Chapter Sixteen
The weekend arrived. Half-past five with less than an hour to go and Amanda was more nervous than she’d ever been.
That was saying something, since her top three peak, nervous spots included an audience with Queen Elizabeth, bungee jumping off the side of a cliff, and telling the leader of the free world, also known as Dad, that she wouldn’t return to college after she’d finished recuperating from the explosion.
Amanda shook that fiery nightmare from her head and focused on tonight.
In less than an hour, she’d meet Hagan and be on her first date in years.
She checked her reflection in the mirror and approved.
She’d added a touch of makeup, pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, and appreciated the way her white blouse contrasted against her features.
Her jeans were cute, if not practical, but the more she stared at them, the more two-dimensional she felt.
Clothes were a tool to blend in. She didn’t want anyone to remember if they’d seen her.
But that wasn’t a great stylistic foundation when dressing for a date.
She flung her closet door wide and saw much of the same.
Jeans and khakis, long skirts and dresses that did more to cover her up than make her feel beautiful.
The hangers scratched as she sorted through her options.
Nothing would work—a box on a shelf above the hangers caught her attention.
She pushed onto her tiptoes and pulled it down.
A thin layer of dust had settled on the silver cardboard container.
Amanda carried it to the bathroom vanity and lifted the lid.
Her eyes widened. The bright red linen dress remained as breathtaking as she remembered when her Mom and Dad had sent the gift on her first day in Abu Dhabi.
The small note card laid on top of the dress that she’d never had the courage to remove from the box.
She opened the card and reread her Mom’s handwriting above their signatures. Let the adventure begin.
Was today that day? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen the world, though, she hadn’t necessarily explored it. She lifted the dress. Tissue paper fell away as its skirt fell out, and she whispered, “Wow.”
Light creases could be quickly steamed or ironed out, and if it fit, it would be the perfect first date dress.
She laid it flat and switched on both the steamer and iron, then paced, more anxious than before—but also electrified.
Her phone buzzed, and grateful for the distraction, she saw that it was Halle and answered, “I was just about to call you.”
Halle waited a beat. “Everything okay?”
Amanda heard the caution in Halle’s voice and nodded, grateful that Halle’s first reaction was always to prepare for the worst. “Yes. I wanted to let you know where I would be later.”
Halle hesitated. “Where will you be?”
Perhaps she should start from the beginning, otherwise Halle might think Amanda was in trouble and forced to recite a story about a date. Danger was far more likely than meeting an unknown man for dinner. “I met an interesting guy—”
“Wait, what?”
Amanda laughed. “I knew you’d say that. But I did. He might think I’m nuts, but—” Nerves exploded in her stomach like fireworks. “He said I was beautiful.”
“Like a real, live person?”
Amanda bristled. She knew the idea would sound far-fetched, but couldn’t Halle rein in her doubt? “That’s what I’m trying to explain.”
“You spoke with someone outside your—stop, start over.” The hint of irritation enveloped her words. “Brief me from the top.”
Her teeth tapped together. “Like I said,” She frowned. “I ran into him in a stairwell.”
“And you just chatted the guy up?”
Maybe Halle hadn’t been the person she needed to speak to before her date. “Yeah. It’s what people do.”
“Not you,” Halle accused.
“You’re right. I patted him down, panicked, and then kicked him in the groin.” Amanda gritted her teeth and forced a steadier breath. “And he still asked me to dinner.”
“Sounds like a winner.”
“What’s your problem?” Amanda demanded. “I wanted to tell you where I was going. Ya know, to be safe. And, I expected you to be surprised. But not pissed.”
Halle didn’t respond.
Amanda checked the call. They were still connected. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” Halle said. “I’m not pissed. Just—” She huffed. “Do you even know anything about this guy?”
“Honestly?” She cackled. “Not a damn thing, and I can’t wait.”
“Amanda,” Halle softened. “I want you to be careful.”
Her fingers clenched. Amanda tried to appreciate Halle’s worry, but the past only made her frustration grow. “You’re being hypocritical.”
“Don’t—”
“You introduced me to—”
“Don’t say his name,” Halle yelled.
They’d never had this argument. Their friendship had been rooted in school and then work before their personal lives. They never talked about the guy Halle had set Amanda up with, that same guy that Amanda had taken a chance on. “William Taylor Morris.”
“Stop!”
“I knew his name. His major,” Amanda yelled. “I trusted my best friend who set me up with him. I knew everything except how much he wanted to kill me!” Her throat ached, and she collapsed onto the side of the bed. “It should’ve been me.”
The steamer puffed, and the hushed tone woke her past like a train blew its horn. She wiped at her cheeks.
“Nothing about that went like it should. And Dylan?” Halle choked up. “His death fucked my life up too.”
Amanda didn’t have the energy or interest to debate her best friend.
She saw her reflection in the mirror. Puffy eyes and smeared mascara were good reasons to cancel her date.
She retrieved the Bluetooth earbuds that made her think of Hagan and popped them in as the silence stewed between them. “Halle?”
“Yeah?”
She lifted the red dress. “I have a date tonight, and I’m excited.”
Halle inhaled and let it out. “I can’t wait to hear about it.”
Amanda closed her eyes and nodded. “Thanks.”
“So…” Halle laughed awkwardly. “Would it be totally inappropriate to run something by you?”
The pressure in her heart untied. They’d always turned to the safety of work. Offering protection to others had allowed them to heal before, and apparently, tonight. “Shoot.”
“We received a request from the Lebanese government. I’ll forward you the email now.”
Her eyebrow crooked. “A request for proposal?”
“Nope,” Halle said. “A small job they’d rather keep quiet.”
Amanda sat at her vanity and removed the smeared makeup. “Interesting.”
“And time sensitive.”
She touched up her mascara. “An analysis of some type?”
“One that I’d kill to be the point person on.”
Amanda inspected her eyes, then dabbed concealer below the lower lashes. “Then why are you forwarding it to me?”
Halle groaned. “The location. They need someone on the ground, and you’re closer.”
Satisfied with her makeup, Amanda moved the dress to the steamer and hoped she could get away without ironing.
Halle continued to talk shop. Amanda methodically steamed. The back and forth motion coupled with Halle’s clinical summary helped erase the ugly emotion that had reared between them.
They finished the call with Amanda promising to check her email, then she removed her earbuds and checked the mirror. It was time to shed her dull clothes and see if the dress would fit.
She stripped and stood in front of the dress, then before she could shy away from the bright, bull’s-eye color, she slipped it on.
“Oh my…” The skirt swayed softly, and the red made her feel as powerful as she looked. With a decisive move, she pulled out her ponytail and stared, a woman transformed.