•BRIANNA•
After trying on what felt like a thousand dresses (okay, it was only about fifteen), I finally emerged from the dressing room with a scowl plastered on my face. Mr. Adrian had rejected them all—too revealing, too concealing, too short, too long—nothing was right. My body was starting to feel like it had been through some bizarre workout, with me constantly slipping in and out of dresses to no avail.
The dress I had on now was a red velvet fishtail gown with thin straps. The bodice was black, featuring a sweetheart neckline adorned with pearls. It was a little more revealing than I’d usually go for, but I didn’t mind. Paired with black satin gloves that reached just past my elbows and a snow-white fur shawl, I felt like a glamorous snow queen.
Isabella looked me over, her smile wide and approving. “This dress suits you perfectly,” she said, her tone light and full of admiration. “It’s not too revealing, not too concealing, and it brings out your curves in all the right places.”
I glanced at her. “I love it, too, but we need to show it to your cousin before we decide.”
She nodded, and we walked out of the room together. Mr. Adrian, who had been absorbed in a magazine earlier, was now glued to his phone.
“Check this one out, Mr. Adrian,” I called out, my voice a little louder than necessary to pull him away from whatever was so captivating on his screen.
He finally looked up, and for a fleeting moment, I saw approval—and maybe even a hint of awe—flash across his face. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a blank, unreadable expression.