Page 159 of Dangerous Encore
"She's really sweet," Bella says. "And you can tell she's on her fourth cup ofcoffee."
I laugh. "Youcan."
"I'm jealous. Seething, actually. I want eight million more cups of tea." She shakes her take-out cup. It's empty. "I should toss this." She motions to my cup. "You want the rest of yourhoney?"
I laugh as I hand her the tea. "Thanks."
Bella goes in search of atrashcan.
Which leaves mealone.
Just me and a hundred fancydresses.
I need to pacemyself.
I need to treat this like editing—focus only on strong possibilities, viciously cut outanythingokay.
I move to the first rack on the left side of the room. It's packed with beautiful dresses. A smooth ivory A-line satin. A heavy taffeta gown. A snugmermaid.
Piper joins me as I move to the second rack. She hangs back, noddinguh-huhto all the gowns she deems flattering, and offering clothespins when I linger on something for more than tenseconds.
We move to thethirdrack.
Thefourth.
Thefifth.
Thelast.
Somehow, I pin half a dozendresses.
Piper alerts the salesgirl, a tall woman with long waves and a pinkdress.
"Please, get comfortable." The salesgirl points to the dressing room intheback.
It's a wide-open space with mirrors in the middle and stalls ontheends.
We take seats on a cream leather couch and watch as a happy bride-to-be models a mermaid gown for an olderwoman.
Her mother,probably.
The mom hugs herdaughter.
They both look to the mirror, their eyes dotted with happytears.
That guilt nags at my stomach. This is the right decision. I'm sureofthat.
But ithurts.
"You okay?" Bella nudges me. "Too busy thinking about your fiancénaked?"
I shrug,playingcoy.
Piper shakes her head. "Think about chiffon and lace now. You can think about skin and sweatlater."
"You're a shopping machine," Bellateases.
Piper beams, taking it as acompliment.
