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“Thanks.”
She lets my hand go and tucks hers under her chin as she looks around the room once more.
“Sure you don’t have a favorite?”
I chuckle. “You are persistent.”
“You know it.”
I sigh. I might as well choose one and put an end to her agony.
My gaze falls on the royal blue dress with the lace sleeves, which looks, well, royal. And elegant. If she had blue eyes, it would have made them pop, but I have a feeling it’ll still make her gray eyes sparkle. I point to it.
“That one.”
“This one?” Leah grabs the dress from the wall and holds it in front of her.
I give her a smile and nod. “Perfect.”
Chapter Thirteen
Leah
“You look perfect,” Giselle tells me as we sit in the back seat of the car en route to Fiona’s house.
She gives me an encouraging smile as her hand squeezes mine.
I squeeze hers back. “Thanks.”
I know the dress I’m wearing looks good. Gavin picked it, after all. I’m also satisfied with my makeup, which Giselle helped me with. I’ve combed my hair as best as I can. I brushed my teeth. I put on perfume- just a dab. Even so, I can’t help but feel anxious as each minute brings me closer to where Fiona and the other prizes are.
Will they understand me? Will they like me?
I know this is a get-together, not a popularity contest. Like Gavin says, I’m not expected to impress anyone, or even make anyone like me. But I don’t want to be hated, either, or give anyone the wrong impression.
“What’s wrong?” Giselle asks me. I hear concern in her voice.
“Nothing,” I answer as I look at her. “I’m just nervous, I guess. I’ve never been good at making friends.”
“But you made friends with me,” Giselle reminds me.
I smile. “And I’m glad you’re here with me.”
This way, even if I don’t make any new friends, I’ll still have one who’s with me every day. So what am I worried about?
“I’ll be fine,” I assure Giselle.
She gives me another encouraging smile.
I look out the window and draw a deep breath.
And I’m sure everything will be fine.
~
I was wrong.
Everything started out on the wrong foot. The moment I arrived, I realized that another woman, one with long golden hair like I used to have, was wearing the exact same dress as me.
Why didn’t that possibility cross my mind? It should have, since I knew I was meeting with other prizes. I should have realized that they’re just like me, that they get most of their clothes from Fiona just like me. I should have worn one of my old dresses. Well, my only old dress. If it still fit. No, I should have thought of shopping somewhere else.
But I didn’t. And since the long-haired woman got there first, I was the one who appeared like a rip-off. The fact that she started sobbing made me feel even worse.
Thankfully, Fiona had a bunch of other dresses for me to change into. I chose a denim dress, hoping that when the last prize arrived, she wouldn’t be wearing the same outfit. She wasn’t. The brunette, who introduced herself as Hannah, was wearing a white blouse and peach-colored overalls. Cute, actually.
I thought everything would go well after that, but no. The one with the long hair, whose name I learned was Lily, wouldn’t say a word to me, or to anyone for that matter. The other prize, Jan, who had dark skin and hair, wasn’t interested in making friends. She was only interested in boasting about everything she had- hot tub, jewelry, her own spa- and complaining about everything she didn’t- mainly action in bed. She claimed that her protector wasn’t a good lover, that sex was always over too soon. I had to keep myself from blushing as I thought of sex with Gavin.
Hannah was okay. She said she was the second prize of her protector and that she and the other prize, who had just been taken away to give birth to her second child, were good friends. I thought we’d be friends, too, but before we could talk more, she started throwing up. Some of the sticky goo ended up on my foot. She wouldn’t stop, so Fiona had to take her away.
So much for making friends.
As Giselle washes my foot in the bathroom, I place my hand on my forehead and let out a sigh.
“This is a disaster, isn’t it?”
“Well, I think I was able to get most of it off,” Giselle tells me.
I glance at my foot. She’s right. My foot looks clean. That wasn’t what I meant, though.
“I was talking about this… gathering, whatever this is.”
It’s a stupid idea. If you think about it, bringing four strangers together is never a guaranteed success under any circumstances. They might not get along. They might ignore each other. Make that four women and the success rate gets lower. I know men have bigger egos, but women are more competitive. It doesn’t take much for us to get our claws out. Make that four pregnant women and well, of course it’s a disaster. Hormones are all over the place. Tears. Vomit. It’s a mess waiting to happen.
