Page 5 of My Surprising Valentine

I stared at the dresses, my stomach sinking even lower. “I don’t know about this,” I said, eyeing the plunging necklines and daring cuts. All I could think about was how my body would be tumbling out of these gowns in all the wrong ways.

“Trust the process,” Percy said, practically bouncing with excitement as she popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and handed me a glass. “We’re just getting started.”

I took a hesitant sip, feeling the bubbles tickle my nose. “Remind me again, how did you even find this place?”

“Instagram,” Percy said with a shrug. “I’ve been following them for ages. Their stuff is incredible, and you’re going to look amazing.”

Despite her assurances, I wasn’t convinced, but I took another sip of champagne and headed to the dressing room. It was massive—bigger even than my bedroom—with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and a plush sofa. Still, I couldn’t help but feel like an imposter as I slipped out of my jeans and sweater and into the first dress. The fabric was soft and luxurious, but when I zipped it up and turned to face the mirror, my stomach sank even lower.

The purple dress clung to my body in all the wrong ways. Its plunging neckline made me feel exposed, and all I could see washow it emphasized the roundness of my stomach and the width of my hips. I frowned, tugging at the fabric as I stepped out of the fitting room and into the main space.

Percy’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Agreed,” I said, looking at myself again in a three-way mirror.

“That’s definitely not the one,” Percy said firmly, shaking her head. “Next.”

I sighed and retreated to the fitting room, peeling off the gown and attempting to slip on the onyx one. It wouldn’t even go down over my breasts. Discouraged, I yanked it roughly off over my head and tossed it down onto the floor. Feeling immediately guilty for treating such a delicate garment like garbage, I quickly bent down and hung it back on its hanger.

Next, I slipped into the gold sequined gown. It was … a lot. Too much, in fact. The sequins sparkled so brightly under the lights that they practically blinded me. I felt like she belonged in an 80s-era Las Vegas chorus line.

Before I could fully step into the lounge where Percy sat waiting, she hollered out an emphatic, “Next!”

The silver dress was slightly better, but when I stood in front of the mirror, I still didn’t feel like myself. The open back was elegant, but when I caught sight of the red welts where my bra had been digging into my skin, my stomach churned. I couldn’t wear a bra with this dress, but going braless wasn’t an option, either. I sank down onto the bench next to Percy, rubbing my temples. “This is hopeless.”

“Don’t give up yet,” she said, pouring us both more champagne. “We’re just warming up.”

As if on cue, Marjorie returned with another gown draped over her arm. This one immediately looked different from the others—a structured forest green with delicate cap sleeves and a plunging neckline. It was elegant and understated but had anundeniably sexy allure. It also, apparently, had pockets. “Try this,” she said, her voice softer now, almost encouraging.

I hesitated for a moment, then took the dress. I slipped into it, the fabric gliding against my skin like water. When I zipped it up and turned to face the mirror, I froze.

It was perfect.

It hugged my curves in all the right places. The neckline accentuated my breasts, making them look full and voluptuous without being too revealing. The cut of the fabric minimized the roundness of my belly while emphasizing the hourglass shape of my figure, the skirt cascading over my hips in a way that felt celebratory instead of condemning.

In this dress, I felt like my body was something to be appreciated, not disguised.

Percy’s gasp echoed those thoughts. “Oh my God, Hannah. That’s it.”

I turned slowly in a circle, looking at myself from every angle. For the first time all day, I didn’t feel like an imposter. I felt … beautiful.

Marjorie nodded in approval. “It’s like that dress was made for you.”

I blinked back tears at my reflection, my heart fluttering with a strange mix of excitement and disbelief. I bit my lip, turning to Percy. “Do you think Max will like it?”

Percy grinned, raising her glass of champagne in salute. “Honey, when he sees you in that dress, Max isn’t going to know what hit him. No one will.”

My stomach flipped at the thought. Maybe Percy was right. Perhaps this was my chance to step out of my comfort zone and show Max (and myself) that I could be more—more daring, more desirable.

I turned back to the mirror, smoothing my hands over the fabric with a small smile. “Okay. I’ll take it.” It was going toset me back hundreds of dollars, but suddenly, the cost felt well worth it.

Percy clapped her hands together in triumph. “Yay! I’m so excited for you!”

I laughed, clinking my glass against Percy’s. And as I sipped my champagne, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe this wedding and my fake date with Max were going to be more than I bargained for—but in a good way.

Chapter Three

I hummedalong to the music coming from my speaker as I dipped the paint roller into the tray and ran it across the wall. With my schedule, I didn’t often have time for projects like this, but I was determined to finally turn my condo into a restful, calming sanctuary. The steely blue paint I’d picked out reminded me of the color of the ocean on Plum Island on a clear day.

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