{Wattys Shortlist 2022}
A one night stand is turned inside out when two strangers discover their shared past.
After a skydiving excursion that ends in a whirlwind one night stand, Camilla writes off ever seeing her handsome instructor again. That...
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Saturday morning, my family and I boarded an early flight to New York City and checked into our hotel—which was located right on Broadway.
New York had a different feel than any other city I'd been to. People moved along the streets in a never-ending tide that seemed to stretch on forever.
Over the past month, I'd gotten used to the quiet seaside feel of Newport, and the lack of fresh ocean air reminded me just how much I loved the salty breeze.
Mom and I spent the day shopping while my dad teleworked from the hotel suite. His new flag aide, Lieutenant Connor Fitzpatrick, a cute officer with an even cuter Boston accent, had flown with us.
Connor was in charge of keeping my dad's schedule and making sure the busy admiral had everything he needed to make important decisions.
After returning from my hair appointment, I slipped into a flowing crimson gown that made me feel like I was about to walk the red carpet. Delicate crystals adorned the top, and it hugged my hips just right. I struggled to pull the zipper up all the way, and was trying not to catch the material.
A soft knock sounded on the bathroom door.
"Camilla—it's Lieutenant Fitzpatrick. Sorry to bother you, but your parents are ready to leave."
I opened the door, dress half-zipped. "Would you mind helping me with this?" I asked.
His bright blue eyes widened before a little smile formed onto his face. A cute blush creeping between his freckles.
"Sure, no problem. Anything to help."
I turned around and felt his warm hands on my back. Connor struggled for only a second before the zipper was up and I was ready to go. When I turned back around, his cheeks were as red as my gown.
"Wow, you look really beautiful."
"Thanks," I replied. I went to grab my purse at the same time Connor took a step forward—and we bumped into each other—his shoe catching on the flowy hem of my dress.
Then I heard it. The sound of ripping seams and tearing fabric.
"Shit! I'm sorry!" The words were out of Connor's mouth before I saw the damage.
The top and bottom pieces of my dress had separated, leaving a gaping hole under my bust line, exposing inches of the tattoo my parents didn't know I had.
Shocked wasn't the right word for how I felt.
"Camilla, we're waiting!" my dad called from the hallway. "The car is ready."
Connor gave me a terrified look. He had just started working for my dad, and I knew he was trying hard to make a good impression. It was something I could sympathize with. But I certainly couldn't go to the ceremony in a ripped dress.
