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As I took in my reflection, a girl with pale skin, a single braid of red, wide eyes, and way too much implied innocence stared back. “I look like jailbait.” I was already going out with a man a decade older than me. Would this make him question that? I didn’t care for the surge of doubt.
Violet met my gaze in the reflection. “You look fuckable, and of consenting age. Cole knows who he asked out.”
“I’m supposed to be making business connections.” I tugged at the hem of my skirt. I wanted her to convince me this was okay, because she was right, I also looked good.
Violet lightly slapped my hands down. “If they don’t love you for your brain, they don’t deserve you.”
Even I wasn’t the kind of optimist who could let that go unchallenged. “You know it doesn’t work that way.” A book wasn’t always judged by its cover, but the odds certainly leaned in that direction.
“I know that it should. I won’t be hurt if you want to wear something else, but I wouldn’t have brought this if I thought it wasn’t right.” Violet’s gaze, as she stared at me in the mirror, and her tone carried her sincerity.
I smoothed out the blouse and skirt. “I really do look good.”
“Duh.”
I’d wear the outfit. There was plenty else for me to freak out about tonight anyway, like a first date with a man I practically worshiped, to meet his work colleagues and hopefully leave the right kind of impression on all of them that I didn’t make myself even more of a pariah in the industry.
