“He’s just being nice to me. I think he feels bad for me.”
“I think you’re fucking him,” she says, and I see the shop girl’s heads snap in our direction. I remind myself she thinks we’re talking about Ellis, and I guess we sort of are. Even though it was Nash who put this whole thing together.
I want to be wracked with guilt, but these dresses are…so nice.
“So what if I am?”
“I had a feeling this would happen, and I’m not gonna lie, Hanna. I was sort of hoping it would. He’s a catch.”
“You’re just saying that because he’s older than me and rich.”
“You make me sound like such a gold digger,” she teases me, and I laugh, looking back at her.
“Ma’am, would you like assistance with trying on one of the gowns?” the girl with the pasty skin asks, walking over to us.
“What exactly did Mr. Prior request?” I ask looking at the dresses all in different shades of ruby, scarlet, and maroon.
“He requested something in red. His exact words were, ‘you look beautiful in red’.”
A small gasp escapes Zara’s lips, and I can’t fight the smile on my face. “Thank you. I’ll try this one first.”
Grabbing the off-the-shoulder gown, I take it into the dressing room, closing the curtain behind me. Taking out my phone, I shoot Nash a quick text.
Red, huh?
The typing bubble pops up.
I expect pictures.
So does Ellis.
Biting my lip, I set my phone down and strip off my clothes, pulling on the gown. It’s gathered on one side of my waist and fits perfectly, hanging off my shoulders. Did he measure me in my sleep or something? My dark hair hangs off to one side, and as I look in the mirror, I try to find the same girl in the reflection I saw in the bathroom the other day. But she’s not here. Not in this upscale dressing room. The girl looking back at me isn’t so afraid.
Picking up my phone, I take a quick shot in the mirror. Nash was right. This color looks good on my skin tone, bringing out the warm hues, contrasting the black of my hair.
Then, I shoot the picture in a group text with both of them.
Their responses are immediate.
Nash: Fuck yes.
Ellis: We’re not going to make it through the party if you wear that.
Ellis: Try on another one.
Nash: No. Just come home.
I feel like a fool, grinning like an idiot at my phone.
“What the fuck are you doing in there? I want to see,” Zara whines.
“Okay, okay.” Pulling back the curtain, I walk out to the sitting room, standing in front of the alcove of mirrors to get the full effect.
Zara whistles. “That is hot. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you in that.”
“He wants me to try the rest of them on.”
“I bet he does.”
The shop girl brings us both refills of our champagne as I pull the next dress into the dressing room. It’s a satin gown with a high slit up the leg. Then a silk, deep cut neckline with bright gemstones like stars on the bust.
Nash: Buy them all.
Ellis: I like the first one.
Nash: COME HOME.
I stare at the text for a moment. Home. He means his home, doesn’t he? It’s not my home. I can’t let myself think like that.
Coming out of the dressing room in my original clothes, I smile down at Zara, sitting on the plush couch holding baby Harper in her arms. Leaning down, I place a kiss on the baby’s head.
“Ready to go?”
“Which one did you decide on?”
“He likes the first one.”
“Good choice, Ellis,” she replies, putting the baby back in her stroller. “You know, I have to admit,” she says. “You two are going to be the hottest couple at the party.”
I’m hit with a sudden flush of guilt. “It’s really Nash’s big night.”
At the mention of his name, her head snaps up. “Of course. Does he…have a date?”
Zara asking me about Nash is surreal. If anyone would know what was going on in his life, it would be her.
“Not that I know of,” I say carefully without making eye contact. “I think he plans on going with me and Ellis.”
“He needs his own date,” she replies. My skin is pricking with nerves as I try to act casual.
“You’d be okay with that? Him having a date.”
She stops for a second. “Of course. He has to live his own life. I honestly don’t know what he’s