She flicks her hands up in the air before gripping her hips and slowly shaking her head.
“You were right about him,” she says as I inspect my next option with a critical eye.
Yellow is so not my color.
What was I thinking when I bought this dress? I lay the dress on the pile sitting on my bed.
Clearly, I’m not making any progress.
“About what?” I toss to Harper.
“He was a jerk.”
“Ahh... Mr. Lenny. I told you so.”
I give her a side glance.
She shrugs.
“For someone doing such a great job picking editorial pieces for my website, you’re missing the mark when it comes to men,” I say.
She gives me a girlish smile.
“It was not meant to be,” she says, amused.
She can say that twice. Why would it take her so long to realize? If I know anything about her is that she is a free spirit, brimming with life, unable to fit in a box, let alone a small one, and he just killed her with his insecurities.
Shifting my eyes away from her, I pick another hanger.
“Okay...” I murmur, my eyes roaming over the studded dress. “So why are you so obsessed with Jaden?” I ask, tossing her another glance.
She does that weight shifting from one foot to the other, and suddenly, I sense a headache growing.
“He is so fucking hot,” she says, elated.
Her eyes gleam as if charged with electricity.
I study her, baffled. I don’t recall setting them up, having a conference call or video chats. Where did she see him?
Have they exchanged pictures by any chance?
“Hmm... How do you know he’s hot? ”I ask, morbidly suspicious.
A naughty smile brushes her eyes. That can’t be good.
I freeze, waiting for her answer, a dress in one hand, a hanger in the other.
She leans to me and whispers conspiratorially.
“I found his page.”
“What page?”
She bites her lip and rubs her nose, a naughty smile scrunching it up.
“He has this little site...”
“What site?” I wheeze.