Page 65 of Go Find Less

“These are the ones we decided to move forward with.” She eyes the folder, and then looks up at me, her shoulders rolling back. “We need to get this season wrapped and to production in the next few weeks, Piper.” I nod, taking the papers from her and pressing them to my chest, which feels warm and protected under the thick, cable-knit purple sweater I’d thrown on this morning to beat one of the last cool early spring mornings. I rise, doing my best not to teeter as I look at her.

“I’ll let you know if I have any questions?” I ask. Brianna nods, once, slowly, like she’s not sure who’s standing in front of her. And frankly, I’m not sure, either, as I turn on my heels and walk out of her office, tossing the paperwork down on my desk. I pull my purse out, take a deep, steadying breath, and look at a confused Vic for just a moment before I mutter “I’m heading to a meeting,” and stomp out of the office like there’s a fire behind my ass.

“Ifyourgoalisto give the man an aneurysm, I think this’ll do it,” Carla says cheekily, staring down at the outfit laid across my bed.

I reach out, feeling the sheer fabric of the underbust corset I’ve picked. Black, with pink peonies stitched into the mesh. It’s not sturdy or boned with steel - it’s meant to be an accessory, not an undergarment. But that’s what I’m going for, when paired with the black dress next to it, to go underneath.

To the side is a black lace set I designed with AllHearts several seasons ago. The bra clasps in the front, with a delicate, black bow, and has crossing strips of lace above the cups. The panties, simple and lacy, have a matching garter belt with black bows. I have a pair of mauve thigh-highs, which match the florals on the corset, rolled up next to my black Mary Jane heels.

“He said retro, right?” Carla asks, and I nod. “Well, this is definitely retro.” She lifts the corset, holding it in the air. “You kept saying you were going to make me one of these.” I roll my eyes.

“Sure, let me add it to the list after the other fifteen things you…"

My watch vibrates against my wrist.

FITZ WESTFALL

I’m leaving the house shortly, are you almost ready?

My heart thumps in my chest as I respond.

PIPER DELMONICO

Yep, let me know when you’re here and I’ll meet you outside.

Did I want him to be a gentleman and come to my door? Yes. Did I want to let Carla give him a lecture on treating me like a lady, which she’d no-doubt sworn to do under threat from Alex? No.

I turn to my vanity, giving myself a once-over. My black robe tied over my chest, I scrunch at my curls, freshly washed and styled, moving pieces one way and another across the top of my head. I swipe under my eyes - lined with my signature cat-eye. I left my lips plain, with the dramatic eye. Pearl studs match my pearl necklace, layered with a few other gold chains.

Silently, I run my hands down my sides. It’s been a long time since I got this dressed up for a date. It’s been a long time since I felt this way about a date, truth be told. And while I’m feeling myself in this sexy makeup look, in the outfit I’m about to put on, there’s this little nagging voice in the back of my head telling me one word. No.

No. Wear something less outlandish. No. You shouldn’t accentuate your curves. No. He’s only going out with you for one thing.

I shake the thoughts from my head. Fitz asked me out. Me. It wasn’t an accident, or a cruel joke, he was getting to know me and wanted to go out on a proper date.

And that fact has me terrified.

Because despite everything, despite that little voice in the back of my head that’s been there since I was old enough to be body-conscious about my curves next to the tall, toned sister I grew up with, I’m proud. Proud of what this body has been through with me. Proud that I’m still standing. And proud that I’m willing to even put my heart on the line like I am now.

And am I looking forward to seeing Fitz out of his clothes as much as I’m looking forward to seeing his reaction to this particular lingerie set? Absolutely.

I stare down at my rings momentarily, as Carla watches. Most of them are decorative - but one, on my right ring finger, is important. My wedding ring. My grandmother’s before me. The one Mickey proposed with. The one I’ve worn every day since then, for better or for worse, even without him here. Partially because it meant a lot to me, as something of my grandmother’s. But part of me, however small, is considering taking it off for the night, thinking back to the day I made promises over it in a hospital chapel.

Five Years Ago

“Youlookbeautiful,”Pennycooed, brushing my hair over my shoulder to expose the skinny collarbone, framed by a pale floral neckline. I smiled at her in the mirror - a sad tilt that doesn’t meet my eyes.

“You about ready?” My mother appeared in the doorway behind us, and immediately, her eyes welled with tears. I stared at the three of us in the mirror - the same dark eyes, hair - the only resemblance to my father is my rounded jawline and the natural curl pattern to my hair. “Oh, passerotto mio,” she mumbled.My little sparrow. She moved forward quickly, crushing me in a tight hug.

“Mama, you’re going to make me cry,” I choked out, and she pulled back quickly, blotting at her own eyes.

“I know this isn’t the way you wanted to do it, but you do look beautiful,” Penny repeated, her hand on my arm.

My wedding day. It’s true, it wasn’t the way I’d wanted to do it. In the years Mickey and I had been together, I’d imagined our wedding a million ways. A big, beautiful chapel, filled with our closest friends and family. My parents’ backyard, string lights above us. Never this - never getting ready in his hospital room to meet him and Vic down in the hospital chapel.

But it was perfect nonetheless.

The clock ticked ever so loudly in the back of my mind each day, and after his last scan’s we’d made the decision - no matter what, we were tying the knot. He wanted to have his wife by his side, and I knew that I wanted to be just that, despite our troubles.

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