“No way.”
“Candy…what did we say about fantasy guys?”
“They are real. I met them both now, you know. In the real world.” And she saw Jethro at the concert, so she should know.
“Yes, fine. But did either of them ask you out?”
“One of them came close,” I say defensively.
If I hadn’t let my big mouth run with no filter.
“Or not.”
“Bry…”
“Let me do your hair. And make up your face. You’ll look so pretty. Come on, Candy…”
“You want to use me like a doll to play.”
She scrunches up her nose. “That sounds harsh. I just want you to let out your real you.”
Okay… “My real me will be freed through the use of make-up and the curling iron?”
“The outside reflects the inside.” She puts her hands on her ample chest, and her face contorts melodramatically. “If you look good outside, you will feel powerful inside.”
There may be something in what she says…
“I’m going now.” She waves a manicured hand at me and smacks her ruby-colored lips. “Think about it. Want to get the boys? Work a little for it. The offer stands.”
I watch her go.
Hey, I’m sure Joel would have asked me out had I not inserted my foot into my mouth. Right? Or is that really super-wishful thinking?
What would I have to lose by following Brylee’s advice except for lots of time I could have put to better use?
I blow a blond curl from my face, pull my braids back, purse my lips. Have I overdone it? Did I bury my real self too deeply? Also, do I look like a crazy person?
It is a possibility.
With a heavy sigh, I get up and open my closet. I push aside my Star Wars- and Lord of the Rings-themed clothes and reach for clothes I haven’t worn since before Liam.
When I was still hopeful, when I still believed it was fine to lust after two handsome guys and want them both. That trying to get them wasn’t stupid.
That I was a sex kitten with claws and I could dress to show it.
***
Stupid or not, the next day Donna whistles when I enter the shop and put my purse behind the counter.
“What happened to you?” She winks at me and flickers her tongue in and out like a snake.
Creepy. “No idea what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. Are we expecting Very Important Visitors?”
“VIV?” I sigh. “Nope. Can’t a girl dress for herself?”
“No,” Donna says matter-of-factly, scrolling through her emails. “Or we’d be lounging around braless, in yoga pants and with greasy hair every day. Hey, wanna hear the newest in the resume world?”