Chapter 7 #3
Junie is with her to offer moral support.
“Hold still,” Lisa commands as she tickles my eyelids with an impossibly tiny brush. “I need to get your highlights just right.”
“You should let her do the fake eyelashes,” Junie advises. “It’s like having spiders on your eyelids.”
“I don’t want spiders on my eyelids,” I tell them both. “Or anywhere else on my body.”
“Quit moving around.” Lisa swats at my hand, which I didn’t realize I was using to fiddle with the beachy waves she created for me using a curling iron large enough to deserve its own zip code. “We’re almost done here.”
I resist the urge to sigh like a surly teenager as I glance over at Junie. “Did you decide which dress?” I ask her. “The black or the purple?”
“No,” Junie says.
“No, you haven’t decided?”
“No, you shouldn’t wear those dresses.” Junie walks past the pile of designer cocktail attire Lisa brought over for me. Instead, she reaches into my closet and pulls out a bright yellow dress. “Wear this one.”
I do my best to keep from grimacing. I love Junie for wanting to be involved, but that dress? “I bought that at a thrift store last year when I was planning to go to the costume party as Big Bird.”
I refrain from adding that I gave up on that costume idea when my date—who was supposed to be Oscar the Grouch—bailed at the last minute. It was the sixth time I went alone as a ninja.
“I’ve been meaning to get rid of it,” I add, hoping Junie drops it.
But she holds up the hanger so the garment shimmers and sways. Lisa stops swiping a foamy little sponge over my forehead and stares at the dress. “Where on earth did you get that?”
“The Goodwill shop on Burnside.”
“The one that gets all the castoffs from the wealthy West Hills ladies?” Lisa stands up and fingers the fabric, then peers at the label. “Does this fit you?”
I shrug. “As far as I know. I haven’t gained or lost weight since I bought it. I just never wore it.”
Lisa stares at me and shakes her head in disbelief. “This is a Victoria Beckham Heavy Fluid silk wrap dress with front slit detail. It’s real silk. Do you have any idea what this retails for?”
I try to recall what I paid for it at Goodwill. “Ten bucks?”
“Try twenty-five hundred,” she says. “The tags are still attached.”
She dips a hand into the neckline and pulls up a pile of fancy-looking tags I probably would have noticed if I’d ever worn the dress.
The original price is obscured by a series of clearance stickers marking it down to a cool seven hundred and fifty, but Lisa peels those back to prove her point.
“See?” she says. “This dress sold out in days. It’s from last year, obviously—”
“Obviously,” I mimic, earning myself a swat from Lisa.
“Seriously, it’s a killer dress,” she says. “Why haven’t you worn it?”
“Where was I going to wear it?”
Junie fingers the hem. “It’s soft,” she says. “Ian will like touching it.”
“That’s for sure.” Lisa’s smile turns sultry.
“And it’s yellow,” Junie adds, giving a sharp nod like this decides it all.
It pretty much does.
“Okay, okay,” I mutter. “I’ll try it on.”
“Careful with your hair,” Lisa cautions as I wriggle out of my yoga pants and cami to pull the dress around me.
She hurries around behind me to help with the ties.
It flows around my curves more fluidly than I remember it doing a year ago when I tried it on, and I wonder if all the sex I’ve been having has burned more calories than I realized.
“There.” Lisa straightens the hem and steps back. “Wow.” She grabs me by the shoulders and turns me to face the mirror. “A perfect fit.”
Holy shit, she’s right. I do look pretty hot. The dress slides cool and sleek around my curves, fluttering a little around my thighs.
Junie beams at me in the mirror. “You look bangin’, mama.”
“For crying out loud, Junie.” Lisa rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, Dax taught you that?”
Junie laughs, clearly pleased with herself. “He told me to say that to you the next time you wear that red dress he likes.”
A faint flush creeps into my friend’s cheeks, and I can tell she’s more pleased than annoyed. I ignore the stab of jealousy over Lisa’s loving relationship with her hot biker fiancé. That’s the kind of relationship I always thought I’d have. Or maybe what Cassie has with Simon.
But no, that’s not in the cards for me. And I’m okay with that, I really am.
“Well,” Lisa says. “You’re obviously wearing this dress.”
I survey myself in the mirror again. The dress fits like a dream. The wrap style flatters my waist, while the strappy thing going on up top shows off my shoulders. “And the color is great,” I add, turning to study myself from behind. “It doesn’t look too much like a nightgown?”
“Not a nightgown,” Lisa says. “A sexy negligée. That’s the allure.”
“You look like a fairy princess,” Junie says. “Ian will love you.”
My heart pinches tight in my chest. That’s so not the point, but I don’t have the heart to explain that to Junie. Or to anyone, for that matter.
I take a few breaths to regain my composure as Lisa fusses with my hem. “I can’t believe you had this dress right in front of you the whole time and never knew it.”
“I’m clueless sometimes,” I admit.
Lisa studies me for such a painfully long moment that I have to glance away. She goes back to fussing with my hair, and I wonder what the hell I’m doing making plans for a marriage of convenience.
A marriage to Ian.
Something stirs deep in my belly, and suddenly this arrangement doesn’t sound so scary.