Page 85 of Bound By Fire
“I brought it in case the dress needed a little something. It’s costume jewelry. It looks more expensive than it was. And the hospital paid for it, which is an added bonus.” She fastens it around my neck. The pendant hangs right in the dip between my collarbones, drawing the eye up to my face. “I have killer silver heels for you, as well. They’re not so high that you’ll fall on your face, but high enough to draw the eye. You look sexy and sophisticated.”
I look at myself in the mirror.
It’s a beautiful necklace. It does help. It also does absolutely nothing to mute the cleavage situation.
“It still shows too much.”
“Nonsense.” Carla makes a brushing motion with her hand. “You have great breasts. You are well covered. Look at you. The dress is full-length. It doesn’t cling. Your arms are out, your collarbones are out, you have a tasteful, very pretty necklace. Sure, there’s some cleavage on display. Most women would die for your breasts. You’re just not used to wearing something like this…that’s all.”
“This is as on display as it gets, Carla.” I gesture at my chest again. “This is the very definition of on display.”
“You should show them off more often.” She catches my eye in the mirror. “It’s tasteful and elegant and, yes, super sexy, but you need to live a little. This dress is exactly right for a fundraiser where you are the woman raising the money and giving the speech. They need to see you in something that says you mean business, and you don’t mind being looked at while you do it. You look amazing.”
“I’m not going to be comfortable in this. I want to get something else. I’ll go shopping?—”
“No.”
“Carla—”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I am not letting you turn up in something black and shapeless because you want to hide. You are beautiful. You rock that dress. I really want you to wear it. I want you to trust me on this. I’m good with this kind of thing.”
It’s true. She is. Still.
“I’m not so sure about this.”
“Well, good thing I’m sure enough for the both of us.” She squeezes my shoulders. “You look amazing. You are going to be great.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll trust you.”
“Good!” She claps her hands. “You won’t regret it. You’ll see. I sent you a draft of the speech,” she tells me.
“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. I’ll take a look when I get home.”
“I still think you should say something from the heart.”
She gives my shoulders one last squeeze and lets go. I look in the mirror and struggle to recognize myself.
Maybe I should tell them I’m sick. I would rather walk barefoot across hot coals than go to this thing tomorrow night with Ridge.
No. I can’t do that.
I’m not that person. I need to suck it up and get it done.
Argh.
This is officially my worst nightmare.
