Page 7 of Under the Ink

JUNE 4

Naomi Baxter forced the corners of her lips up in what she hoped looked like a genuine smile, but she knew Ginny would figure out she was faking it. Not that it mattered. It was hard to look happy in that deep purple sleeveless satin dress that seemed to hug every curve.

She and Ginny had been friends forever—best friends—so what the hell was that woman thinking?

“You look absolutely gorgeous, Nam!” Ginny gushed, squeezing her shoulders against her neck with a grin like she always did when she was almost too excited for words. As she crossed the room, though, her smile dissipated a bit. “But you hate it.”

“I don’thateit.”

Ginny rushed up close, causing the seamstress to dodge so she could hug her friend. “The purple makes you look so pretty.”

Pretty?That wasn’t an adjective Naomi was used to being called—and, frankly, the only person she would tolerate it from was the woman who’d just said it. In response, she just frowned, rolling her eyes at Ginny, wishing this moment would end already.

“You know how much I hate your black hair—but I like it today. It works with the purple.”

“It’s been black for three years.”

“And I’llneverget used to it. It’s just so—”

“Harsh.Yeah, that’s the point. And I know you hate how short it is, too, so let’s not even go there.”

Naomi could tell Ginny was going to try to rope the seamstress in on the conversation, but when Naomi raised her eyebrows, her best friend got the message.

Her voice weak, Ginny said, “At least your hair makes the green of your eyes really stand out.”

When Naomi smiled, it was genuine, even though her words were laced with sarcasm. “Yeah, that’s why I did it. To make my eyes pop.” At least Ginny hadn’t mentioned how dark and heavy Naomi liked to wear her eyeliner and eye shadow—because the makeup probably made her eyes stand out more than the hair or even the dress.

Ginny gave up, rolling her eyes, while the seamstress asked, “How does that feel?”

“Uncomfortable.”

Taking two pins out of the corner of her mouth, she asked, “Where?”

“Everywhere.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Ginny said. “She’s—”

“I can probably loosen—”

“No, Ginny’s right,” Naomi admitted, letting out a long breath. “There is nothing you could do with this dress to make it more comfortable.”

“Except give it longer sleeves and add pants.” Ginny raised an eyebrow, a tiny smile on her face.

“Exactly.”

The seamstress’s eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead onto the ceiling. “Wait a second. This is the—”

“I know. I know. I’m not actually going to have you do any of that.”

“I’m sorry,” Naomi said. “I’m not trying to be a pain in the ass. Ginny is the only person I’d ever wear this dress for—oranydress, for that matter—and that’s not your fault. It feels fine. It’s not too tight or too loose or anything like that.”

Although she didn’t utter a word, the way the seamstress’s face relaxed said it all. Nodding, she turned and started putting her pins and measuring tape in the bag she’d brought.

“Look, Nam,” Ginny said, holding out her hands to her friend until Naomi rested her fingers in her friend’s palms. “First…thank you for agreeing to be my maid of honor. Sure, I could have chosen one of my cousins, but I needyouby my side, okay?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“And I know the dress isn’t exactly your cup of tea. But as soon as the ceremony’s over, you can change clothes.”

---