Page 4 of Jack Frost
Chapter Three
“This?” I pull a red cardigan out of my closet and toss it down on the bed, pulling out a little black dress after it, considering pairing them together. “And then I have the black maryjanes and I can do black tights. Yeah?”
“Um, are you going to a holiday party at the convent?” Sammy says, holding the dress and cardigan up to my body, turning me to face the floor-length mirror.
“What?” I say, scowling in the mirror. “It’s a little black dress and a cardigan. It’s festive.”
“Come on. Get serious. That’s for an office party. You really want to look classy tonight? For Jack?” She shakes her head and slips the garments back into the closet.
“I mean, it’s festive, isn’t it?” I say, swiping my fingers along the clothes hanging up in my closet. But she’s right. My wardrobe consists of conservative dresses, tailored pants and jackets, and baggy sweaters. Sometimes I’ll spice it up with a sexy pump heel, but that’s about it.
“You don’t want festive, hun.” Sammy roots around, swishing the hangers along until she comes upon a few special occasion dresses I have hidden at one side. “How about this?” She pulls out a curve-hugging black dress that I wore to my cousin’s graduation a few years ago. It hung straight down and grazed my hips at the time, but I recently tried it on just to see if it would still fit.
“I guess so,” I say, “but I’m not going to be comfortable in that. It’s way too tight. I’ve gained, like, thirty pounds in the last three years.”
“All the better,” Sammy says, holding the dress up to me and stretching the fabric out around my waist. “Just try it on.”
I grab the hanger and stand there for a second, waiting for Sammy to give me some privacy.
“Hello,” she says, raising an eyebrow to me. “I’ve seen it all. I have all the parts you do.”
“Fine,” I say, pulling my sweatshirt over my head and pulling on the dress. I can barely get the tight black fabric down over my boobs. I pull the fabric over the waist of my pajama pants and pull them down, stepping out and smoothing the dress over my thighs.
“You might have to lose the bra,” Sammy says, stepping around me and looking at me from all sides.
“What do you mean?” I say, looking down at the cleavage peeking up from the low sweetheart neckline.
“I mean,” she says, coming around to face me and looking straight at my chest, “that the dress would look better without your boobs being covered up by that bra. The straps are all wrong. What about a strapless?”
“Hm,” I say, considering my reflection in the mirror. The dress is short, hitting just below my butt. My fingertips graze along the bottom hem if I make them long and straight. “I don’t think I have a strapless bra.”
“And what about these panty lines?” Sammy says, poking me in the gut. “This has got to go.”
My face flushes as I think about going to the party without any underwear.
But this is a tradition, after all, and I’m the only person who’ll know I don’t have anything on underneath my dress.
Me and Sammy, that is.
“Fine.” My stomach flips as I nod my head slowly. “If you say so.”
“That’s the fucking spirit!” Sammy hops over to my closet and brushes her fingers along all of my clothes that I thought were cute and sexy until a few moments ago. Now, standing in front of the mirror looking at myself with all my curves showing in just the right places, I decide that it’s the right look for the party.
“I wonder if Jack’ll like it,” I say, spinning around with a huge smile plastered on my face. A knot of nerves clenches up in my stomach as a little flash of heat hits me between the legs.
“Oh,” Sammy says, slipping on a pair of my heels and standing next to me. “I have a feeling he’ll love it.”
