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And if I happen to knock Austin’s socks—and pants—off? All the better.
I find a cute boutique along the main drag, and browse the racks, calling Millie to check in.
“What iswrongwith you?” her outraged voice echoes, as soon as she picks up.
I freeze, an inky black slip dress in my hands. “Why? What happened?”
“Hoursago,” Millie continues, “you sent me a text that says… Hold on, I’m pulling it up. ‘OMG Lanie McClintock said she likes me. Also, I slept with Austin. A lot. Oops-face emoji, three fire emojis, drooling emoji. I’ll call soon.’ Soon?” she echoes. “You call thissoon?”
“I couldn’t get away!” I protest.
“Forgiven. I can’t believe you really did it.” Millie snorts at me through the phone. “Man, those hip muscles got you good.”
My brain flips through images of Austin last night—those sharp lines leading inward and down. Drooling emoji. “Yep. And he can use them.”
“Don’t be crude,” Millie says. Then, with a laugh, “Totally kidding. Tell meeverythingabout your dubious life choices, obviously.”
I glance around. There are a couple of people browsing nearby, so I grab the dress and beeline for the privacy of the dressing rooms in the back. I yank the curtain shut behind me, drop my voice, and proceed to give her the PG-13 retelling while she makes half-strangled sounds of shock and delight.
“Okay, I’m sending you a picture of an outfit for the party tonight,” I tell her, once I’ve wriggled into the dress. “Does this dress look like a nightie?”
“Anightie?” Millie repeats, aghast. “Are you ninety-six years old?”
“Look at the picture before you judge!” I laugh, sending.
“Oooh, I see what you mean.”
“So?” I check my reflection. It’s seriously sexy. I would never in a million years consider it for a work function back in New York—or even a date night, out in public. But here?
The desert air must be bringing out my inner vamp.
“Of course it has a lingerie vibe,” Mille says, laughing. “That’s the point of a slip dress. It’s sexy! You should get it.”
“Is it too obvious?” I pause. I want Austin to faint with sheer lust, not get arrested for public indecency.
“Maybe?” she says. “A bright color might work better on you. A little less boudoir.”
“Mmm.” I wiggle out of the dress, pleased. “See, I knew you’d know what to do.”
I get dressed again and make my way out of the store as Millie tells me about her weekend. I’m debating new shoes to match the dress, when a glimpse of someone across the street stops me dead in my tracks.
“No!” I gasp, interrupting Millie. “NO!”
I duck behind a sidewalk stand of sunhats, and peer out, praying to the god of crappy coincidences that it’s not who I think it is.
“What?” Millie is demanding through my headphones. “What is it?”
“Shh!” I hiss, even though nobody can hear her. “I thought I was imagining things the other night, but it’s her. It’s really her!”
“Who?”
“Other Jennifer Walker!” I hiss loudly.
Millie gasps. “No way. Are you sure?”
I grab a floppy sunhat from the display and peer across the street again, hiding under the massive brim. Last night, I only had a quick glimpse of her in line at the slushie stand, but now, she’s paused there at the crosslight, I have plenty of time to check.
“Yup.” I say, my heart pounding. “It’s really her.”
