I pluck at the tiny spaghetti straps of my new dress that molds to my bust and midriff and tapers over my hips, ending just above my knee with a nice long slit in the back. I’ll admit, I feel kind of sexy as the fabric brushes the back of my bare—freshly shaved and nicely tanned—legs. I’m pleased with my appearance and hope Rory will take notice. I took William’s advice when he fussed at me that I need to “quit hiding beneath your hair.” So, I swept it up into a messy ponytail leaving wispy tendrils curling around my face just like all of the models in the fashion magazines. My cubic zirconia earrings and necklace set shimmer like real diamonds against my tanned skin. I look so much healthier now since I’ve gotten some sun, no longer the pasty-white New Englander. “Well, aren’t you a sight?” I hear from behind me. My heart rate triples as I turn hoping it’s Rory, but it’s actually Kyle standing there. He’s wearing a thin, white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbow, accentuating his afternoon tan. His pressed khaki pants flatter his physique and I have to blink hard to keep myself from staring too much at him. Stop. Regroup. Concentrate. Rory. Must think about Rory.
