Page 100 of My Destiny
The best they have. I want to surprise Brooke.
Walking around to the passenger side, I open the door and extend my hand to her. Fingers crossed they’re not sold out. Although ballet isn’t my thing, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see my girl smile.
“It’s only eleven,” I say, looking down at my watch. “How about a little retail therapy before lunch?”
“Sounds good. Is there anything in particular you’re after?”
“I was thinking about you.”
“I don’t really need anything,” she says. But I’ve seen how sparse her wardrobe is.
“I was thinking formal wear. I have some work functions coming up.”
“Oh.” She goes quiet.
“You don’t want to come with me?”
“Of course, but money is tight right now.”
“I didn’t say anything about you paying.”
“And I’d rather you didn’t.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Come on,” I encourage. “It won’t hurt to look.” She gives me a sceptical look, but doesn’t argue. “This is nice,” I say when we walk into the first shop. The dress is red and I love that colour on her.
“It’s okay.” When she screws her face up, I chuckle. “The colour’s nice, but I’m not keen on the style.”
“Show me what you like then.”
“This,” she says, taking a baby blue dress off the rack and holding it up. “It’s so pretty.” I love how unspoilt and unpretentious she is. She’s gone without her entire life and deserves all the pretty things. “I love, love,lovethis one.” She picks up an emerald green dress and eyes it. “Oh, and this black one.”
“Can I help you with anything?” the sales assistant asks when she approaches us.
“We’re just looking,” Brooke replies.
“Actually, she’d like to try on a few dresses.” I have to fight my smile when I see Brooke’s eyes narrow. “It won’t hurt to try them on.”
“But…”
“Come on, humour me.”
“Fine,” she says with a sigh.
“What size are you?” the assistant asks.
“A ten.”
She takes the emerald dress out of Brooke’s hands, and grabs the same dress in the right size. “The fitting rooms are this way.”
Brooke follows her, but I hang back. Once they’re out of sight, I grab a size ten in the other two dresses she admired.
I walk towards the back of the store and hand them to the sales assistant. “She’d like to try these on too.”
I stand and watch as she knocks on the door where Brooke is. “Your husband would like you to try these on too.”
Brooke opens the door slightly, sticking out her head. When she eyes the dresses, her gaze moves to me. “He’s not my husband,” she grumbles, making me laugh.
“I’m her future husband,” I retort. When her eyes narrow, my amusement grows.
