Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“That’s good.”
The server comes, and we both order the taco special. Then Indie beams at me from across the table.
“We don’t need to talk about anything that will make you uncomfortable. Tonight is about finding perfect dresses and shoes, and preparing to dress up and feel pretty for the evening.”
“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable talking about it,” I say. “It’s more that I just don’t know how I feel. Or maybe that I feel so many different things that I can’t sort it out?”
She nods. “It has to be hard.”
“I don’t know what I’m even doing,” I admit. “Eric and I started dating in high school. We were teenagers, figuring out what we were supposed to do together. I’ve never dated a man as an adult. I just genuinely don’t know how to do it, or if I even should. Plus, this thing with Pax…it’s all pretend.”
“Maybe it’s less pretend than you think.”
My heart flutters as I consider the possibility. “If he actually wanted to date me, wouldn’t he say so?”
“It would be hard, having feelings for someone who lost her husband not long ago.”
I nod, because she’s right about that. “So far, he just seems like a very nice guy who appreciates me helping him out. I know how weird this will sound, but if I’m ever in a relationship with a man again, I want it to be with someone who’s…really into me, you know? I want to melt inside from the way he looks at me.”
Indie smiles knowingly. “I know exactly what you mean. Like he burns for you and only you. I feel that with Pike.”
“Pax doesn’t feel that for me. But going on these dates is most definitely helping me get my feet wet again.”
“Just your feet?” Indie snorts, and I can’t help laughing, too.
“So far, just my feet,” I say. “Pax wouldn’t risk his friendship with Pike by doing anything more than holding hands with me.”
My brother’s girlfriend gives me a self-assured grin. “For now.”
Three tacos and another margarita later, Indie directs me to a boutique, where the front window display advertises a gorgeous sleeveless wedding dress with tiny shimmering beads sewn into the bodice.
“This is going to be fancier than I thought,” I murmur. “It’s good you’re with me, or I’d definitely look ridiculous.”
Indie waves a hand. “It’s not me. It’s the sales associates here. They’re amazing. Just let them do their thing.”
When we walk in, the owner of the boutique, Laura, greets us, taking Indie by both hands and smiling warmly. “I couldn’t be happier with the way my husband’s office turned out. When can I book another spot with you to redesign our place in Tahoe?”
“I’m so glad you like it,” Indie says. “I’m booking four months out right now.”
Laura nods enthusiastically. “I’ll call your office first thing tomorrow.”
Indie is a talented interior designer who procures original pieces of art and furniture for her clients. She decorated Pike’s house and when Mom and I chose the perfect house for us, which Pike generously paid for, Indie made sure it was filled with beautiful furniture and art when we moved in.
“Now let’s get started on outfits for you two,” Laura says, eyeing me from head to toe.
“This is Kylie, my boyfriend’s sister,” Indie says.
“Kylie, it’s lovely to meet you. You look like a perfect size eight to me. Is that right?”
I laugh. “Might be more like a ten after all the tacos I just ate.”
Laura puts an arm around each of us and walks us over to a rack of hanging gowns. “Browse and grab whatever you like, and Paul and I will also get a fitting room going with some options for each of you.”
A well-dressed Black man with a bald head walks over to us and grins, clapping his hands together. “I’m Paul, ladies. We’re going to have a great time.” He leans close to me and says, “I just have to say I’m one-hundred-and-ten-percent gay, but I appreciate a great body when I see one, and you are going to be so much fun to dress. Your ass looks like it was sculpted by the gods. How many hours do you put in a week at the gym?”
The question makes me laugh harder than I have in a long time. “Zero. I’m a single mom and a nursing assistant. My ass is sculpted by lifting patients and walking about fifteen thousand steps a day.”
“It’s working for you, girl.” His grin reveals a perfect dimple in one cheek, and I immediately like him.
Within twenty minutes, I’m in a large fitting room, with a dozen gowns hanging from hooks on the walls and not a single mirror.
“How will I know what it looks like?” I ask no one in particular.
“You come out here,” Paul says. “I need to see every single dress on you.”