Page 2 of The Sweetest Ingredient

My dog hopped off the couch and wandered over to the window.

So what if my life had become a monotonous cycle of job applications and rejections? Maybe taking a break would improve my mood, even if it meant braving the outside world again.

Mochi returned with a toy in her mouth and dropped it by my feet. She barked once.

I leaned over to pet my dog’s head. “I suppose I can’t hide in this apartment forever.”

I sighed, already dreading the effort fashion would require. But hey, yoga pants were still real pants, right? I could make those work. And would it really be so bad to casually date? Other than the obligatory small talk and having to feign interest in his hobbies, what was there to lose?

“Okay. Fine.”

“Yes!” Chantel nodded. “And it’s not always about romance. Who knows who this guy might be connected to. He could have ties in the design industry or even know someone looking to hire.”

“You’re right. I’ve been stuck in a rut, and even if the date is a disaster, an afternoon out will lift my spirits.”

“You know I love you, right?” Chantel grinned. “As your best friend, I’m here to cheer you on, help you regroup, and even find you a nice guy to date.”

My sister’s door swung open, and Bree rushed into our cramped living room, a bright smile on her face. “Did I hear the word date?”

I marveled at how much energy was packed into that petite frame of hers. My thirteen-year-old sister bounced around in a bright yellow tee, jeans, and those sparkly pink sneakers she loved so much. We shared the same green eye color, but her freckled nose and straight brunette locks, twisted into a ponytail, were all her own.

“Yep, your sister’s getting out for a few hours,” Chantel said.

Bree narrowed her eyes, studying me as if trying to find any trace of a romantic bone in my body. “That’s a shocker. I thought she was turning into a couch cushion.”

“Ha, ha. Hilarious.”

“You need to change your clothes.” Bree plopped onto the overstuffed armchair.

I scrutinized my yoga pants and graphic tee. “Why? This is sort of stylish.”

“You have a ketchup stain on your boob,” Bree said flatly.

I glanced downward and frowned at a splotch of red on my chest.

“Is that the latest in foodie fashion? It adds character, but maybe too bold for a first impression.” Chantel poked me in the side with her finger. “Now, go get dressed.”

We headed to my bedroom. My best friend took a seat on my bed, a comfy mess of thick blankets and plush velvet pillows, while Bree lounged in the doorway.

Standing in front of my closet, I gazed at my bedroom. The light-green painted walls had funky art pieces I’d picked up from local flea markets. Above my dresser hung a vanity mirror I’d repurposed, and near the bed was a bookshelf filled with my favorite novels, including all of Jane Austen’s works.

Chantel crossed her curvaceous brown legs. “Try looking a little more chic.”

I rummaged through the clothes hanging in my closet. As we chatted about the date with my ‘future husband’—Chantel’s words, not mine—I found a vintage black dress and held it up.

“What about this?”

Chantel gave me an approving nod. “Perfect.”

Bree entered the room and stood beside Chantel, who reclined on my bed.

Peeling off my clothes, I slipped into the short dress that hugged my slender frame. Scrutinizing myself in the full-length mirror attached to the closet door, I admired how the dress made my legs appear longer and my waist smaller. My green eyes were outlined by thick lashes and my chestnut hair curled around my oval face.

I didn’t look half-bad. While I put on makeup in the mirror over the dresser, the reflection caught the earnest gazes of Chantel and Bree behind me.

Chantel leaned forward. “Here’s my best dating tip. Wear a flirty smile, not a forced one.”

Bree moved to my dresser, examining the perfume bottles. “And eye contact is key. You don’t want to come across as a distracted squirrel.”

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