Page 43 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

“Then how do you know they don’t fit?”

“I had a baby, Teej. That changes the shape of things.”

“You had your baby nearly a decade ago. You ride that ancient exercise bike in your basement enough for both of us. There’s not an extra bit of anything on you anywhere but your behind, and trust me, that’s a good thing.” TJ picked up the red dress again and marched over to hold it against me, her braids clacking as she moved. And she moved a lot. The woman was constantly in motion. “Just try it on. For me?”

I grabbed the red dress, biting my lip. “You don’t think it sends the wrong message?”

“What message is that? That you’re not even thirty and beautiful and successful and have every right to be at a gala that fuckwit is gonna be at?”

“We don’t know for certain he’ll be there,” I said distantly, rubbing my fingers over the silky material. The soft sheen to it offset my skin well. Or so I’d thought before I’d bought it for a date with the ex, then chickened out on wearing it and shoved it to the back of my closet where it had lived since with a family of mothballs.

I peered in said closet and took a shaky breath. “I haven’t cleaned this closet in forever. I really need to go through it. Maybe I’ll stay home—”

“Shelby, look at me.” TJ tossed the red dress back on the heaping pile of clothes on the bed then gripped my shoulders and spun me around to face her. We were similar heights so there was no avoiding her probing dark gaze. “Why are you afraid to be happy?”

“What?”

“You heard me. It’s just a date. Dex is fine. I had to wipe the drool off my chin when I dropped off the papers to his law office. Where he was counseling a sobbing soon-to-be divorcee. He actually seemed concerned about her. Compassionate. Two qualities rarely seen from lawyer types in my experience.”

“That’s exactly my point. He was so gung ho about getting started and you dropped off those papers days ago. He hasn’t signed them. Hasn’t contacted me with questions or issues. Just…vanished.” I held up a hand and blew out a breath. “I know I’m not giving him enough time. I’m overthinking this.”

“Um, bingo in one. Didn’t you say he texted earlier to confirm what time he should pick you up? He also asked what color you would be wearing so he could coordinate, right? And you said red, which means deep down you want to wear that smokin’ dress.”

“Well, yes, but I mean he vanished regarding work. Anyway, ignore me. I’m probably freaking out over nothing.”

“Correct. I’m sure the guy is busy. Maybe he didn’t have time to go over the papers. He’s not going to agree to a hefty budget and give you twenty percent down then take off.”

I slipped away from her and picked up the red dress again, stroking the silky fabric absently. A dress that beautiful shouldn’t be hidden away in a dark closet with the mothballs. Besides, it wasn’t as if I had any other options. The other dresses weren’t right either. But maybe if I wore something like this, I’d be more confident.

I’d have to be to pull off a number like this. It practically demanded self-assurance.

“You’re probably right,” I admitted. “And dammit, I’m not going to let David do this to me. He’s taken enough years of my life from me. I miss dancing.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I miss a lot of things I hate to admit.”

“Like sex?”

My eyes popped open. “No,” I replied immediately while TJ smirked.

“I’m no poacher, but did I say that man is fine? Not that it matters because he’s laser-focused on you. He asked how you were no fewer than three times in the fifteen minutes I was in his office.”

“He did?” I cleared my throat so I didn’t smile like a dope. “I’m sure just in a professional capacity. He wants me to get started soon.”

“He wants you, full stop. Not sure how you stumbled into such a sexual gold mine but I suspect you are very, very overdue. And hey, just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he knows what to do in bed. But finding out is half the fun.”

I kept stroking the dress to have something to do with my hands. Dex and I were alike that way. Lots of energy. I’d noticed he couldn’t seem to keep his hands still for a moment. And during lunch on his gorgeous off-bedroom terrace last weekend, his leg had never stopped jiggling under the table.

The table set with fancy china for deli takeout sandwiches, along with a thriving potted violet he’d claimed was a present from his mother. He’d also brought out funky mismatched candles because Berry mentioned we didn’t eat in restaurants often, so he’d wanted to make it more of an event for her.

I hadn’t asked him to. He’d just done it.

“Isis calls him Dexterous and mentioned something about it being an old high school nickname. Not that there’s necessarily anything to appreciate about what a high school girl says about dexterity but…”

TJ rolled her eyes. “A high school girl is probably getting way more action than you, girlfriend. Sorry to say.”

Oh, the accuracy, it burned.

I clutched the dress to my chest. “You know what? Fuck it. I’m gonna squeeze my ass into this dress, and I’m going to go have fun. At least I’ll get a decent meal and maybe a couple dances out of the deal. I don’t know if he dances. But who cares, I’ll dance by myself if I have to. The best revenge is living well, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And you asked Dex out because he’s handsome as hell and successful and will make David swallow his dentures.”

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