Apple of My Eye (Tiger's Eye Mystery #7) - Alyssa Day Page 0,22

right. I did like reliable and dependable.

But Jack had been completely reliable and dependable when all the trouble had hit this year… And I really, really liked him.

"I don't know, Molls," I admitted. "But isn't it worth at least having one date to figure it out?"

She sighed. "I can't argue with that. But only one date until I decide if he's good enough for you! And you have to call and tell me everything. Not tonight, but tomorrow, when the shop's slow."

"It won't be slow, it's a GYST day." Molly knew all about how hectic the shop got when the Golden Years Swamp Tours bus stopped by a few times a week on its way to take the nation's senior citizens on their AARP-approved jaunts into swamp territory and alligator viewing.

"Okay, okay, but after. Or when you eat lunch. Promise?"

"I promise! But this isn't solving the immediate problem. I don't want to go on this date wearing a church dress or jeans. I feel like I have a lot to live up to, after The Dress."

Molly, who'd practically tied me down to force me to buy that red dress, chuckled. "I still can't believe that saleswoman. Anyway, the problem is already solved."

"What? Which problem?"

"The fashion problem. I got you an early birthday present when I was in New York. It's in a garment bag in the closet in the spare room. I knew you wouldn't find it there until I was ready for you to see it."

I jumped up and dashed over to my spare room, which was easy enough, since it was just across the hall, and yanked open the closet doors. Sure enough, in pride of place in the middle of the closet, with my winter coats pushed to one side, was a black garment bag.

I made a sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a shriek, much to my embarrassment.

"What did you do? Oh, Molly, I told you—"

"You said not to buy you anything expensive, but I told you in fourth grade that you were not the boss of me, and it's still true. Just open the bag, so I can hear your reaction, and then I have to run, they're banging on my door, but you send me a selfie the second you put it on, you hear?"

I put the phone on speaker and tossed it on the bed and then carefully unzipped the bag.

"Oh, Molly."

I was almost speechless, opening and shutting my mouth like a fish.

"Oh, Molly. It's… it's beautiful."

"I know," she said smugly. "If I weren't a kickass musician, I'd be a world-class fashion designer. Or an astronaut. Oh, damn. I have to go. Try it on and send me a picture! Jack doesn't deserve you."

"I will. Molly, thank you so much! But it's too expensive—"

Click.

Molly, always impatient with gratitude, hung up, and I took one of the most beautiful dresses in the world out of the garment bag.

It was emerald-green silk, which would look amazing with my red hair. There wasn't much to it—it was a deceptively simple sheath. No frills, no ruffles, no decoration except for an embroidered pattern in a deeper green ribbon band that ran round the hem. It wasn't short enough to make me uncomfortable, and the scoop neckline wasn't deep, but it was, in spite of being conservatively cut and oh-so-proper at first glance, an incredibly sexy dress.

It was all in the fit. Molly, who'd grown up with me, probably knew my measurements better than I did, and I'd eat the garment bag if she hadn't had this tailored to fit me like a glove.

I was almost afraid to try it on, but there was no way I could resist.

I yanked off my barn clothes, stepped into the dress, and pulled up the back zipper, and then I ran back to my bedroom to look at myself in the full-length antique mirror I'd restored and refinished a few years back.

"Oh, my goodness," I whispered. "Lou, I'm beautiful."

And I was. Somehow, the green was the exact shade to make my eyes look even bluer and my skin glow. I released my hair from its French knot, and it fell almost to my waist. I hadn't cut it in a while, partly because I'd been too busy to go the salon, and partly because I really loved it long.

Jack loves it long too.

I told my inner voice to shut the heck up, admired myself for a while longer, and then carefully hung the dress on the hook on a