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It was like Simone was describing someone else. That wasn’t the man that Stephanie knew. Ace was warm, friendly, and—she might be reading too much into it—flirty. He hadn’t technically asked her out this morning, but he’d made plans to see her tonight. Though that could’ve simply been a way to shut her up. She did have a tendency to ramble whenever he was around. Words just burst out of her mouth like a popped fire hydrant. Her mind started running down all possible scenarios.
Had he mentioned the reopening in an innocent attempt to be a good neighbor?
Had he just brought up the event as a tactic to change the subject?
Was he simply trying to be polite?
Was he merely trying to shut her up?
Did he really have no interest in seeing her socially?
Did people her age even use the term seeing her socially?
Why did she always feel so much older than her almost twenty-six years?
Why was this the first time she’d had an opportunity to wear her one of a kind little black dress in two years?
With effort she stopped herself before she spiraled further. As she finished tying her shoes she was determined not to go down the rabbit hole that those answers could lead to. She was a worrier. An over-thinker. Worst possible outcomes were her go-to. She couldn’t be certain if she was born with these traits or if they were learned responses of survival thanks to her unorthodox childhood. Nature verses nurture and all that. But whatever the reason, it was something that she was trying to curb and reprogram her brain’s wiring.
Standing with renewed fortitude she faced the mirror, pulled her hair out of the ponytail holder that it spent most of its time in, and ran a brush through the thick waves. This was her night off. She was going to a grand reopening of one of her favorite restaurants. Ace would be there. Not to mention a host of other eye candy thanks to all the Sloan brothers in attendance. Sure they were all happily married, but a girl could still look. In fact, it was safer that way.
Admiring a man, from afar of course, that had absolutely zero interest in you was perhaps the safest form of admiring. No harm, no foul. No love, no heartbreak. No trust, no abandonment.
Just outside the door, her sister was still going on about the fact that no one had been able to break through, or even scale, the walls that Ace put up.
“Maybe they just weren’t his type,” Stephanie interrupted her sister’s rant as she put on a fresh coat of lipstick and applied a lash-volumizing mascara.
“That’s impossible. Believe me,” Simone spoke with confidence.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do.”
“You can’t.”
“Yes I can.”
Setting down her mascara, Stephanie’s head fell back. Conversations like this with her sister were exhausting. “How? How do you know that?”
“Because, I was practically topless in his garage yesterday and he barely noticed. I think he’s probably batting for the other team.”
“What?” Stephanie flung the door open. “You were what?”
“Oh my god.” Simone took a step back and her jaw dropped.
Seriously?Irritation flooded through Stephanie as she waited to hear whatever criticism her sister had now.
She braced herself for Simone pointing out that the dress was too short and she didn’t have the legs to pull it off. Or that she should pull her hair back up, because it was too thick to be down and “swallowed her face.” Or that she needed to wash off her make-up unless her plan was to work a corner after the party.
Whatever her sister said, she could take. Lord knew she’d heard all of those things and worse from her mother, more times than she could count. Still, she wanted to get the critique portion of the evening over with.
“What?” Impatience got the better of her and she snapped. “Just say it.”
“You look…” Simone stared at her in a wide-eyed daze, unable to complete her thought.
Irritation instantly morphed into insecurity. It had to be bad to render Simone speechless. She must look utterly ridiculous.
Stephanie didn’t need her sister’s approval but this was more than that. This was horror. “I’ll change.”
