ONE HOUR LATER, the dressing room of the department store looked more like Nichole’s chaotic closet, making her reconsider not having joined the boys for their version of fun instead. Nichole slipped on a blazer and stepped out to face Josie and Brooke.
Brooke tapped her chin. “It’s better.”
Nichole tugged on the sleeves. “They’re too short.” Like the dress before. And the slacks before that.
Josie moved to Nichole’s side and rolled the sleeves in neat folds toward her elbows. She ran her fingers over the exposed silk inner lining. “Now it’s functional and fun.”
Nichole turned toward the mirror. Her leggings and sweatshirt had been replaced by a black pencil skirt, tailored blouse and blazer. The red pin-striped lining offered a fresh break in an otherwise conservative outfit. Nichole looked like an executive. Sweat beaded against her lower back.
Looking and being were not nearly the same thing. She was supposed to take charge at her meeting. Seasoned leaders delegated. Inspired. And had grit.
Nichole’s grit was more like the pebbles in Wesley’s fish tank: slippery and easy to rinse down the drain. “This blazer will be too hot.”
“Not likely in this weather.” Brooke rubbed her hands together as if feeling chilled.
“You could remove it at dinner.” Josie unbuttoned the blazer and adjusted Nichole’s blouse. “That’s the advantage of layers.”
“I sweat when I get nervous. It’s not a good look for a silk blouse.” Which was why Nichole preferred to layer moisture-wicking sportswear. She fiddled with a button on the blazer. “I passed out before my graduation speech.”
Brooke grimaced from one of the chairs. “Those gowns and stage lights are really hot.”
“I was backstage. Sitting down.” Nichole shook her head. She’d frozen and panicked on the theater stage once too and disappointed her mother, the choreographer of the show, and her father, the director of the entire production. Nichole had moved in with her grandparents the following week, permanently. True, she’d only been six at the time. Still, Nichole had avoided the spotlight ever since. She’d always lacked her mother’s grace and poise and hadn’t inherited her father’s charisma. “Who passes out sitting down?”
Brooke and Josie exchanged a look.
“Then I introduced myself as Michole Hoore to the entire graduating class, their families and friends. Not Nichole Moore.” Nichole slapped her hands over her hot cheeks. “Who does that?”
“Be serious,” Brooke said.
“I am.” Nichole pressed her palms against her skin, pushing the old mortification back inside her.
Why had she ever believed she could negotiate the sale of her computer program to a pair of savvy business investors? She should’ve learned her lesson two years ago at that fiasco of a sales pitch. Of course, back then In A Pinch had only been an idea. Regardless, she’d failed to get the investors to see her vision. To believe in her. Now she had an actual program, built and functioning. What if they still couldn’t believe in her? She’d have to tell Wesley and her grandparents she’d failed.
“I’m a train wreck around strangers.” Nichole sighed into her hands. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can do this.” Brooke wrapped her arm around Nichole’s shoulder. “We just need to find you some reinforcement.”
“Like a bodyguard. To protect me from myself,” Nichole said.
Brooke met Nichole’s gaze in the mirror, her voice serious. “Or even better, a personal negotiator.”
“That could work. Just like this.” Josie lifted up a fitted dress and pressed it into Nichole’s hands. “We saved the best for last.”
“It’s red.” Chili-pepper red. Nichole avoided spicy food. It made her face crimson and her stomach hurt.
“It’s bold,” Josie countered.
“Confident,” Brooke added.
“Everything I’m—”
Brooke cut her off. “Everything you’re going to be. You’re going to make those investors pay double for your program. Use the extra money to pay off your grandparents’ mortgage fund, Wesley’s college account and take us all on an exotic vacation.”
“That’s an excellent plan,” Josie said. “No one ever takes enough vacations.”
“There’s only one problem.” Nichole removed the blazer and revealed the twin sweat marks on the lovely blouse. “I’m panicked right now. With you guys! What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“We already told you.” Brooke pushed Nichole toward the dressing room. “You try the dress on, and we’ll find you a personal negotiator.”
“It’s sleeveless.” Josie called out. “No embarrassing sweat marks. Oh, and I also found the perfect overcoat.”
Nichole sighed. “We aren’t leaving until I try this on, are we?”
Josie and Brooke laughed.
Nichole took the dress and stepped inside the dressing room. Meanwhile, Brooke and Josie tossed out names of friends for Nichole’s personal negotiator like pennies in a wishing well.
She hung the skirt, blouse and blazer back on the hangers, then sank onto the small bench. Her head dropped between her knees. A position she’d found herself in more than once growing up. Every time she’d been forced to step onto a stage for a holiday show in elementary school or a choir performance in middle school. Finally, in high school, she’d learned to raise her hand first to make her presentation to her class and then she’d excuse herself to the bathroom, until the urge to faint had passed.
The only time she’d truly fainted had been before her valedictorian speech. She’d opened her eyes to find herself cradled in the arms of the one person she’d never known to be intimidated by anything: Chase Jacobs. She’d been his tutor throughout high school. He’d been her...
Nichole shoved off the bench and reached for the dress. She was an adult. A single mother and hard worker. This wasn’t high school. This was her life. Chase Jacobs was a successful professional football player. He’d accomplished his dreams, despite the obstacles. Surely, Nichole could do the same.
She slipped on the dress, maneuvered until she reached the zipper on the back, then zipped her long hair inside the teeth. Her head tweaked backward at an uncomfortable angle, Nichole shuffled out of the dressing room. “This is why I like wearable workout clothes.”
“But life is more than a workout.” Brooke freed Nichole’s hair and directed her toward the
