Free Darker Water by Lauren Stewart Page A

finally wised up, I didn’t want to
look sexy—I was purposefully trying not to attract anyone.
And every outfit reminded me of a man. It was actually pathetic—I
could remember when and with whom I wore every attractive outfit I
had.
    They were souvenirs of the delusion I’d lived
with since I agreed to go to junior prom with Michael Buckley and
he celebrated by sticking his tongue in my mouth. Worst kisser
ever, although I didn’t know that at the time because he was my
first. My first everything—kiss, love, lover. Worst everything ever, actually. For his sake, I hope he’s gotten
better.
    Tonight was special, though. I didn’t need to
look sexy but jeans weren’t going to cut it. There would be
potential clients for my business and, more importantly, for my
art. I needed to go shopping.
     
     
    Carson called just as I got to the department
store. “What are you doing?”
    “Shopping for a dress I can’t afford. What
are you doing?”
    “Leaving work. Are you almost done buying a
dress you can’t afford? I thought we could have a drink before you
drag me to this horrible thing tonight.”
    I heard the smile in his voice. Doing what he
did and being who he was, Carson probably went to this kind of
thing all the time. Then his offer sunk in—he’d just asked me to
have a drink a few hours before an event it would take me hours to
get ready for.
    “Oh my god, it’s true—you’ve never gone out on a date, have you?”
    “What’d I miss?”
    “I’m a woman.” I pulled dresses off the
racks, cringing every time I saw a price tag. So I stopped looking
at them—they were all more than I could afford. Hopefully I
wouldn’t discover I could buy the dress I wanted or pay my rent,
but couldn’t do both. “I have two hours to find a dress, go home,
shower, do my hair and makeup, and get to the gallery. Yet the guy
I’m not dating is asking me to meet him for a drink.”
    “And he still doesn’t know why you
can’t.”
    “Because I’ve already been to two stores and
haven’t found a single dress I like. If Nordstrom doesn’t have
anything, I’ll probably have to go in the dress I wore to my high
school prom.”
    “Dear god, I hope you’re kidding. Just pick
one. You’ll look good in whatever it is. Except your prom dress.
Don’t do that to me…unless you went to the prom in a cheerleading
uniform.”
    I held the phone between my shoulder and my
ear as the stack of dresses grew. “This is important, Carson. I
can’t go there looking like crap.” A saleswoman took pity on me and
brought the stack to a dressing room.
    “You won’t look like crap. You’ll look great.
I’ll make sure of it. See you soon.” He hung up before I could ask
him what he meant. I jogged after the big pile of options, crossing
my fingers that one of them would work.
    Ten dresses—mostly black, in two different
sizes—and I still had nothing. How could I possibly be the only
woman in the world to have boobs and a butt? Evidently, I was only
allowed to have one or the other. Just as I slipped dress number
eleven, i.e. the last one, over my head, a long royal blue dress
came sailing over the top of the dressing room door.
    “Try this one.” It was a man’s voice, not the
saleswoman’s.
    “Carson?”
    “Hurry up and try it on. I only have two
hours to go home, get dressed, do my hair, and meet the woman I’m
not dating for a drink I’m not going to drink.”
    I felt the fabric of the dress he’d picked
out and immediately knew it was out of my price range. Then I
looked at myself in the mirror. The dress I already had on was
perfect…for someone else. On me, it gaped near the arms and pulled
across my chest.
    “Hurry up,” he called.
    I took the last failure off and slipped on
the dress Carson had tossed me. It was perfect. For me.
    When I opened the door, he let out his
breath. “You look…the complete opposite of crap.”
    “Thank you.” That was probably as close to a
compliment as I was going to