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Allison crossed her arms over her chest and backed into the room. “That’s true. I’ve seen your wardrobe, and it can sometimes be a bit eccentric.”
“My family sometimes says it ‘sucks.’ My brother is always calling me a hippie, whatever that means. Business fashion I get, but what do you wear to the best French place in Dublin?”
Allison paused with her hands on the closet handles. “Wow.”
I frowned, not sure how to take her hesitation. Ally was many things, but unsure usually wasn’t one of them. “What?”
She pulled open the doors and revealed the well of goodies before me. Allison had great taste and outfits I’d have loved to borrow more, but she was also six inches taller than I was and a bit skinnier. I wasn’t sure if, even now, she had anything I could repurpose without it being too long and too tight. Then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers either.
&nbs
p; “What do you mean ‘what?’” she asked, clearly trying to go for the innocent act.
“You’re shocked. Is it bad? Is this a crazy sign that he’s taking me out for this super nice date out of nowhere?” My palms grew sweaty, and I rubbed them on the sides of my blouse. Perfect. “I mean, that’s a good sign, right?”
Allison nodded her head fiercely. “It’s like a grand prize sign. Callum O’Brien is the go-to guy for tabloids, even before footballers and movie stars. If he wants to just do something small or make this a dirty little secret…well, he has done that before.”
“Glad you’re so up on the ‘press’ here,” I said, making air quotes with my fingers.
“We have the best tabloids here this side of London. Anyway, he wants to do the full limo and dinner, that Pretty Woman bit, then he’s definitely something.”
“You think he’s serious? It’s been like a day!”
She put her hands on my shoulders. “Iris, breathe. It’s going to be okay. You overthink everything.”
“Clearly I don’t or I wouldn’t even be this far into a relationship.” I blinked. “Is this a relationship? Maybe he just wants to get me more hopped up on fancy French wine!”
Allison scowled at me. “This is why overthinking is your mortal enemy. You’re having a mini conniption. It’s going to be okay. Don’t mull it over, just do.”
“You mean, just put on a dress, smile, drink the champagne, and don’t ask questions.”
“Exactly. Embrace the lifestyle where you don’t question too much. For a few weeks or months, you’re going to have that wild college story we all dream about.”
The tension eased from my shoulders, and I chuckled at my friend. “Don’t you have six or seven of those by now?”
“And it’ll be worth every penny when I’m a corporate drone or a granny with grey hair.” She pulled out another dress and tossed it onto the growing pile before me.
“True,” I said, sitting down on her bed and starting to look at the collection of gowns and going out ensembles. Sighing, I gestured down to my hips. “Do you think any of your dresses will actually work for me?”
“I have a few wrap dresses that can be adjusted.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Allison grinned and chucked a couple dresses at me. A violet one sailed past my head, and a crimson one landed on my lap. A third crashed by me on the mattress. “You, girlie, get to the bathroom and figure out the right look. You have Mr. Right to impress.”
Although my heart felt light, it still seemed to skip a beat. “You mean, Mr. Right Now?”
“We’re twenty-one. That’s part of the point of having some freedom, you know? I…what would some of those poets you’re always reading talk about?”
I blushed as I gathered the dresses in my arms and stood up. “You noticed that?”
“You have textbooks in better condition than I do. Sometimes I sneak a peek at yours so that I can double check notes for class. You have tons of great writers on your shelves. If I didn’t see your room, I wouldn’t have known. Like Wilde, Shelley, and Byron…all that classic and cheeky romantic period stuff. Why aren’t you in literature? Even as a minor?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because, as my father would say, ‘that’s a waste of time and an expensive way to become a barista later in life.’ I have to be serious, practical.”
Allison waggled her eyebrows at me and pointed at the dresses in my arms. “Not tonight you don’t.”
***
