“Do you have a pic of it?” I asked.
“Absolutely. One sec.” She hummed along with the mall’s holiday music as she swiped through her phone gallery.
I narrowed my eyes at Zack and briefly faked another smile so he could see how nice I could be. Not for him. For Sparkles. Sugarplum. Whatever her stage name may be.
His nostrils flared, and he shifted to her side. What was he, her bodyguard? The worst I could do was sign her up for a credit card–and there wasn’t even a bonus when it was other mall employees.
Sparkles held up her phone. “Here it is.”
My eyes widened, and I reached for the battered screen. In the photo, she was wearing a couture corset and skirt costume. Prima ballerina meets ren-faire fairy vibes. That girl's playful preening, even in some random hallway, was totally portfolio-worthy.
“Where did you get that outfit?” I asked. “What brand is it?”
“My family made it for me. They’re very handy.” She beamed and nudged Zack’s arm. “This one’s better at shoveling than sewing–”
“Somebody needs to do it.” He tugged his earlobe.
“But he can also keep a good beat. Like me.” Sparkles jokingly bobbed along to the current song.
“No dancing,” he deadpanned. “Please. Not before coffee.”
“Okay.” She straightened and texted someone, much more low-key happy.
“Are you…family?” I asked.
Sparkles flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, yes. Sorry for the lack of introductions. Nicole, this my cousin, Zack.”
“Zack Turner, right?” I nodded at his sweatshirt. “Westbrook High.”
He furrowed his brow. “You went there?”
“Yep.” Of course he wouldn’t recognize me. There must have been a thousand students at Westbrook High. Why would he remember the girl texting under her desk?
Sparkles grinned. “Wow, what a co-in-key-dink. I wonder if we ever had any classes with you.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. Her bubbly attitude would’ve been memorable enough to grate on my sleep-deprived ass back then. Now, it was fine. Zack, on the other hand…
He clasped his cousin on the shoulder. “She would’ve remembered you,” he said.
Huh. We were kind of on the same wavelength about that. Weird, but whatever.
I led them through the aisles. “I have some ideas for this party princess ensemble. Ballet flats would be easy to dance in, but they’re not super supportive. Maybe wedge boots in a warm brown? Or Boms, which have fuzzy insoles on a few of their selections.”
“Fuzzy insoles?” She skipped after me.
I shot her a smile over my shoulder. “I thought you might be intrigued.”
“Remember, these have to be good for all seasons.” Zack brought up the caboose, studying me like he thought I was being smug or shady. Maybe I was. Why not be proud or lay it on thick when I was good at something?
Style was subjective. I had a decent idea of what Sparkles might need.
After trying on a few options, Sparkles admired her Boms-adorned feet in the tall mirror on the side of a support column. “I love these. They’re fun and practical enough for a princess.”
I nodded. The glory of fashion was true expression and confidence. “They come in a wedge, slip-on, and high-top. All different patterns.”
“Oh, let me see.” Sparkles pulled up the options on her phone. She texted and took pics throughout the process.
Zack slumped against the other side of the column. Hadn’t he ever shopped with someone else? Patience was key. Or he could be like Theo, who often split off to do his own thing. These cousins could easily reconvene at The Bern for coffee.
