Do it for me, honey, Ezra’s voice sings in my head.
That’s enough to bolster my courage. So I take a deep breath and peel off my clothes.
When the stretchy material slides over my butt and hips with surprising ease, I gasp. And when I slip my arms through the holes and the fabric hugs my tits like a fitted sheet, I yelp.
“You okay in there?” Claire asks. “Let me see.”
Inspecting myself in the mirror, I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
Call the fire department; I’m fuckinghot.
When I drag the curtain open, I find Claire standing so close I nearly knock her over.
“Holy shit.” Her squeal causes every person in the dressing room to stick their head out to gawk. “I’m sending a picture to Ezra,” she says, retrieving her phone from her pocket.
“Wait. I want him to see it in person.”
Her eyes dance as she holds the device up to her face to unlock it. “Great idea. I’ll send it to Joey instead.”
I give her my bestMamma Miaposes for a solid five minutes before trying on a few more casual yet sexy outfits. After I’ve dropped nearly half my paycheck on a new wardrobe (that I’mpraying I’ll make up for in tips this weekend), we head to a café nearby.
“Thanks for shopping with me,” I say as we take a seat side by side at a high-top by the window.
“Of course.” She drizzles dressing from a packet onto her salad. “I wish I could pop in and see you at the club, but I’m swamped with work.”
“Do you ever get a break? What’s your dating life like these days?”
With a huff, she stabs at a tomato. “Nonexistent.”
“So it’s not likeGrey’s Anatomy? No one is hooking up in the call room?”
Laughing, she shakes her head. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“I have a question. It’s been on my mind for some time, but I’ve been too afraid to ask.”
“Okay.” She swivels in her seat to face me. “You’re making me nervous, but go for it.”
“Have you and Ezra ever?—”
She lets out an unladylike snort and slaps a hand over her nose and mouth. “Absolutely not. He’s much too old for me.”
“Hey, we’re the same age.” I jab her arm playfully.
“So you like older men. I’m not judging.” She grins. “I was a kid when I met Ezra and he was already aman, you know?”
I conjure an image of an eighteen-year-old Ezra. Yeah, he was probably one of those boys to hit puberty at ten.
“He’s my brother’s best friend—and not in the cool, sexy romance books way. He was always like another big brother. Still is.”
The anxiety knotting my stomach eases. “That’s fair. Even if you had a history with him, I would have been okay with it.” It wouldn’t have been nearly as awkward as the weird love triangle we found ourselves in with Sam. Still, I’m relieved they’ve never had a romantic connection.
Claire has barely finished her salad when the alarm on her Apple Watch goes off. She attends an art class any time she can, so we share an Uber back to Washington Heights.
After she’s stepped out onto the sidewalk, she pokes her head back in and gives me a soft smile. “I haven’t seen you and Ezra together yet, but I’ve known him for over half my life and have never seen him this happy. Something tells me you have a lot to do with that.”
Between the time I get dressed and the time I step into FrenchSHEs, I collect enough boob sweat to fill a small fish tank, but it’s like I never left. The entire crew smothers me with hugs, including two new performers I’ve never met. Autopilot kicks in, and I quickly fall into the groove of things, blessedly and effortlessly feeling like myself again.
A little before midnight, Stevie’s voice comes through my earpiece. “Millie. You’re neglecting a customer.”
