Combat Barbie by Heather Long

Author:Heather Long
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯), Always a Marine - Book 11
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Published: 2013-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

***

Wrapped in a towel, Mary stared at the contents of the closet with her hands on her hips. Reunion meant fancy dress. Asking for a limo and corsage meant she better damn well wear a spectacular dress but nothing in the closet appealed to her. Half the dresses hung there still had their tags and the others were mummified in dry cleaner plastic. Shoving one organza peach nightmare to the back, she tried to arrange the other dresses in order of acceptable to no-effing-way.

Very few made it to the acceptable spot. She’d had a basic black number the last time she visited. She left it behind because she deployed a week after returning to base. So where is it? Sorting through the dresses one more time—because shifting them back and forth on the rack might make the dress reappear, she glanced at the clock. Less than an hour until Kyle arrived. No way she could make it to a shop and back with the right dress, even if she found her mother’s magical dress genie locked up somewhere in the house.

“Mary, a letter arrived for you today from your—what are you doing?”

Gritting her teeth, she looked over her shoulder at her mother, all four-foot ten of her. In her late fifties, Lianne Phillips maintained her figure well and dressed in conservative silk pants and jacket. A pair of peep-toed heels peeked out from beneath the hem of her trousers that had to be hemmed exactly right to fit whatever shoes she purchased to match.

“I left a black dress here on my last visit. The one I wore to the opening of the Kensington.” Mary impressed herself that she even remembered the event her mother dragged her to during that leave. Fortunately, the Kensington hosted an opening of a local photographer—a man who spent years photographing war zones. His images were stark, devastating, and left her moved.

“Hmm. I remember that dress. Too short for you. Wear the sienna, it’s far more flattering and it has a lovely slit that will allow you to accentuate your legs.” Setting the manila envelope down on the dresser, she strode across the room and sorted through the closet. The dress she pulled out didn’t boast of any bustle or frills. It gathered tight at the bodice and fell in a straight line to the floor.

Completely unremarkable.

Unconvinced, Mary stared hard at the closet. She really liked the black dress.

“Mary Elizabeth Phillips, the black dress made you look like a hooker. This dress is elegant, and I wasn’t sure it would fit after your last visit. But your lines are cleaner now than they were at eighteen. Put it on.” She thrust the dress at her and Mary chewed her lip.

“It’s for a reunion, Mom. I don’t really want to arrive dressed as the Great Pumpkin.”

Her mother didn’t dignify her with a response, merely pointed to the oriental divider Mary used since junior high to change behind when her mother came in to help her pick out clothes.

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