Page 82 of Win Some Love Some
He really shouldn’t have said that thing about the shoulders. Poor Nicky.
“Got it.”
Together we continued to go through the rest of the dresses in my size. I was running out of options when Fiona squealed.
“This one! Yes. This says hell hath no fury.”
She spun towards me, holding up a midnight blue dress with spaghetti straps so thin they looked like they would snap from the slightest tug.
Nick’s thick fingers came to mind. Sliding under the strap, pulling it down over my naked shoulders. I did a full body shiver.
“Gimme, gimme,” I said, reaching for it.
“Dressing room is in the back.”
I flung aside the curtain and walked through the showcase area with the dais surrounded by mirrors. The elegant couch between two champagne buckets where best friends and mothers sat to help brides decide which gown to say yes to. In one of the little dressing rooms I took off my jeans and sweater and slipped the dress over my head, getting chills as the silk brushed my skin.
The second I pulled those straps up over my shoulder I knew this dress would be his destruction. The dress hugged my curves, hit mid-thigh and saidI take no prisoners.
And the spaghetti straps…honestly, they just begged to be snapped.
“Let me see,” Fiona said from the showcase room outside my door.
I stepped outside. Fiona stepped back, taking me in from top to bottom.
“Do you have the proper undergarments?” she asked.
“A bra isn’t going to fit under this dress,” I said with a laugh.
“I meant panties. We sell nude thongs.”
“I’ve got the right underwear,” I said, trying to be French about the whole thing.
“Perfect. Then I would say, yes. Yes, that dress is going to hurt someone.”
“Mission accomplished,” I said, looking at myself in the mirrors. The color did nice things for my hair and my skin. The dress was short, but not too short. Tight, but not too tight.
Fiona reached over and gathered my hair in her hand, making a twist at the back of my head. Yes, that was perfect. It made even more of my shoulders.
“Did I hear you and Nick are going to Julie’s wedding?” Fiona asked, casually.
“Where would you hear that?” I jerked away and she let go of my hair.
“Nick said something about it the other night. At poker.”
“Oh. Right,” Mr. Never Talks is suddenly telling everyone what he’s doing? “Yes. But this dress…it’s not for him.”
“Of course not.” She clearly did not believe me.
“I don’t need any revenge on Nick,” I tried to convince her.
“Understood.”
“This is more for me and my self confidence.”
“It suits you perfectly and will make you feel like a goddess. You need shoes.”
I shook my head. “Not in the budget. I have a pair of neutral beige pumps. They should be fine.”
