A Midsummer's Nightmare(21)

Lexie was one of those overwhelmingly pretty people. Not beautiful, but pretty. Stick thin. Black hair cut just below her chin. And she walked like a Victoria’s Secret model, strutting down the runway. I couldn’t help admiring her as she led me to the back room of the shop. This chick had it going on.

“Step in here,” she said, gesturing to a dressing room hidden behind a white curtain.

“Why?” I asked. “I thought we were just doing measurements.”

“We are,” Lexie replied, picking up a strip of measuring tape from a nearby table. “But this is a form-fitting dress, and to get an accurate measurement, I’ll need you to strip down to your underwear. Unless you’re cool with everyone seeing,” she added, gesturing to the door as Sherri, Sylvia, and Bailey entered behind us.

I groaned and walked into the dressing room, Lexie on my heels.

Not that I had a problem with my body—for the most part, I didn’t—but these were the last people I would want to see me in my purple bra and thong. They’d probably be scandalized by all that (currently sunburned) skin.

Though I really didn’t want Sexy Lexie to see me practically naked, either. I could feel her eyes on my flat butt, my less-flat stomach. The smug expression on her face when I pulled off my T-shirt told me exactly what she was thinking:

I’m hotter than this chick.

Or maybe she was inwardly laughing at the blistering sunburn that covered the back side of my body. That was possible, too.

“Arms up,” she said, unwinding the measuring tape.

I raised my arms above my head and winced as she wrapped the measuring tape around my chest, the edge of the strip cutting painfully into my inflamed skin.

“Might try a higher SPF next time,” Lexie commented, moving the strip down to my midsection, not bothering to be any gentler, despite having noticed the burn.

“Yeah, thanks,” I muttered. “I appreciate the advice. Because I had no idea what had gone wrong.”

Outside the curtain, I could hear Sherri saying, “You know, Sylvia, you didn’t have to take off work today. I could have brought the girls here on my own.”

“I know,” Sylvia replied. “But I wanted to spend a little time with Whitley. We barely know each other, and moments like this are a good way to bond.” Even though she lowered her voice to a near whisper, I could still hear her add, “I just don’t want her to hate me like I hated Alice, you know? I remember what it’s like to have a crappy stepmom. I don’t want her to go through that.”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry.” Sherri laughed. “I don’t think anyone could ever be as bad as Alice. Whitley will love you. Just give her some time.”

Sylvia sighed. “God, I hope so.”

“All done,” Lexie said from behind me, her voice loud enough in my ear to make me jump. “You can put your clothes back on now.”

“Great.”

She slipped out through the curtain and told Sylvia she’d save the measurements in her file. The dresses would be ready in a few weeks.

After putting my cutoff shorts and T-shirt back on, I met the others in the main room of the boutique. Sylvia smiled at me. “You’ll look so beautiful in the dress. I can’t wait to see it on you.”

I shrugged, then hesitated. I hated that Sylvia had changed my father. I hated that she was so freakishly happy when I wasn’t. But as much as I wanted to spite her, to make her as miserable as I was, knowing that she was trying so hard made me feel just a little guilty.

I cleared my throat. “I mean… thank you.”

A few minutes later, on our way out to the car, while Bailey babbled to Sherri about some new movie she wanted to see, I heard someone calling my name from across the parking lot. I turned and saw Harrison hurrying toward me, dressed in neat jeans and an emerald green polo that made his eyes pop—even from this distance.

God, he was gorgeous. The female population was seriously missing out.

“Hey, girl,” he said when he caught up to me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Beside me, Sylvia cleared her throat. Sherri and Bailey were already in Sherri’s car (Bailey was going to spend the rest of the afternoon at her aunt’s), but Sylvia had hung back, waiting to see who I was talking to, I guess. Nosy much?

I rolled my eyes. “Sylvia, this is Harrison. Harrison, this is Sylvia—Nathan’s mom.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand. “You’re Greg’s fiancée, right? You’re a lucky woman.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I think so, too. And I’m glad to see Whitley is making friends here in Hamilton.” She squeezed my shoulder and I cringed. “Oh! Sunburn—I forgot. Sorry. Well, I’ll leave you two alone. It was nice meeting you, Harrison.”

When she was across the parking lot and in the front seat of her Prius, Harrison said, “She seems nice.”

“I guess. So, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I work here.”

“Here? At Gwyneth’s?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was a summer job turned all-year job once I decided to take the year off.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“It’s nice—good experience for a fashion major and all that jazz.” He sighed. “I just prefer men’s clothing. You can only look at so many dresses a day, you know?”