Page 40 of Howl for Me
“You can’t work with him.” I spit out like some love-struck teenager and instantly regret it when she smiles big.
“I knew it! You do like him! Hey, as long as he doesn’t hurt you, then I won’t hurt him. Simple.” I can’t help but smile. I'm grateful for her friendship and that she would feel the need to protect me.
“I’ve got that event tomorrow,” I say, changing the subject. “I need something to wear. I was going to go shopping today anyway… want to come?”
Lori practically jumps off the couch. “Do I want to come? Cassidy, yes. Let’s find you something that’ll make even Johnny fuckin Howler crawl at your feet.”
An hour later, we’re tucked inside a boutique that smells faintly of incense and lemon oil. Everything is saturated in color, rust orange, deep plum, burnt gold. It’s beautiful… and overwhelming.
“I’m dying out here,” Lori calls from outside the fitting room. “Come out already!”
“I’m thinking,” I mutter, staring at myself in the mirror.
The dress is... short. Rust red with long sleeves and a wrap tie at the waist. The neckline dips a little lower than I’m used to, and the hem flirts with the top of my thighs. I shift my weight. My legs have always been thick. Thicker than the girls I grew up around. Thicker than most of the women I see working at the studio. There’s a part of me that has always been insecure about them. I open the curtain anyway.
Lori’s mouth falls open. “Oh, my god.”
My hands go to the sides of the dress instinctively, trying to smooth it down.
She shakes her head like I’ve offended her. “Cassidy. You look stunning. That body is doing everything right in that dress.”
I laugh under my breath. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
She gives me a look. “Too much for what? A funeral? Maybe. But for a studio party in L.A. Babe, you’re gonna make hearts stop.”
I glance at myself in the mirror again. The dress does fit nicely. The color makes my skin look warmer. It hugs my waist in a way that almost makes me forget the things I don’t like about myself. Almost.
“You really think it’s okay?” I ask, quieter.
Lori softens. “Cass. It’s more than okay. You look beautiful. And that man you’re definitely not falling for?” She smirks. “He’s gonna fall off the planet when he sees you in this.”
I exhale a laugh. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure it’s not,” she says, not believing me for a second. “Now hurry up and buy it so we can find you shoes before my legs give out. I’m starving!”
As we make our way to the counter, a tall man with soft curls and a pressed cream shirt tucked into high-waisted trousers looks up from a small stack of folded scarves. There’s a glint in his eye when he sees the dress draped over my arm.
He lets out a low whistle, setting the scarves aside. “Well, now. Someone’s about to cause trouble.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”
“That red? On you? Girl, those men are going to be breaking their necks.” He says as he rings me up.
“Really, I wasn’t sure about the color.” I feel my cheeks warm.
“Well, be sure because your complexion and this color…stunning.. ya hear me?” He tilts his head, folding the dress gently as he bags it.
“Thanks.” His compliments catch me off guard, but his energy is so contagious I smile anyway.
“I heard you ladies talking about grabbing lunch. I tried that diner about a block up,“ he pauses, eyes wide, “So good. I hurt myself on their club sandwich the other day. Y’all should check it.”
Lori leans against the counter. “What’s it called? I’m starving.”
“Bellamy’s. Now it’s nothing fancy, just some worn booths and plastic menus, but the food is so good. They even have a little jukebox. You ladies enjoy.” He hands me the bag and walks back to the scarves.
Bellamy’s is exactly what he promised, booths that have seen better days and the low hum of music from the jukebox. We’rehalfway into our club sandwiches and iced tea when I notice two men approaching our table.
Lori sees them first. She grins, standing. “There you are! Join us.”
