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I turn to look at my best friend, arms crossed, waiting for some sort of explanation.
Her face is hidden behind her long mane of copper-red hair. It's almost like she is trying to vanish in the stack of clothes hanging in front of her.
“I’m waiting,” I tell her.
She turns and thrusts a beautiful, chiffon, navy one-shoulder piece at me. “This would look great with your eyes.”
I shake my head. I already have a dress for the party, and she knows it. She’s the one who helped me pick it up a few days ago during an outing from which Sookie had to bow out of due to a company matter that her brother apparently could not solve without her.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I know Sookie is going to be a hell of a corporate lawyer when she graduates, and she already is a major asset for Welton Inc., but there’s also Anthony for that kind of thing. So, why would her brother encroach on our fun?
Maybe I'm being paranoid, but it seems like every time Mr. Snobbinghton pulls his sister away from an engagement, that engagement involves me.
Bad timing?
Bad luck?
Or maybe the asshole doesn’t like how close we’re getting.
“Jane?”
She looks at me with an amused expression on her face and scrunches up her nose, making the smatter of freckles on it wrinkle slightly. “You don’t want to know.”
I put the dress back between the others. “Try me.”
She looks at the ceiling. “It’s nothing really… remember the other day when Sook and I went out to do some window shopping?”
“Ha ha…”
"Devon met us for lunch, and afterward, he had his driver drop us at the mall."
“His driver,” I mutter to myself. The guy has a fucking driver. He is disgustingly rich and loves to flaunt it. Snob jackass.
“Well, to cut the story short, he accompanied us inside and was there for a couple of minutes…”
"And?" I ask, getting impatient. As always, if a conversation relates to that prick, I want it over as soon as possible.
“And I pointed at a scarf in a display,” Sookie says, coming out from behind the purple curtains of the stall, wearing the yellow dress. Before either of us can comment on how she looks, she glances at the mirror and goes back inside the dressing room. "Too tight on the chest and too much cleavage showing, I was right. I would not feel comfortable in it,” she mumbles.
I roll my eyes. “You need to live a little, Sook!”
“Try the pink one,” Jane encourages her with a smile, momentarily sticking her head behind the drape.
“So it was a horrible scarf, I presume.”
Sookie peers from one side of the stall, a smile on her lips. “That’s what they said,” she goes back inside.
“Suicide-inducing,” Jane shudders, making a face.
“And?” I ask again.
"And nothing. Sookie was bemoaning her inability to pick anything remotely wearable. I was laughing at the irony of having as much money as she does and being so helpless when it comes to shopping…"
Sookie comes out of the stall, absolutely beautiful in the pink number, a huge grin on her lips. "And my brother said the same exact thing you just did about it."
Jane nods, smiling. “Uncanny, right?” she turns to look at Sookie again. “Sweetie, you should totally get this. You’ll look stunning in it.”
I smile at them. “I agree. Not with the whole Devon-thing being uncanny. That’s hardly the case, but you do look awesome in this gown, Sook.”
