“I’m aware.”
“When’s the reservation?” Sierra asked, already surveying the clothing chaos.
“Seven-thirty.”
Raven checked her watch. “We have plenty of time.”
Calliope pulled out a bottle of wine and three glasses. “For us. You’re not drinking until after the date. Last thing you need is to show up tipsy.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good.” She poured generous glasses for herself, Raven, and Sierra, then turned to face me with the focus of a general planning a military operation. “Okay. What vibe are we going for?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem.”
“Wrong answer.” Sierra dug through the clothes on my bed. “You want to look hot but not like you’re trying too hard. Confident but approachable. Like this matters, but you’re not desperate.”
“That’s a lot of mixed signals.”
“Welcome to dating.” Raven dropped into my desk chair with her wine. “It’s all mixed signals.”
Calliope held up a deep green shirt, long sleeves, soft fabric, fitted but not tight. “This. With the black jeans that actually fit your ass properly.”
“Which black jeans?”
“The ones you wore to that wedding in September. The expensive ones.”
I dug through the pile and found them. “These?”
“Those.” She tossed me the shirt. “Try it on.”
I pulled on the jeans. She was right; they fit perfectly, and the green shirt showed off my shoulders and chest without being obvious about it.
“Oh.” Sierra’s eyes widened. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
I turned to look in the mirror. Not trying too hard, but the effort showed. The outfit said I care about this without screaming it.
“Shoes.” Raven pointed at my feet. “Not sneakers.”
I grabbed my brown leather boots, the ones I saved for special occasionsbecause they’d cost me a week’s salary.
“Perfect.” Calliope nodded approvingly. “Now sit down. We’re doing your hair.”
“My hair’s fine, darling.”
“Your hair is always fine, but tonight it needs to be exceptional.” She pointed at my desk chair. “Sit.”
I sat.
Raven moved behind me with some product I didn’t recognize, working it through my hair with practiced efficiency. “You’re going to leave it natural but defined. Nothing too styled. You want him to want to run his hands through it.”
“Jesus, Raven.”
“What? I’m being practical.”
Sierra sat on my bed with her wine, watching us. “You nervous?”
“Terrified.”
