Because I’m not sure if that was bonding.
Or dominance.
Or something else entirely.
We keep going.
Sage doesn’t ask so much as decide.
“This,” she says, tugging a denim miniskirt off the rack and holding it up against my hips. “Perfect for summer.” She grins. “Trust me.”
Then come the shoes—open-toed wedge sandals, tan leather, just high enough to make my legs look longer without screamingtrying too hard.
“You’ll get these stuck between the planks at least once,” she says. “That’s how you know they’re good.”
I laugh despite myself.
At the makeup counter, she doesn’t hesitate.
“MAC,” she says firmly, like it’s a rule. “Foundation, concealer, blush. You don’t need much—just the right tones.”
She stands close, testing shades on the inside of my wrist, explaining undertones like it’s second nature. She talks while she works, casual and confident, like she’s done this a hundred times for girlfriends.
“Okay,” she says finally, stepping back. “Look.”
I barely recognize myself.
Not in a bad way.
My skin looks even. My eyes brighter. My lips fuller without being overdone.
I look… hot.
I don’t say it out loud, but she sees it on my face and smiles like she won something.
“See?” she says. “Sexy. Not slutty.”
I shake my head, half-laughing. “Alright. You win.”
At the register, I swipe my card, then stop and look at her. “I can’t buy anymore. My card might decline if I do.” I bite my lip. “Truthfully… I’ve been spending a lot since I got this job. Ski passes, cover charges, drinks, late-night food. I haven’t saved anything.”
She nods immediately. No judgment.
“Oh, I know,” she says softly. “It’s a lot, isn’t it? Maintaining yourself. Keeping up.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “That’s why I had to leave New York. It was bleeding me dry. Boston’s not much better, but—” She stops walking, turns to me fully. “Beth, we’re talking a few hundred dollars. It’ll be fine.”
She links her arm through mine again. “Happy hour. Half-price apps. We’ll share. It’ll be my treat.”
“But we just ate out at lunch.”
There’s something in her eyes—open, earnest, friendly—that makes me feel ridiculous for being suspicious earlier. And I suddenly feel badly for judging her and being jealous last weekend. She was drunk. We were all drinking. We all do stupid shit when we drink. Right?
“Okay,” I say. “Okay.”
And the thing is… I really am enjoying myself.
We sit outside, plates in the middle, drinks sweating in the heat. Sage tells stories, animated, funny, self-deprecating. She listens when I talk. Really listens. Laughs at the right moments. Makes me feel interesting.
