Determined

Part 4

Who was this guy? How did he find the same dress, let alone know my size? And in only a couple of hours? I re-read the card. Heartfelt? Was he embarrassed by his girlfriend, or ...? I glanced back down at the dress, pleased. I did really like that dress. Then I remembered the other box and pulled it over. It was heavy. I used my key to cut the tape, and inside was a second box, dark grey. I opened it and a heady scent flooded my studio. Dozens of white roses. Three dozen, to be exact. And a beautiful crystal vase. 

I took the vase to the sink and filled it with water and then grabbed some scissors and cut the ends of the stems to fit the vase. I spent a few moments arranging them. Gorgeous. I put the bouquet in the middle of my small table and stepped back to admire them. Elegant. I went back to the box in search of a card, but there was nothing.

What the hell does that mean?

I glanced at the clock. Shit. It was later than I thought. My best friend—and ride tonight—was going to be by soon, and I needed to get ready.

I turned on the shower, and while it warmed up I brushed the knots out of my hair. In the shower I went to town—shaving my legs, deep conditioning my hair, and slicking body oil over everything after I toweled off. It felt good ... purifying. I was finally refreshed and ready to psych myself up for a fun night

I pulled on the sweater dress and my black boots and returned to the bathroom to blow-dry my hair into a sleek style. At the mirror, I pulled out a box full of makeup. I don't normally wear much—usually just tinted moisturizer and pinkish lip-gloss. But tonight I was feeling brave and a little bold. Maybe it was the hormone hangover from last night. I got close to the mirror and rimmed my eyes with dark kohl and laced my lashes with two coats of black mascara. I leaned back, checking my work. Not bad. Looking sharp, Sharp!

1H

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