Burn Into Me by Leeson Jillian

Author:Leeson, Jillian [Leeson, Jillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-02-27T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Elle

“This is going to look fantastic on you.”

My sister Rose grabs a baby-pink peplum evening gown off the rack of exclusive designer dresses and holds it up in front of me.

“What do you think?”

I shove it aside. “No way.”

“Come on, just try a pink for once. It will look better than you think.”

Try pink? Is she for real? Surely she remembers how I’ve suffered through endless hours of ballet practice and a relentless stream of auditions and performances when we were growing up. It has put me off for life wearing anything remotely pink and frilly.

“Rose, cut it. I’m never going to wear pink.”

She snatches a red shoulder dress that cascades to the floor. “Red, then. Try it. Look, it’s a deep, valentine red with soft folds. Perfect for any date.”

“I hate this place,” I mutter.

We are in Saks Fifth Avenue, the type of store I’d never have entered in my life if it weren’t for that stupid mouth of mine. I still can’t believe I offered to accompany Ryder to a charity event, of all things. But I didn’t have it in me to ignore the crestfallen look on his face when he had to decline my dinner invite. At the time, I would have done anything to make him smile again—hence my idiotic, reckless offer. And now I have to suffer the consequences of my temporary insanity.

Shaking my head, I flick through the racks, and when I’m about to give up, I find an edgy, asymmetrical black dress that doesn’t look like it would be part of a 50-year old hag’s wardrobe.

“Hey, how about this one?”

Tilting her head, my sister feels the fabric between her fingers.

“Hmmm…that doesn’t look too bad. Why don’t you try it on?”

In the change room I ditch my black tiger-print leggings and white torn top, and put on the dress. I look in the mirror and I’m shocked—it looks great on me. The long slit at the front shows off most of my left leg and a silver chain pinches my waist in just the right places. But what gives it its edgy look is the thin silver-studded strap across my chest, leaving both my shoulders bare.

Rose lets out a squeal when she sees me. “It’s perfect! You have to get it. Now we just have to get you some shoes, and get your hair and your make-up done. And your nails, of course.”

I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have Rose to come with me. I’m not close to the very few female friends I have, who are either from bike circles or The 99, and none of whom I can imagine shopping with me. My sister, however, went frantic when I asked her. Since nine this morning, she’s been dragging me around Midtown from one store to another, trying on dress after dress, but until now I haven’t come across anything remotely to my taste.

I decide to buy the dress, which will prevent me from more hours of shopping torture.

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