Page 138 of Daddy By Design
I stand and walk on shaky legs into my room. Clothes are strewn all over the bed, indecision still weighing on me. Last week I did some shopping, but I can’t decide which of those purchases to wear tonight. Because it’s on top, I wiggle into a short purple sundress, and then eye my reflection in the full-length mirror. It’s summery and sexy in an understated way. Would the little black halter dress be better? I wish one of my sisters were around to offer an opinion.
As if I have my very own fairy godmother on speed dial, I hear a door slam, followed by footsteps on the stairs. I walk out to the landing to find Amber coming up, lost in thought. Looks like unwelcome thoughts, judging by the way she’s gnawing her lip and frowning into space. I apply the brakes and prepare to put my body in reverse. Now is not the time to hit her up with a fashion emergency.
But I’m not quick enough. She spies me. “Oh, hey.” She slips the small bag in her hand into the outside pocket of her purse. “Didn’t see you there.” Her steps speed up as she approaches the landing, but then she pauses and looks me over. “Cute dress. That color’s great on you.”
The unsolicited compliment bolsters my courage. “You think?” I pluck at the skirt. “I’m trying to decide between this and a black dress.”
“What’s the occasion?” She heads toward my room.
“I’m going out with Vaughn.” I double step to catch up with her, then almost plow into her when she abruptly stops.
She turns. “As in, a date?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa.” Her eyes go wide. “Really? Dixie insisted you’d taken some kind of vow of celibacy.”
My sisters know I got into an auto accident with my boyfriend during my senior year, but no details. They don’t know the whole situation.
“No vow,” I say. “Vaughn asked me out and I said yes. As to where it leads…we’ll see.”
“Sure you want to stress the dress?” She walks over to my bed. “Underwear might be the thing to put the effort into.”
“I’m not wearing any,” I joke. But as long as she’s here, I pick up the black dress and hold it in front of me. “Which one says, ‘I dare you to find out’?”
Amber tilts her head and taps her finger against her upper lip. “The black one is all-out sexy, and makes your blond hair pop, but honestly?”
“Yes, please.”
“I think it’s a little too straightforward for you. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I’m just saying it’s more Dixie than Kendall. You know?”
I do. I toss it aside and study myself in the mirror again.
Amber comes up behind me. “The purple plays up your eyes. Plus the keyhole neckline is unique and a little naughty.”
“That’s perfect for a first date, right?”
“You ask me this with a straight face after admitting you’re not wearing underwear?” She turns her head and scans the few pieces of jewelry on the dresser. “Besides, this isn’t really your first date. Open mic night was your first date. His birthday party was date number two. So that makes this date number three. As for the dress, I like it with these.” She hands me the diamond drop earrings my parents gave me for graduation.
I take them from her and work them into my ears. Via the mirror, I smile at her. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She grins back.
My gaze strays to my nightstand, and I spy the pills she left for me. “By the way, thanks for the painkillers. I didn’t need them, but it was thoughtful of you.”
She notices where my attention has wandered. “I didn’t leave them.”
Huh. “If you didn’t, then that means…”
Amber lifts one corner of her mouth. “I guess Dixie’s good for more than just giving headaches. I texted her last night and told her you had a migraine. She must have dropped them off.”
“Well, that’s certainly…” Mind-blowing? “…unexpected. They’re probably not painkillers at all. They’re probably poison.”
She laughs. “Actually, I think having sisters around is growing on her. When I talked to Matt at the party yesterday, he told me after her open-mic performance, she got flustered when the guys told her we’d come to see her sing.”
“Really? All I got from her was a snide comment about us leaving early and missing the real fun.”
“Of course you did. She’d swallow her tongue before admitting the truth out loud, but we know better. She liked that we showed. The whole I-don’t-need-anybody ’tude is a big, fat act. We all need someone sometimes.”