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She flicks her hands up in the air before gripping her hips and slowly shaking her head.

“You were right about him,” she says as I inspect my next option with a critical eye.

Yellow is so not my color.

What was I thinking when I bought this dress? I lay the dress on the pile sitting on my bed.

Clearly, I’m not making any progress.

“About what?” I toss to Harper.

“He was a jerk.”

“Ahh... Mr. Lenny. I told you so.”

I give her a side glance.

She shrugs.

“For someone doing such a great job picking editorial pieces for my website, you’re missing the mark when it comes to men,” I say.

She gives me a girlish smile.

“It was not meant to be,” she says, amused.

She can say that twice. Why would it take her so long to realize? If I know anything about her is that she is a free spirit, brimming with life, unable to fit in a box, let alone a small one, and he just killed her with his insecurities.

Shifting my eyes away from her, I pick another hanger.

“Okay...” I murmur, my eyes roaming over the studded dress. “So why are you so obsessed with Jaden?” I ask, tossing her another glance.

She does that weight shifting from one foot to the other, and suddenly, I sense a headache growing.

“He is so fucking hot,” she says, elated.

Her eyes gleam as if charged with electricity.

I study her, baffled. I don’t recall setting them up, having a conference call or video chats. Where did she see him?

Have they exchanged pictures by any chance?

“Hmm... How do you know he’s hot? ”I ask, morbidly suspicious.

A naughty smile brushes her eyes. That can’t be good.

I freeze, waiting for her answer, a dress in one hand, a hanger in the other.

She leans to me and whispers conspiratorially.

“I found his page.”

“What page?”

She bites her lip and rubs her nose, a naughty smile scrunching it up.

“He has this little site...”

“What site?” I wheeze.