Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 89142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Mom nods. “Yes, I can see how that would be beautiful.”
“How many guests do you plan to invite?” I ask.
“Probably only about fifty or sixty,” Mandy says. “Just family, close friends, a few work associates.”
“You really just want one attendant each?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Jackson nods.
“Okay. What kind of wedding dress?” Mom takes a bite of her roll.
“Something simple. Mom, can you take me shopping this weekend?”
“Of course, dear.” Mom glances at me.
Please, please, please don’t suggest that I come along.
“Are you busy, Frankie?”
I put on my happy face. “No. I’m happy to go.”
“It’s okay.” Mandy comes to my rescue. “Mom and I can handle it.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Absolutely. What kind of dress would you like to wear as maid of honor?”
“Whatever you choose will be fine,” I say.
“I want you to have a dress you like,” Mandy says. “One you can wear again.”
“Please. You just pick it.”
“Francesca,” Mom says. “You should come with us. Help choose your own dress. If you don’t want to help Mandy pick out hers—”
“That’s not what I said. I’m happy to help Mandy pick out a dress. And if it means that much to all of you, I’ll choose my own dress.”
“Well, the decision ultimately rests with Mandy,” Mom says.
Dear Lord, get me out of here without pulling all the strands of my hair out one by one. “I know that. That’s why I said whatever she picks will be fine.”
Mandy shakes her head. “I seem to be doing everything wrong. I haven’t been thinking about anyone but myself, and I apologize. There’s no excuse for it.”
And now I feel like shit again.
This is my sister. My older sister, Amanda, who’s been in my shadow her whole life.
And now, I’m in her shadow.
You know what? It fucking sucks.
Is this how she’s felt her whole life? And she being the older sister and all.
I’ve got to get over myself. I draw in a deep breath.
“Mandy,” I say. “I am so, so happy for you. You too, Jack. The two of you belong together. You always have. I’m not sure why I never saw it before. You just shine when you’re together. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams. If that means you want me to help choose your dress, I will be there for you. After all, you were there for me.”
“Thanks, Frankie.” Mandy smiles. “We’ll find the perfect dress for both of us.”
…
The next morning, Saturday, after doing some online research for my article, I go shopping.
Alone.
I’m not supposed to meet Mom and Mandy at Macy’s until two o’clock, and I want to find an outfit for tonight.
I’m meeting Phantom again.
He really liked the blue mask and silk dress that I wore to the masquerade.
But I want to look sexy tonight.
Little-black-dress sexy.
The only problem? All the little black dresses I own, I wore for Penn. They feel…not tainted so much as…
I just want something special for Phantom. Something I’ve never worn for anyone else.
I head into Treasure’s Chest, a lingerie store that also sells sexy garments and…other things. Things that may aid in the research for my article.
“Hello there,” a young woman with auburn hair says. “Can I help you find anything?”
“Yes, actually. I want a sexy black dress. I have a date tonight.”
She smiles. “You’ve certainly come to the right place. We have some gorgeous evening wear. Let me show you.”
Mary—her name tag reads—leads me toward the right side of the store. I wouldn’t exactly call these dresses evening wear. None of them are long or cocktail length. All the dresses are short, and many are quite revealing.
I zero in on a simple black sheath with black sequins around the low neckline.
“See anything you like?” Mary asks.
“This one.” I finger the stretchy fabric.
“Yes, that one is gorgeous. What size are you?”
“I’m an eight.”
“Then I’d recommend medium.”
“Medium?”
“Yes. All of our dresses come in small, medium, large, and extra-large. Some come in extra small as well. Because all of the fabric is stretchy, these sizes can accommodate most figures.” She glances over me. “I have a really good eye. I’d say you’re definitely a medium.” She pulls a dress off the rack. “Would you like to try it on?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
She leads me to the back of the store—and through aisles devoted to corsets, bustiers, stockings, and then leather attire. And…
Toys. Handcuffs. Ropes. Chains. Whips.
My skin tightens.
Then I notice a sign. It’s small with black lettering, but it flashes at me as if it’s neon.
Classes available.
“What kind of classes do you offer here?” I ask.
“Just some introductory classes to alternative sexual lifestyles.”
“Really? You mean like BDSM?”
“Yes. We have classes in domination, submission, and bondage.”
I inhale, gathering courage. “I might be interested in one of those.”
“If you spend more than four hundred dollars, you get our introductory class free.”
I haven’t even looked at the price tag on the dress. This isn’t a good habit I’ve gotten into. “How much will I spend if I purchase the dress?”