Yes, he’s a total stranger. No, I don’t know anything about this man other than he’s an investment banker with a sexy website and a mean right hook.
It could be the stupidest thing I ever do. It could be the biggest regret of my life, if I do it.
A mental image of my daughter flashes across my lids—emaciated because I can’t afford all the vegan cheese, disappointed because she can’t go to the concert with her friends, heartbroken because there’s not a chance in hell I can afford to fly her home to visit her boyfriend, ever.
Yes, it could be the biggest regret of my life if I do it.
It could be an even bigger regret if I don’t.
Breathing out slowly, I lift my lids to his expectant and surprisingly hopeful face.
My heart pounds.
Thump, thump, thump.
“I’ll do it.”
Erin
“Well, this is the most exciting thing to happen to me since Live Aid.”
I glance at Mallorie who is skillfully flicking through a rack of dresses in the women’s designer section of Saks Fifth Avenue.
“You were six years old when Live Aid happened.”
She squints, taking in the detail of a particularly well-embellished neckline, then skims along. “Exactly.”
“And this isn’t happening to you,” I add, half-wishing it was.
“It’s happening to me by proxy, darling. You need to try this one. It’s perfect.
She pulls out a beautiful cocktail dress and I have to agree, the color is rich and decadent and the cut would flatter even a cucumber.
No sooner do I mutter something that sounds like agreement, than a sales assistant is taking the garment from herhands to hang with the others that I—actually,Mallorie—has selected.
I armed myself with my stylist friend because, as much as I like to shop for clothes, I am a little out of touch with what’s considered to be non-casualwear, and Mallorieisa professional.
“I think you have enough for now.” Mallorie takes my arm. “Let’s see how everything fits.”
We reach the dressing room and I reluctantly step out of my comfortable Lululemon leggings and tee, then pull on the first dress. It’s a blue satin midi dress with a deep V-neck and cape shoulders. It ripples seductively over my hips, the gathered fabric pinching in my waist.
A little gasp escapes me at how effortless it feels. I’d always expected clothes that aren’t made for stretching to be scratchy, stuffy and uncomfortable, but this is the exact opposite. It feels like I’m wearingair.
I pull back the curtain and step into the small area where Mallorie is waiting to give her verdict.
Her jaw drops.
“Oh my God, Erin! Look at the legs you’ve been hiding. Jeez, I could lick them.”
“Please don’t.”
“Seriously, though. You look sensational.”
I turn to face the mirror. “It looked so simple on the hanger,” I marvel.
“It looks anything but simple on you. That’s going in the bag.” She snaps her fingers. “Next!”
I slip out of the satin dress and reach for the one dress that drew my eye. Mallorie’s eyebrows shot up when I showed it to her but I like it. It’s fun and frivolous and could be just what I need.
