Page 82 of The Promise

Nick is sitting almost as close to Sophie as Maureen had been to me. He nudges her shoulder and leans in. “You’re looking quite pretty too. Why don’t you stand up and give us a twirl?”

Sophie raises her eyes to his with an expression of displeasure.

Brent’s phone vibrates and he picks it up to read a text. “Hey, I need to head out. Anyone want to catch a ride back with me?”

Maureen looks at me. I avert my gaze.

“I suppose I should,” she sighs, tossing the blindfold back onto the rack and gathering her things.

Nick nods. “I’m exhausted. I’ll come too.” He leans in again and whispers something else in Sophie’s ear. I can’t hear it, but she returns her gaze to her script and shifts her body away from his. He leans in further to whisper again.

She’s motionless.

I cringe. The guy really can’t take a hint.

Once the three of them have finally left the room, Sophie drops her script on the cushion next to her and stands up. She begins to walk amongst the racks of costumes, touching the fabric just like Maureen did.

I try to keep my eyes down, but they move on their own accord, focusing on the exceptionally tight pair of jeans she’s wearing. They aren’t part of a costume. They’re her own choice of clothing today, and they give me a full view of the gentle curve of her hips, which aren’t as pronounced as Maureen’s, but their effect is just as strong.

I force myself to look back at my script.

Lines. Practice your lines.

“Wow, have you seen this hat selection?” Sophie says from behind a rack where I can’t see her.

“I have not,” I reply tightly. It’s awfully hard to pretend she isn’t here.

She comes back into view wearing a large-brimmed black hat with a long white ribbon that hangs down the side; something that Audrey Hepburn might have worn in the sixties. She strikes a pose and tosses a different hat toward me.

“What…are you doing?” I grin, trying to tear my eyes away from her long enough to examine the hat in my own hands.

“Having a bit of fun. You said I need to loosen up a bit.” She plays with the ribbon and nods toward me. “Put on your hat.”

I look down at my lap and examine the leather of the cowboy hat she’s chosen. “Well, this is better than the toilet paper one you made me.”

“Hey. I worked hard on that.” She mocks offense, but she’s smirking too.

I place the hat on my head and Sophie’s expression quickly turns into a look of wonder.

“What?” I blink at her. “Am I wearing it wrong?”

Her throat constricts. “That looks…wow…I mean, you look good.” She clears her throat and glances away. “I mean, it just…really suits you.”

I press my lips together, trying to restrict a chuckle. She’s cute when she’s squirming.

“Do you like my hat?” Her fingers trace the wide brim around her head and she blinks slowly, seductively at me while she waits for my response.

“It’s um, large.”

She pulls it off her head and sets it to the side. She pushes her fingers through her fiery hair, lifting it at the roots so that it tousles gently across her forehead. “It’s not really me though, is it?” She giggles.

I watch her silently as she crosses the room and sits down on the alterations pedestal directly in front of me. Our knees just barely touch as she reaches up and straightens my hat, not meeting my gaze. She touches a strand of my hair, pushing it back under the brim.

“Did you pick the most absurd hat for me on purpose?” I ask.

She grins. “No, there was one with a pinwheel on top.”

She’s studying me closely but doing everything to avoid eye contact. I cock my head, trying to meet her gaze “Well, I feel absurd.”

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