I dashed off to grab various types in her size, then returned with the treasure trove. A balconette bra lifted her boobs as if she’d had surgical assistance. Although it emphasized her assets, she didn’t exactly smile at her reflection.
“How about this?” I asked, suggesting a cotton, wireless T-shirt bra instead.
Once she had it on, she wiggled her shoulders a bit in a mild stretch. Freedom of movement while strapping things down to some extent. That had to be a good sign.
“Let’s try it on with the dress,” she said.
I helped her into the garment, fighting the urge to turn away for modesty’s sake.
When she saw her reflection, she smoothed her waist and twirled the skirt, beaming.
No flesh squeezed too tight, no cups gaped at either side, and no furrow between my customer’s brows.
She laughed with relief. “This is the one. Thank you, Tori.”
I hugged the empty hanger and smiled.
My customer had found the support she needed.
And it wasn’t just the bra. It’d been me and my too-sweet self.
Tonight, that was all I’d need.
Chapter seven
Bar
Ihad to think of the bar like a shift rotation where I had a specific set of tasks.
My agenda: order a drink, chat with someone for at least ten minutes, and dance.
That wasn’t too bad. Especially if I stuck close to Kat.
After showing our IDs at the door, I latched onto my sister’s black cutout shirt and slunk into the bar as her curious little shadow. Bare yellowed lighting hung from the ceilings. In the back, billiards snapped and ice clinked against glass. I scanned the patrons for any sign of Angel.
“What does your guy look like?” Kat asked.
“He’s not mine,” I said.
She grinned too wide.
Oh, scrubs. I gave myself away again.
“He…has white hair,” I said. “But we’re just friends. Or something like it.”
“No judgment,” Kat said, playing with her cross. “Maturity can be hot. Although if he’s an older guy chasing young girls in bars, that might be a red flag.”
“He’s not an old man. He’s—” My train of thought snagged at the sight of Angel staring at me from the far side of the bar, his lips slightly parted.
Gorgeous.
No. Ridiculous.
Why didn’t he ever button his shirt all the way? And who was the girl touching his arm?
“He’s already talking to someone,” I said flatly.
“Where?” Kat perked up.
