Page 44 of Speechless

“Right?” Stefan brings me out of my woeful reverie. “You look gorgeous. I’d kill for those big doe eyes of yours. You obviously didn’t need much but I wanted to punch up the sex appeal. You just went from ‘girl next door’ to smoke show.”

He blows on his finger guns to help articulate the point.

“Damn, girl—if Henry could see you now he’d have a coronary.” Again, with the Henry talk. Adamma refuses to believe we’re not hopelessly in love with each other. “Okay, let’s go get the car. I know exactly where I want to take you next.”

“This.Oh, definitely this one. Do you like ruching? Don’t answer that. Just try it. Okay, this color is stunning. Here, hold this up. Yep, gorgeous.”

We arrived at Rebecca Taylor a few minutes ago, Adamma swearing this is the perfect store for me, ‘not too edgy but just enough glamour.’ Now she’s grabbing pieces of clothing left and right and piling them into my arms. Finally, she’s done and we head to the dressing rooms.

“Try on the bubble dress first.”

“Umm, which one is that?”

“The ivory one, spaghetti straps and a bubble hem? It’s sort of stretchy.”

“Okay, it’s on.” I come outside of the room to show Adamma. All the clothes she picked out are nice, but they seem fancy to me. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve always worked from home or it’s just my personality but dressing up has never felt natural. Beach life definitely agrees with me.

“Hmm . . .” She looks me up and down, lips pinched together. “I love this color on you. Creamy white, not optic, it's perfect for your skin tone. But I hate the silhouette. You look like a little girl playing dress up.” She points back to the room I was in. “Next.”

I do feel like a little girl playing dress up. I’m trying to get dress number two off, but it’s all twisted, so I ask her to come in and help me.

“Luce, tell me what you have coming up so I can help you plan outfits. Right now we’re just flying blind. It’s fun, but I need some direction.”

“I don’t have anything coming up. You know my life. I have no need for new clothes. This is just for fun.”

“Come on. What about for a date? Don’t you and Henry have plans again soon?” We finally got the dress off and now I’m feeling very exposed, in more ways than one.

“I told you that was never a date. And yeah we’ve gone out to eat a few times but it’s usually just to grab something by the beach. We mostly just hang out at home—I mean at his house. I have no need for date attire.”

“Are you really gonna keep saying nothing’s going on with you two? I see the way he looks at you.” She raises her voice to be overly dramatic. “Like he wants to slay dragons and whisk you out of the tower and into his bed.” I give her the biggest eye roll I can manage. “Andevery time I mention his name you can’t stop smiling!”

“I always smile! And he looks at me perfectly normally. You just think that because of his dimple. It makes him look flirtatious, but it’s just his face.”

“His dimple, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed hehasa dimple. Sounds like you’re paying close attention though.” I roll my eyes at her. “Here, try this one on. This sandy color will look so good with your tan. And the pleats will make it lay really nicely.”

“Dami, there’s nothing going on, okay. Henry’s a flirt! And he is obviously—objectively—hot, so is it crazy if I smile at him or notice he has one dimple? The women he dates look like, or are actually, models. There is nothing going on with us.”

“I’m sorry, what women? I have never once in the last six years heard about or seen a single girl. And he isnota flirt. He barely even speaks to anyone who doesn’t live in that house.”

“There are girls, trust me. We ran into one on ourdate.”I hold up finger quotes to emphasize, once again, that it was not a date. “Seriously, maybe he’s just really private about who he dates. But leave it alone, nothing’s going to happen with us.” She holds up her hands letting me know she’ll drop it, for now.

I try on the dress and I honestly love it. The fabric is a shiny satin but has mini pleats throughout and a thin tie around the waist. It’s comfortable too, not baggy but not fitted, just cinched right above my hips. It fits perfectly. I hate that the first thought I have is if Henry will like it. Adamma might be more intuitive than either of us realize. “I’m getting it.”

Adamma cheers. Then she rips off the tag. “And you’re wearing it the rest of the day.”

We pick up pizzas to bring home to the boys. After a day of spoiling ourselves while they all work, it seems like the right thing to do. Considering we’re both wearing brand new dresses and sporting full makeup, carrying a bunch of cardboard pizza boxes inside is only a little ironic. I desperately want to change into sweats before we eat but Adamma shoots daggers at me when I mention it. I stumble into the house—literally stumble, because she forced me to wear the wedges she picked out earlier—and I run right into Henry.

“Whoa.” He grabs the pizza box from me with one of his hands and steadies me with the other. I see his gaze travel up my body as he takes me in, and when it lands on my face he gapes, just a tad.

“Hey Henry! I’ll take that.” Adamma grabs the pizza box from him to stack with the others on the kitchen island. “Isn’t shedazzling? And three inches taller!” She winks at me and looks back at Henry, and then she smacks him on the shoulder. “Dude, stop gawking at her.”

Henry clears his throat and I briefly meet his gaze. It’s easy to get lost in his sapphire eyes. I also notice he has quite a bit of stubble on his chin when he’s usually clean shaven to perfection. He must be extra busy with work.

“It’s a erm, beautiful dress.” He stands still for a moment before picking up his hand and patting me on the head several times, the last one lingering a bit too long. I raise my brows and he pulls away, hands down at his sides. “Sorry, don’t know why I did that. I should head back downstairs.”

“Aren’t you having pizza with us?” Adamma is loving this interaction and cannot keep one ounce of glee from showing on her face.

“Right, sure, yes. I’ll be back in a moment.” Henry shuffles downstairs and I just shake my head as Adamma gives me a grin as wicked as an evil queen. She puckers her lips dramatically, then molds her hands together into a heart and pumps it at me from her chest.

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