“It’s just lunch.”
“With his parents.”
“Sabrina.”
“Fine. Show me your closet.”
I switched to video and aimed the camera toward the disaster zone behind me.
“Why do you own so much black?” she asked.
“I like black.”
“You look like you’re permanently attending a stylish funeral.”
“Can you focus?”
She leaned closer to her screen. “Okay. Grab the navy midi dress, the fitted one.”
I pulled it out.
“Good. Now also take the cream blouse and your black tailored trousers.”
“That’s very corporate.”
“Don't you want to look respectable?”
“Of course, but I don’t want to look like I’m applying for a position in the family.”
She laughed. “Try the dress first.”
I changed quickly and came back into frame.
She blinked. “Okay. That’s nice.”
“Nice?”
“You look grown. Elegant. Like you make responsible decisions.”
If only she knew.
“Too much?” I asked.
“No. It’s perfect for meeting parents.”
I tried the blouse and trousers next.
She tilted her head. “That’s powerful. Maybe too powerful.”
“So the dress?”
“The dress,” she confirmed. “Hair down. Soft waves. Nude heels.”
“I was going to put my hair up.”
“No. Down. You want to look approachable.”
I studied myself in the mirror again. The dress hugged my waist without being too tight. It was simple but also elegant. It was the perfect option.
