“Thank you.” That meant a lot more than maybe he could understand.
With a nod, he began to turn away then paused to glance at me. “That dress is stunning by the way. I opened a charge account here… I’d be happy to pay for anything you want, but I would really like to treat you to the dress of your choice.”
A lump formed in my throat. The man was trying so damn hard with me. It was difficult to reconcile that with the distant, hostility-ridden relationship he had with Archie.
It also made me feel guilty as hell for this disloyalty to Archie.
When I didn’t respond, he gave me another nod then walked away.
Rachel exhaled slowly once they were gone. “Well,” she said. “That was… something.”
I laughed, shaky but real. “Yeah.” I’d been trembling and they weren’t going away as I wrapped my arms around myself in a hug. Rachel rose and crossed over to me, she gave my arm a rub.
“Do you want to try on any more?” Sympathy and support twined in her voice and I tilted my head as we both turned to look at me in the mirror.
Did I want to try on more? Not really. Should I?
I blew out a breath. “We have four more in there. I really like this one,” I admitted. “But I want to be sure.”
I also didn’t want to pick it just because Eddie said he liked it. Petty? Maybe. But I wanted this decision to feel likemine.
“Well, then take this gorgeous butt in there and shimmy out of that dress and let’s see what the others look like.” The droll comment chased away some of my doom and gloom.
Wait, halfway to the dressing room, I pivoted to look at her. “Aren’t you going to try on dresses?” Weren’t we supposed to be shopping for both of us?
Rachel clicked a photo of me with her phone, and said, “Do that again.”
“Do what again?”
“Come back here, walk back to the dressing room, and pivot sharply like you did… again.”
My mouth fell open but Rachel locked gazes with me and tapped her foot.
Throwing up my hands, I let out a laugh and did as I was told. She snapped three more photos of me based on the shutter sound her phone released, including one that had to be of my ass, but whatever.
“Thank you,” Rachel said when I finished. “Now, let’s get this runway show on the road. Go try on the others.”
“What about your dress?” I reminded her.
She just grinned. “I have mine.”
“You do?” I straightened. “What does it?—”
“You’ll see at Homecoming. Now, go, shoo. Get changed.”
With a sigh, I retreated to the dressing room. “You do know you’re not the boss of me.”
“Well, then you’re giving a really good performance of a good girl,” she teased and I snorted.
“Right, brat mode activating.” At my deadpan remark, Rachel actually cracked up.
Grinning, I glanced at myself and the dress in the mirror then and shook my head. “Try on the others,” I muttered to myself. “Then we’ll decide.”
In the end, I bought the dress.
Not to make a statement. Not to rebel.
Just because I wanted it.
