Page 30 of Playing the Player

“It’s cute.” She says with a shrug before turning back to the rack of dresses she’s rifling through.

I narrow my eyes. “You don’t like it.”

She shoots me a guilty smile, but the act lasts all of two seconds. “I hate it.” She admits, an apology written all over her face. “I’m sorry, I just really don’t like that color.”

“I know! It’s so ugly.” I mock cry, “But I’m getting desperate.”

Alex and Rose’s engagement party is in four days and I have found nothing to wear. Sure I have lots of dresses in my wardrobe that would be perfectly acceptable to wear, but what woman wants to wear the same dress twice?

“Why are you even going?” Liv asks as she pulls a horrid looking bright green dress out of the rack, makes a face and then slots it back in.

“Because they’re my friends.”

“Are they though?” I gape at her in mock offence, even if the thought hadn’t crossed my mind a thousand times since I RSVP’d. “Oh, don’t give me that look.” I turn away from her instead, continuing my hunt for a dress. “Seriously though, when was the last time you heard from either of them? Did they message you after you and Max broke up? You always said you didn’t like Alex anyway and only tolerated him because he was Max’s friend and-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” I sigh, giving up on my search for a dress in this store. I’m embarrassed to admit the real reason I’m going to this party, not more embarrassed than I was asking Conor to be my fake boyfriend, but close enough. “I’m not going for them. I’m going for Max.”

The dress Olivia is pulling out of the next rack freezes mid-air and shoots me a glare, taking my meaning the wrong way. “Not for him, but…” I pause, trying to find the right words, “If I don’t go to this party, it’ll be like I’m saying I’m still not over him, not wanting to see him with someone else.” I hang my head, ashamed at my admission.

“Is that true?” Her eyes soften but they shine with pity. I hate that look.

“Yes.” Max hurt me more than anyone ever has before. He humiliated me, made me feel worthless, and still, I find myself thinking about him, wondering what he’s doing, if he’s still thinking about me. Pathetic, I know. “We were together our whole lives, Liv. He wasn’t just someone I was in love with. He was my friend first. Those feelings don’t just disappear.” Not for me anyway.

We leave that store and cross the street to another boutique. One that’s way outside my price range so I don’t even know why we’re in here.

“What about Conor?” Liv asks as we wander down the aisles.

“What about him?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him.”

“And?”

“And I thought he might have taken your mind off of Max.” Olivia grimaces as she pulls out an orange dress with giant pearls on the top.

“He does take my mind off Max when we’re together, but as soon as I’m alone, all those thoughts come rushing back.” I don’t even bother looking through any of the dresses. What’s the point?

“Oh, look at this one!” Liv squeals, racing to the end of the aisle where a mannequin stands tall, wearing the most beautiful, pale yellow dress I have ever seen. Thin spaghetti straps hold up the dress. It’s tight at the top, with a graceful sweetheart neckline dipped just enough for the cleavage to be sexy but not too over the top. It cinches at the waist, giving way to a flowing skirt, that stops mid-thigh at the front, and falls lower at the back.

It’s stunning and, yep, way out of my price range. “Who pays two hundred dollars for a dress? Jesus.” I shake my head, turning away and walking back down the aisle we came from.

Olivia is quick on my heel, which isn’t hard considering her legs are twice the length of mine. Maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but it’s not far off. “Just try it on.”

“There’s no point, Liv.”

“Yes there is.” She states, attempting to drag me back to the dress. “Girl, your whole face lit up when you saw it. You need to try it on.”

My next words come out as a whisper. “I can’t afford it.” I’m struggling to even afford the essentials right now, I can’t spend my savings on a dress that I’ll only wear once.

“I’ll buy it.”

I gape at her, my jaw almost hitting the floor. “You can’t do that.”

“Yes, I can.” She says, pulling me back to the dress. “Think of it as a birthday gift.”

“My birthday isn’t for another few months.”

“Fine, an early birthday gift.” Olivia sifts through the collection of dresses hanging up beside the mannequin, presumably looking for my size.