Page 46 of The Fortune Games
I didn’t do that. I offered no explanation. First, because I don’t like justifying my actions to anyone. Second, because I was afraid Enzo would think it was just an excuse not to see him. Oh, sorry, I took a last-minute flight. But as soon as I’m back, we’ll meet up! When will that be? Well, I don’t know… I’ll keep you posted, okay?
Soon, I found a store where the saleswoman accepted my money. I pulled out my phone and Facetimed him.
Enzo picked up almost immediately. His hair was a mess, falling over his forehead like he’d just rolled out of bed. Meanwhile, I felt like I’d aged three lifetimes since waking up this morning.
“Did I wake you?” I asked.
“No, don’t worry about it. Are you shopping?” he asked, squinting at the screen.
I nodded and pivoted the camera to show him the store’s interior. “I need a dress for tonight.”
“I see you’re going out again.” A laugh accompanied hiswords. “Back to Club Montari?”
I rushed to a section filled with a range of pink hues. Fabrics in pale pink, fuchsia, and flamingo pink lined the racks. Some had beading or glitter, while others featured tulle sleeves, V-necklines, and different lengths.
“Not this time,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m off to… an event.”
“Looking for elegance, then?”
“That’s right.”
Enzo chuckled, the sound warm and slightly teasing. “I don’t know what that says about you that you didn’t have a single nice dress in your wardrobe.”
“Hey! I do have elegant clothes,” I shot back. “But remember, I’m on a mission.”
“True, forgive me.” He rubbed his hands together. “Spending money. I like that kind of mission, I won’t lie.”
I picked out three dresses that seemed to be my size and asked about the fitting room. The store owner directed me to a wide hallway surrounded by mirrors. I entered one of the cubicles, drew the curtain, and turned off my phone camera.
“Private. Sorry, Enzo.”
“Too bad, I was ready to enjoy the show.”
The Vera Rodríguez from a few years ago would have flushed crimson at that comment. But I just smiled and slipped into the first dress. It was a floor-length number with a thigh-high slit and delicate, pale tulle sleeves.
“What’s the event for, if you don’t mind me asking?” Enzo asked.
This one was too tight; the zipper wouldn’t go up all the way. My late grandmother would have patted me on the back and said, “Sweetheart, you could end world hunger withthose thighs.” My mother, laughing instead of giving me a pat on the back, would have said, “Darling, you have the body of a 50s model,” which I liked.
I was proud of my body, no matter what.
“I’m not quite sure,” I replied, my voice faltering as I struggled with the zipper. As unbelievable as it may seem, not everything that goes up comes back down. “I think it’s a fundraiser of some sort.”
“For what? Research? Private cause? Don’t tell me. Saidi has gone bankrupt since you were hired.”
“Hey! Saidi is doing great. Sorry, they picked me for the program instead of you, pretty face.”
“I didn’t even apply for the Chance program, Vera.”
Sure, he didn’t. Come on! Everyone in the course had tried their luck. It wasn’t my fault that Enzo couldn’t admit defeat.
“Oh, really? You didn’t?”
“I just didn’t want to jump into a job right away. I needed some time for myself, you know?”
I grunted. I had always wanted some time for myself, too, but I could never have afforded not working. I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand instead. I turned the camera around and stepped back, showing Enzo my second dress. It was a brighter shade than the first, knee-length, satin, with a band around my neck holding it up.
“What do you think of this one?”
