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The assistant, who’s name, according to her tag, was Becky, eyed her critically. “What do you have in mind?”
Faith let Megan answer. This was her show.
“Whatever you think is most appropriate.”
Becky’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Okay. Wait over by the changing room. I have some ideas.” She bustled off, and the girls headed for the area she’d indicated.
“What was that?” Faith asked.
Megan ducked her head. “Charles was very image-conscious.” Charles, her abusive ex, was currently incarcerated and awaiting trial. “Being with him meant always looking my best. I picked up a thing or two.”
“Huh.” Faith looked her up and down. “But you’re always so….”
“Casual?” Megan supplied, her smile wry. “He’s the reason for that.”
“Well, good for you, sugar.”
“In this case, my knowledge is good for you too.”
Becky returned, weighed down by a number of dresses. She beelined for one of the changing cubicles and hung them inside, then turned to Faith. “Try each one on, no exceptions, and come out here so we can see.” She sat, and Megan did the same.
Intrigued, Faith entered the cubicle and scanned the selection. There were at least half a dozen dresses ranging in length from mid-thigh to ankle and encompassing all colors except orange and yellow—a good call because they washed her out.
She opted for the red first to get it out of the way. She was well-versed in which shades of red she could pull off, and this wasn’t one of them, but other than that, she did like the dress. It had a swishy skirt and low-cut bodice, displaying her best features to great advantage. Stepping back into her black heels, she marched out to show the others.
Becky cringed at the color. “Well, it was worth a shot.”
Next, she tried a purple dress that she was inclined to like because the long skirt made her appear taller. Alas, Megan rejected it, saying it wouldn’t wow anyone. The brown was elegant, but no one could call it sexy. The blue felt more like something she’d usually wear, and she pirouetted in front of the mirror, pleased when the skirt flared up.
“It’s a lovely dress,” Megan said. “Definitely eye-catching.”
“You think it’s the one?” she asked.
Becky held up a finger. “No one is commenting on what is or isn’t ‘the one’ until you’ve tried them all. Let’s see the black.”
Faith changed, and then strutted out like a model on the catwalk, chuckling at the notion. Certainly no models had hips or an ass like hers.
Megan nodded approvingly. “Very sexy.”
“But is it too sexy for a wedding?” Becky asked, tapping her chin in thought.
The fact they had to think about it was enough for Faith to add it to the rejects pile. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. That left one dress, which she’d been saving for last. It was emerald green with a plunging neckline and a fitted skirt. While she loved the color, she didn’t think she could pull off something so formfitting. Nevertheless, she dropped it over her head and wriggled in, then turned to face herself in the mirror. She froze. The dress caressed her every curve without being tight and it flattered her complexion perfectly. She looked like a seductress. Toying with her hair, she imagined how she’d look once it was done.
Brilliant. This was the dress.
“Uh, Faith, are you coming out?” Megan asked.
She stepped out and twirled. “What do you think?”
Megan clapped her hand to her mouth, eyes wide. “You look amazing!” She turned to Becky. “Doesn’t she?”
Faith grinned. “Tell me this is not the dress. I dare you.”
“That’s definitely the dress,” Becky agreed. “Your boyfriend isn’t going to know what hit him.”
Faith and Megan exchanged a glance but neither corrected her.
“Now you need shoes.”
