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“What else are we doing?” Victor asks. “But you’re right, this is inefficient. Why don’t you try on the dresses you’ve already picked out, and I’ll bring a few more for you to the dressing room.”
He wanders away then, acting unbothered by my resistance.
“Let’s leave,” I tell Angelo. “We can get a dress at another store.”
Angelo shrugs. “We can, but is that going to deter him? Do you really want him following us through several stores, increasing the chances of somebody noticing us?”
“Why is he here to begin with?” I demand.
Angelo places his arm back around my shoulders, starting to guide me toward the fitting rooms. “Because he wants to talk.”
“Yeah, and I want Pavone to drop dead. What’s your point?” I ask.
“Princess, I had to play nice with him,” Angelo says. “Now it’s your turn. You want to do this, right? You want to get out of this wedding?”
I glower at him.
The clerk, Hannah, comes up to us, smiling and cheerful despite my scowl. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Hopefully,” I tell her. “My… friend is looking at a few other options.” Having to call Victor myfriendmakes my mouth feel sour. He’s both more and less than afriend. “I thought I’d start with these.”
“Great,” she says, unlocking one of the dressing rooms. “Here you go. I’ll be right here in case you need anything.”
“I’ve got it,” Angelo says a little gruffly, looming over both of us. “You can go back to work.”
Hannah looks at him and her smile freezes a little on her lips. “Yes, sir. Just let me know if I can be of service.”
“Don’t say it,” I mutter to Angelo.
He smirks at me but doesn’t say anything as the clerk walks off.
I take the dresses off Angelo and dart into the fitting room, closing the door before he can follow.
“Oh, come on,” Angelo complains, but he doesn’t try to open the door.
I breathe a sigh of relief. A luxury store like this, the doors are floor to ceiling too, meaning there’s no way for Angelo to peek inside.
It’s a nice space. There’s a little chair in the corner, and plenty of hooks for me to hang up the items I’m trying on as well as my old clothes. The angled mirrors allow me to view myself from all sides.
I quickly undress, setting my skirt and blouse aside, and slip into the first dress I’d chosen.
Unfortunately, it really doesn’t look good on me. The fabric sits wrong, and the skirt billows in a way I dislike. I tell myself that it’s fine, that I don’t want to look good for the wedding reception that probably won’t happen anyway, but I’m having a hard time justifying getting a dress that is so ill-suited.
I take it off and go for the high-necked dress Angelo picked out.
This one is even worse. It might have suited Nessa, who favors a sportier look, but it’s completely opposite of my style.
All the more reason to buy it.
“How’s it look?” Angelo asks after a while.
“Terrible. Perfect for Pavone,” I answer.
Angelo snorts. “Let me see.”
I sigh, opening the dressing room door, and let him see the dress. He looks at me and shakes his head.
“No,” he says. “Just… no.”
