Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Today, I strove to lighten his mood.
A normal person would have responded with words to the text he’d just sent, but where was the fun in that? I posed in front of the small mirror in my dressing room, trying to get as much of the purple monstrosity into the frame as possible, and snapped a pic. The lighting was nearly as awful as the dress, but it was good enough to give him the idea.
I sent him the picture without any context.
A new dress was pitched over the door. “Don’t freak out that it’s a size larger,” Brianna said. “She said they run small.”
The fabric was a pretty cranberry color, with a halter top and a skirt made of chiffon, and was much lighter than the one I had on. As I wiggled out of the purple dress, I smiled to myself while picturing Noah on the other side of the text exchange. Was he looking at me and wondering what the hell I was wearing?
I pulled on the new dress and zipped up the side zipper, and the saleswoman was right. It was a snug fit. God, why were women’s dress sizes so fucking arbitrary? When I evaluated myself in the mirror, it caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected to like the dress so much because it was pretty simple, but it was flattering.
A new notification popped up on my phone.
Noah: Hope you win first place!
Me: ?
I pushed open my dressing room door and strode out into the waiting area, clutching my phone in one hand. This time I was the first one dressed, and when Brianna’s gaze settled on me, her mouth fell open.
I couldn’t read her expression at all, and it stayed that way as Cait and Sasha came out. Cait was curvier than I was, and she’d probably need to go up another size, but the fit wasn’t that bad, and the cranberry color looked stunning with her skin tone.
Sasha looked great as well, but that wasn’t surprising. That bitch looked good in everything.
My phone vibrated.
Noah: I assume you are competing in a beauty pageant.
I snorted and typed out my response, telling him I was bridesmaid dress shopping and, unfortunately, the bride had decided the purple dress wasn’t making the final cut.
Brianna stood beside the saleswoman, and as she glanced between us bridesmaids, she frowned.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“No, I do.” But her unhappy expression remained.
Sasha couldn’t have looked more confused. “What’s the problem, then?”
“I like it too much. That color looks fabulous on all of you.” Brianna let out a sound of frustration. “Damn. Am I going to have to change my wedding colors again?”
Noah: You could still buy the dress and wear it when you clean. Spin off brand: Fancy Girl Cleans.
I chuckled and thumbed out my next message, which was a huge mistake because it drew everyone’s attention.
Me: I’m not spending $1200 on a cleaning dress.
“Who are you texting?” Sasha asked.
Shit. I dropped my hand so my phone was hidden in the layers of my skirt. “Just a friend.”
That was the wrong answer, because Sasha’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you’re not texting Zach.”
“Oh, fuck no.” I flashed an apologetic smile for my profanity to the saleswoman, who didn’t seem to care.
Sasha knew all my friends, and I was being secretive, which set her on alert—so I was going to have to give her something. She wasn’t the type to let things go. I’d specifically agreed not to tell my parents about Noah, and it had seemed safest to keep our whole relationship under wraps.
How would I explain it, anyway?
“It’s Noah,” I said simply.
Cait exchanged a look with the other two girls, checking to see if she was out of the loop, but Brianna looked just as lost.
“Who?” they asked in unison.
Sasha wrinkled her nose. “The guy whose house you’re cleaning?”
“Yeah.” I forced casualness into my voice. “He’s helping me with some business stuff too.”
An evil, knowing grin spread across her face. “Is he? And what’s he getting out of this arrangement?” She straightened like whatever thought had just hit her filled her with excitement. “Did you go with my idea of the French maid costume?”
“No,” I said quickly—too quickly.
“Oh, my God, you did!”
“No,” I was firmer this time, “I didn’t. I mean, I may have thought about it, but just for my videos.” I tacked it on for good measure. “Not for him.”
It wasn’t the least bit convincing, and Brianna chuckled. “Why am I not surprised you’re sleeping with the guy you work for?”
The saleswoman acted like she suddenly had somewhere else to be. She excused herself and disappeared into the rack of dresses.
I sighed loudly. “I am not sleeping with Noah.”
“But she wants to,” Sasha pointed out to the girls.
I didn’t say anything, because what was there to say? And when I didn’t deny it, they knew she was right.