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“These are what I had picked out. We have to see if there’s the perfect one.”
“Too much at stake, I know.” Lila narrows her eyes at me like she’s focusing. “You need a pastel color. It will look good with your blonde hair. It would bring out your green Rapunzel eyes.”
I roll my green Rapunzel eyes at her. “I have several pastels picked out. Which one is the best.”
“Not the yellow. We don’t want you to look like a rubber duck.”
A laugh escapes as I take the yellow dress of the hanging rack and lay it over another chair.
“Not the blue. I think my mother is wearing blue and we know you don’t want to match her.”
“No, I do not.” I take two of the blue dresses off and they join the yellow.
“What about these two?” I hold up a lavender and a pale pink.
“They’re both really cute. Short, but not so short that you’ll give my mom a heart attack.” She stands and takes both the dresses from me. I stand still as she holds one up to me and then the other. “Lavender, definitely.”
“Good, I really like this one.” I hang it back up, along with the other dresses. Then I look back at Lila, my chest warm. “Lila. You’re getting married.”
She squeals and beams at me. “I know! I’m getting married!”
We jump up and down, squealing and laughing. I may not be the one getting married, but I’m just as excited for her. Her and Sam belong together.
“Hello?”
We freeze, our eyes widening.
“Oh my God,” Lila whispers.
“Oh my God,” I whisper back.
“We’re back here,” I squeak out. Of course Adam is going to show up when both Lila and I are acting like little girls.
“I’m going to go.” Lila passes me the bagel bag. “Have fun.”
“No,” I whisper, trying to pull her sleeve to hold her here but my best friend is a ninja. She’s out of the back room before I can stop her. And then Adam is in the doorway and all of the oxygen flees the room as well. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Adam’s lips go crooked, amusement in his gaze. “Do you want me to get started on the dressing rooms?”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Yes.”
He doesn’t move for a minute, then just says, “Sure thing, boss.”
Then he’s gone and it still takes me a few seconds to catch my breath.
When I go back into the main area, my coffee is still sitting on the counter, along with a second one. My heart flips when I realize Adam picked a coffee up for me on his way in today. I read the cup and see he even knows my favorite—butterscotch. God, I’m in trouble. He’s painting the interior of the women’s dressing room when I enter.
“You bought me coffee.”
The painting pauses and he turns around slowly, careful not to drip any paint. “I did.”
“You know my favorite flavor.” I don’t know why I sound accusing.
The amusement is back in his gaze. “It’s not hard to see what you get everyday. It’s written on the cup.”
“You thought of me this morning when you went to the coffee shop.” Again, my tone is accusing. It’s a great way to start a conversation, I know.
“I think of you all the time.” The amusement fades from his gaze as he says it, replaced by something else I can’t name.
