincidentally-Mom had been married for eight years and already had three children. She's convinced I'm letting the best years of my life slip away. There's nothing I can say to make her believe differently.''
‘‘Then I'll add my gratitude that you didn't mention me.''
Mollified, Shelly nodded, then glanced at her watch. Her meeting was in ten minutes and she was nervous, since this was the first time she'd done her own taxes. She should have known there'd be a problem.
‘‘I take it you're here for an audit?'' Mark asked.
She nodded again, studying her tax return, sure she'd be in jail by nightfall without even understanding what she'd done wrong.
‘‘Relax.''
‘‘How can I?''
‘‘Have you knowingly hidden something from the government? Lied about the income you received, or claimed expenditures you've never made?''
‘‘Oh, no!''
‘‘Then you don't have anything to worry about.''
‘‘I don't?'' Shelly stared at him, soaking up his confidence. She'd been restless for days, worrying about this meeting. If it wasn't the wedding dress giving her nightmares, it was the audit.
‘‘Don't volunteer any information unless they ask for it.''
‘‘All right.''
‘‘Did you prepare your own tax return?''
‘‘Well, yes. It didn't seem that complicated, and well, I realize this sounds silly but Jill bet me I couldn't do it. So I did. Back in February. You see, usually numbers boggle my mind and I decided to accept the challenge, and … '' She realized she was chattering, something she did when she was nervous. Forcing herself to stay quiet, she scanned her return for the hundredth time, wondering what she could have possibly done wrong.
‘‘Do you want me to check it over for you?''
Shelly was surprised by his generosity. ‘‘If you wouldn't mind. Are you being audited yourself?''
Mark smiled and shook his head. ‘‘A client of mine is.''
‘‘Oh.''
Mark crossed the room and sat next to her. When Shelly handed him her tax return, his gaze ran quietly down the row of figures, then he asked her several questions.
‘‘I've got everything right here,'' she assured him, gesturing toward the carton she'd lugged in with her. ‘‘I really am careful about saving everything I should.''
Mark glanced down at the large cardboard box. ‘‘This is all for one year?''
‘‘No,'' she admitted sheepishly. ‘‘I brought along everything I had for the past six years. I mean, it made sense at the time.''
‘‘That really wasn't necessary.''
‘‘I'd rather be safe than sorry,'' Shelly said, managing a small grin. She watched Mark as he scrutinized her return. At such close range, she saw that his eyes were even bluer than she'd thought. Blue as the sky on a bright July afternoon, she told herself fancifully. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, and hard as she tried, she couldn't keep from staring.
Mark handed back her return. ‘‘Everything looks fine. I don't think you'll have a problem.''
It was amazing how relieved she felt at hearing that. No, at hearing that from him. Mark smiled at her and Shelly found herself responding readily with a smile of her own. The fluttery sensation returned to her stomach. She knew her eyes were wide and questioning and although she tried to look away, she couldn't make herself do it.
A look of surprise mingled with gentleness came over Mark's features, as if he were seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. He liked what he saw-Shelly could read that in his eyes. Slowly his gaze traveled over her features, and she felt her pulse tripping into double time. The letter she'd received from Aunt Milly flitted across her mind, but instead of dismissing the memory, she wondered, Could there really be something to all this?
Mark was the one to break eye contact. He stood abruptly and hurried back to his seat. ‘‘I don't think you have much to be concerned about.''
‘‘Yes, you told me.''
‘‘I mean about your aunt Milly's wedding dress.''
‘‘I don't have anything to worry about?'' Shelly wasn't sure she understood.