Page 198 of New Growth
Esther gasped so hard I thought she might faint. “Damn! El wentallout!”
Johanna flinched dramatically, throwing a hand over her eyes. “I can’t evenlookdirectly at it. My retinas ain’t built for this kind of luxury!”
“You are so damn silly.” I laughed. “And did y’all know he was gonna propose?”
Esther smirked like she’d been waiting for the question. “Of course we did. Did you think we were gonna let him propose with your fingers looking like a chewed-up mess? Or with that tired-ass twist-out?”
I gasped. “Wow.”
Still, I thought of the photos I posted after the engagement. My hand over his with the caption:Elliot Greene Times Two.
She saved my life.
It still felt unreal. I was smiling so hard it hurt.
“Well,” I said, softening. “Thank you. I appreciate it. All of it.”
Johanna grinned. “You’re welcome, boss. Honestly, I made you look so good, I’m surprised he even got off you to come in today.”
Esther slapped her hand over her mouth. “Girl, what iswrongwith you?”
“Seriously though, E. You looked beautiful.” London smiled.
“Right,” Chelsea added. “You’re gonna be such a gorgeous bride. Congrats again.”
I almost felt teary eyed. “Thank you.”
Esther leaned forward. “Okay, so—what happenedafterthe proposal?”
I blushed at the thought. “Nothing.”
“Lies,” Johanna shot back. “He blew that back out.”
He surely did, and he called me Mrs. Greene the entire time.
“Girl!” Esther slapped her hand over Johanna’s mouth again, scandalized.
“Alright, alright!” I said, waving my hand. “Back to work, please.”
I exhaled and looked at the Expo boards in front of me—runway mockups, vendor tables, model notes scribbled with question marks. Hope’s name still scratched off.
“I don’t know. The model lineups are all over the place. The timing is tight. And now that Hope’s out…”
Esther rolled her eyes and plopped down next to me. “Girl. You’re stressing over the wrong things.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You just got engaged. You should be somewhere laid up, picking out Pinterest ideas. Not worrying about model call sheets and bun tutorials.”
I scoffed. “Please. Me and El already survived one wedding this year. Not to mention my last engagement and his previous marriage. That was enough PTSD for a lifetime.”
“Fair.”
“And besides, a wedding’s months—maybe years—away. This Expo is next week.”
Esther studied me, then snapped her fingers. “Thenyoushould model the look.”
I blinked. “Me?”
