Chapter 5
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“What the hell am I going to wear?” A groan of frustration escapes my lips as I take off the tenth outfit I’ve tried on today, a tank top and a black skirt. “I need something by tonight,” I say to Sam through the dressing room door, a hint of desperation in my voice.
After I apologized to Sam for leaving girls’ night early, she jumped at the chance to come shopping with me, and I have to admit, it feels great spending time with her.
I peek out from behind the door and find her sitting on the floor looking up at me, piles of clothes heaped haphazardly around her.
“Everything is either too plain, too frumpy, or too casual,” she says. “Perhaps you should just take Mike’s suggestion and wear your underwear.” She tries to keep a straight face, but when we look at each other we burst into a fit of giggles.
“Hmmm.” Sam looks around, assessing the pile of clothes we have created. “I’ll be back in a second!” She jumps up and makes her way to a rack of clothes at the back of the store. I shut the door and start to take the clothes off carefully, folding the shirt and skirt and sitting them on the bench beside me.
I look at myself in the mirror, my light green eyes staring back at me, surrounded by freckles that refuse to disappear even after a long winter. My eyes trail down my body, lingering on the black bra and underwear that I’m wearing. I shake my head at the idea of wearing only this to work, with every part of my body on display. I run my hands over my stomach, my hands dipping as they move along my curves. It took me a long time to feel comfortable in my own skin, and while I like to think I’m confident, I don’t think I’m brazen enough to ever wear just this to work.
The door bursts open, and I jump in response to the commotion behind me as Sam hurtles herself into the changeroom with me. I shriek, trying to cover myself as the other customers in the store are given a full view of me in nothing but my underwear.
I close the door quickly, and Sam gives me an apologetic look as she hands me a black dress made of very little fabric.
“Try this on,” she says, her eyes glittering.
The dress clings to my body as I slip it on, the satin fabric soft against my skin as it hugs my curves in all the right places. My breasts look fuller than usual, and the dress is short, almost too short, my upper thighs on full display.
“Here, add these as well.” She hands me black thigh-high stockings, as well as a pair of shiny black heels to complete my look. I do a spin in the mirror, not hating what I see. Unlike the crop tops and corsets I tried on earlier, this outfit makes me feel sexy, not exposed.
Sam nods enthusiastically in approval. “Damn, Evi, you look hot!”
I smile back at her, and even though I wish there was more fabric to the dress, I can’t help but feel my confidence soar at my reflection in the mirror. This is the outfit.