“What do you think?”

It’s gorgeous. The tiny beads, probably hand-sewn, are focused around the deep neckline and fade in an ombre effect the closer to the natural waist you get. A sheer panel is visible underneath the armholes, leaving little modesty but in an elegant way. If it wasn’t for the beading quality, I would think it is a modern garment. The beading picks back up about mid-knee, growing denser the closer to the bottom hem of the dress, which appears to be a mermaid silhouette.

“Isn’t it a bit much for an engagement party?”

We went out shopping today to find a dress for Wesley and Savannah’s engagement party. Since they haven’t set a date for the actual wedding, Savannah hasn’t mentioned actually going shopping for the dress. Knowing how obsessed she is with the TLC showSay Yes to the Dress, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up wanting to take a trip to New York and make it a huge event.

Savannah’s brows scrunch together as she inspects the dress.

“I’m going to try it on anyway.” Within seconds, she is darting toward the row of velvet curtains.

My phone buzzes with a text notification.

I don’t even look.

As I’m with Savannah, there’s a 95% sure chance I know exactly who that text is from, and I have no interest in responding to it.

Perusing the non-bridal dresses, I notice an array of fabrics and colors, all signifying a different decade. The dresses are, for the most part, separated into different racks for each decade. Despite this, I find a small bar toward the back marked ‘Curvy.’

Although most of the store has a bunch of options from every decade, most of the dresses available for women over a size ten look to be from the fifties and sixties. That, or they’re just the most modest garments from the other decades that I’ve ever seen. I pull a velvet knee-length dress from the rack, holding it to my body. It’s a bit disproportionate against my frame, but I am confident I can have it tailored to work for Savannah and Wesley’s party.

“What do you think?” Savannah’s voice carries over my shoulder, causing me to turn on my heels.

She looks like a dream.

Her red hair is fanned over one shoulder, showing the deep V-shaped open back of the gown I hadn’t noticed before. She turns in place, showing the front of the dress. Despite the deep neckline, Savannah’s body fits it like a glove, and it is surprisingly modest—at least by today’s standards.

“Oh, that looks just lovely!” The saleswoman appears out of nowhere, no doubt, to get the sale.

Savannah continues to turn in place, looking in the mirror. The grin spread across her face makes me smile. She’s getting this one. It’s obvious.

“Should I try more on?”

I scrunch my brows together.

“Why would you? This one looks stunning.”

Shrugging, Savannah looks back toward the mirror. She continues to inspect the dress with far more scrutiny than the situation calls for.

“Have you guys set a date yet?”

Any time I mention setting a wedding date, Savannah gets weirdly dodgy. It’s not that I think she and Wesley aren’t excited about the wedding and don’t want to set a date, but it seems out of character.

“Not yet—we’re just kind of feeling things out.”

My eyes meet Savannah’s, and she looks down at the dress instantly.

“Is there any way I can stash this at your apartment?”

“What’s wrong with your place?” I ask, confused.

“I don’t want Wesley to see it…”

“Yeah, but you don’t live together.”

Savannah having her own place has been a saving grace since we got back from France. With Jackson living with Wesley, avoiding him has been difficult, but not impossible, with Savannah having her apartment in the city.

“About that…”