I walk slowly, eyeing each dress carefully, touching the soft, silky fabrics that cling to the mannequins. I wonder what these dresses would look like on me.
“Can I help you, miss?” I jump at the sound and turn to find a slim woman in a tight-fitting black dress standing in front of me. She has a small round face and long golden hair that cascades over her shoulders.
“Umm, no thank you, I’m just looking.”
“Okay, well, let me know if you need anything, anything at all.” She looks me up and down and fakes a smile.
“I will, thanks.”
She lingers for a few moments still looking me up and down, before she finally turns on her heel walks away, she sneaks a glance at me over her shoulder disapprovingly, sneering in disgust.
Bitch.
I roll my eyes and carry on admiring the dresses on display until I reach the back of the store, the entire back wall is mirrored, floor to ceiling. Looking into the mirror, I self-consciously adjust my dress, just being here makes me feel uneasy.
I can see the woman in the reflection of the mirror over my left shoulder, her arms folded across her chest, shaking her head, as if someone like me is beneath her, that I don’t belong in this world, that I don’t fit in.
Maybe she’s right.
A customer must call her as she moves over to assist them, taking one last disapproving look at me. I watch her leave in the reflection of the mirror, rolling my eyes.
Before I have chance to look away, someone catches my eye, a man, standing in a group of four others just outside the shop, a man who’s looking directly at me. From what I can see from this distance, he’s handsome, about mid-to-late twenties, he has short dark wavy hair, cropped closely at the sides and much thicker on the top, just the right length to allow a girl to run her fingers through.
I force my eyes away from the man, shaking my head, acutely aware that I'm staring. I smile at my embarrassment and continue browsing. I steal a glance at the man every now and again through the rows of beautiful dresses, his gaze still lingering on me, his head tilted slightly in curiosity.
My heart jumps.
Why the hell is someone like him looking at me?
I tear my gaze away from him before coming to a stop in front of a floor-length emerald green dress with beautiful lace detailing all over. It has thin shoulder straps with a long slit running up the left side. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. I turn over the price tag and I almost choke when I see how much it costs. $6500!
Jesus Christ.
Who in their right mind would pay that much for a dress?
I take it off the rail and walk over to the wall of mirrors. I hold the dress up to my body and put my head through the hanger so that the dress hangs down my front. I touch the material, smoothing it down, imagining how it would look on me. I can dream right?
I’m so captivated by the dress that I don't pay much attention to the sound of the door opening and closing, or the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer to me until I feel a strange tingle running down my spine, that feeling that someone is watching you.
“You should try it on.” A deep, gravelly voice from behind startles me.
I look up into the mirror over my shoulder to find the man from earlier, standing directly behind me, gazing at me with the sexiest smile I've ever seen.
I turn to face him, clumsily pulling the hanger back over my head, displacing my hair which has now fallen over most of my face.
Smooth Hayley, real smooth.
The man chuckles and steps toward me. He brushes my hair away from my face and tucks it neatly behind my ear. His simple, light touch sends shivers rolling down my spine.
I sheepishly look up to his face as he towers over me, he must be at least 6’2”. He's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. His piercing blue eyes have a sharpness that makes me feel like he is staring deep into my soul. His full, kissable lips make my knees weak, and a light dusting of stubble covers his jaw that could easily cut through marble. From what I can tell, under his tailor fitted suit, is a strong, lean, muscular body, his biceps standing out slightly under his jacket, my gaze sweeps over the beautiful man, slowly.
I chance another look up at his face, he is watching me intently with the hint of a smirk which tells me he has caught me checking him out. I open my mouth to speak, but I seem to have forgotten how to talk.
“You should really try it on,” he repeats, motioning to the dress in my hands. “I bet anything it would look beautiful on you.”
“I... um. There… there wouldn't be any point,” is all I can manage to squeak out awkwardly.
What is wrong with me? Why am I reacting like this? I’ve never had any problem talking to anyone in my life but standing here in front of the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on, my brain has turned to mush.
“Why not?” he asks curiously, his brows knitting in question.
“Because… looking at how much it costs, it would take me like, a whole year before I could even afford it. Besides, I don't go anywhere that would justify owning a dress like this.”
It's getting so hot in here. I'm burning up, my cheeks feel like they are on fire. I slowly back away from him and return the dress to the rail just behind me.
“Let me buy it for you,” he offers.
“I... excuse me?”
What? Is he for real?
“Let me buy it for you.”
“Why the hell
