Page 102 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

“Why not?”

“It’s not exactly a winter coat.”

“So?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t have the money to be buying stuff I don’t need.”

He stares at me for a moment, then says, “Just try it on. You know, for fun.”

“Fun?”

He grins. “Yeah.”

The girl sidles up next to us. “Did you want to try on the jacket?” she asks, her eyes flicking between Dave and me.

“Uh—”

“Yes, she does,” he insists.

“Sure thing,” she says, then pulls the jacket off and takes it over to a three-way mirror at the back of the store.

Casting wildly around me, I spot a navy puffer jacket on a rack nearby and hold one out. “This one too. For practical reasons.”

“Anything else?” she asks.

“No, I think that’s it—”

“You should try this on too.”

I spin around to find Dave holding up some off-the-shoulder dress that I can definitely not afford. “What?” I whisper.

But before I can stop him, he’s passing it to the saleswoman and has turned to continue looking through the racks of clothes. My face boils and my stomach is in knots. What is he doing? When he holds up a metallic-silver halter top, I hold up my hand. “Dave, what are you—”

But he leans close to me, his breath tickling my ear. “Just indulge me, okay?”

Now my stomach is flip-flopping like the International House of Pancakes. “You want me to try on clothes for you?”

After he hands the saleswoman a few more things, he smiles slyly at me then sits in the big poofy chair in front of the mirror. “Absolutely.”

Again, I hesitate, my heel tapping against the tile floor.

“Come on, Disco Girl,” he encourages. “Fun, remember?”

I take a deep breath. Right. Clothes. I love trying on clothes. In fact, it’s one of my favorite things and the reason I took the class that led me to meeting Becks. Besides, it’s not like I have to buy everything. I’m just trying things on. I’ve done this hundreds of times before. Just never with an audience.

“Okay,” I whisper before heading into the change room and pulling the curtain across with a clink. Shit, there’s no mirror in here. Well, obviously, because there’s a massive mirrorout there. Why would you need one in here? I shake out my hands and grabthe black dress that Dave picked out, stroking the lace in wonder. How did he know what size to choose? Stepping into it, I’m surprised when it fits perfectly—like a second skin.

“Wow,” I whisper to myself, then look at the price tag and nearly choke. Well, I guess this is just supposed to be fun, right? Otherwise I might need to wear this dress while working the street corner outside to pay for it.

Pulling the curtain back, Dave’s head snaps up and his lips part. His eyes sweep over me from head to toe, then he leans back and lets out a low whistle.

“What do you think?” I ask, pulling the hem of the dress down a little.

He blinks a few times. “Wow,” he says, letting out a breath.

I smile. “That’s what I said.” I walk forward and turn to look at myself in the mirror. Wow is right. I don’t think anything has ever looked so good on me in my entire life. Why do expensive clothes have to be so . . . expensive?

“You look incredible.” He says it almost too quietly for me to hear.

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