Page 53 of Sing Your Secrets
fifteen
Reese
“Are you going for sexy or slutty?” Quinn asks holding up two different pairs of black shoes in her massive, luxury closet.
Teetering my head back and forth, I debate my answer. “A healthy combination of the two.”
She hands me the shoes with a shorter heel. “These,” she says, eyeing me up and down, examining my admittedly revealing, little black dress. “Your dress is way too short for anything higher. We don’t want him trying to leave money on the nightstand or anything.”
“Hardi-har-har.” Grabbing the heels by the black straps, I check the label. Of course, they’re Jimmy Choo. “Hey, do you have anything that isn’t designer?”
Quinn’s expression flattens as she lets out an exasperated breath. “Well…don’t make me say it.”
“I’m not calling you out,” I quickly reply. Quinn is a little sensitive people think she’s a spoiled heiress. First of all, she hasn’t seen a dime of her pending fortune yet. Second of all, she’s the hardest worker I know. Wealth is an uncomfortable subject when people judge you for it. “I just mean that Miles is a little money wary. I think he’s insecure about what he can’t afford. I don’t want him to think I’m hard up for brands or anything.”
“Hard up?” Quinn scrunches her face at me. “You’re such a dude.” I shrug innocently and flash her a wide grin. “But that is seriously so sweet. I am…am…”
I blink at her, waiting for the word that’s on the tip of her tongue.
“Impressed,” Quinn emphasizes. “I’m really impressed with you.”
“For what?” I run my hands through my hair, which feels foreign. I brushed it out tonight, used a blow dryer to straighten my curls, and used a curling iron to shape loose waves. No longer in ringlets, my hair falls past my rib cage.
Quinn pats the purple velvet ottoman in the center of her closet, telling me to take a seat. “Oh, goodie,” I grumble. “A Quinn lecture.”
“You know it,” she says as she shuffles through her racks of clothes, organized by brand, color, and material. I love this closet, but it’s a little American Psycho up in here. “When a man disrespects you and wrecks your confidence, it usually casts a shadow over your next relationship.”
“I’ve had plenty of guys since Petey,” I interject.
Quinn gives me a darting look over her shoulder. “You’ve had plenty of sex since Petey.”
“Your point?”
“My point is, I’m impressed you aren’t punishing Miles for Petey’s mistakes. It says a lot about your character. I really hope this guy works outs, Reese. I really do. You’ve paid more than your fair share when it comes to heartbreak. You deserve a good guy.”
I scrunch my nose. “Thanks.”
“That being said…” She returns to me with a long olive green cardigan and knee-high suede black boots. “Don’t go on your first date and have him spend all night stressing about guys making gross passes at you. The kind of guy you’re going to attract in this dress will make Miles want to fight them.”
“Fair enough.” I take the cardigan and push my arms through the sleeves. It falls at least two inches below the hem of my dress. I yank on the tall boots, covering my exposed calves and knees. Spinning around in place, I ask her, “Better?”
“Just different,” she says. “In a good way. My diamond hoops would pair perfectly, but…” she trails off as I shake my head. “Yeah, if Jimmy Choos are off the table, so are four-thousand-dollar diamond earrings.”
“Right.”
“What time do you have to go?”
“Soon. I’m actually heading over to the Estates at Ventally.”
“Miles lives in the same luxury private community as my dad?” Quinn’s brows arch in surprise. “And you’re worried about diamond earrings?”
“He lives with his cousin, who has money, apparently.”
“Why isn’t Miles coming to pick you up?”
“He called to tell me his vision was a little blurry today and he almost swerved into the curb. He might need glasses and didn’t want to risk driving until he figured it out.”
“Hm. Hope he’s okay.”