Should I be worried?
Priya says the dress has to make you lose your mind.
The dots pause.
Mission already accomplished.
I set the phone down, staring at the screen.
***
Saturday morning, Priya yanks four dresses off the rack before I've finished taking off my coat. Nadia's texting her stylist in the corner. Liv vetoes the first three options without looking up from her phone.
"Too structured," she says. "You'll look like you're going to a deposition."
Priya tosses the rejected dresses onto a chair and pulls another. "Try this."
I take it into the fitting room. The fabric is soft, the neckline clean. I pull it on, adjust the fit, and step back out.
Liv glances up. Nods once. "Better."
Nadia looks up from her phone. "Hair down. Soft waves. You want approachable but powerful."
My phone buzzes in my bag.
Tom
How's it going?
I type back one-handed while Priya circles me, tugging at the hemline.
They're making me try on everything in the store.
You'll look great.
Priya's exact words were "make you lose your mind."
Three dots.
Already there.
I stare at the screen.
"SAM." Priya's voice cuts through. "Are you texting him RIGHT NOW?"
I slip the phone back into my bag. "No."
"Liar," Nadia says without looking up.
I try on two more. The second one fits perfectly—clean lines, soft white fabric, nothing flashy. I step out of the fitting room and all three of them stop talking.
Priya grins. "That's the one."
***
Wednesday afternoon, I walk into the Architectural League gallery alone. The space is empty, quiet except for the hum of track lights overhead. Display walls line the perimeter, most still bare. Mine is in the corner, portfolio boards already mounted, everything is positioned exactly where I specified.
I stop in the center of the room, turning slowly. Light pours through the tall windows on the east wall, cutting sharp angles across the floor.
