“Green, beige, teal, blue,” I answered automatically. Oh crap, now she would want to sell me something.
“Oh, I must show you our Oceane collection. Colors of the ocean. Blue, teal, emerald. They’d be lovely on you. We just got in some beautiful satin nightgowns.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me. “I can’t wait for you to see them.”
I had no choice but to follow her until we came to a display on the other side of the store. The collection was indeed lovely, and instead of skimpy bras and panties, these were long gowns, very pretty.
“Look,” she said, holding up a bright-green gown. “This nearly matches the color of your eyes. And with that beautiful blond hair of yours—goodness, you’ll be gorgeous.”
I sighed. The gown was stunning. It was simple, spaghetti straps and a sheath style, cinched in slightly at the waist and then fanning out over the butt and into a skirt that hit halfway down the calf.
“What’s your size, hon?” she asked.
Hon? She had to be half my age.
“Medium, usually. Sometimes a large.”
She looked me up and down. “Let’s try a medium. You’re not too busty.”
Sure, rub it in.
She grabbed the medium and handed it to me. “Dressing rooms are over there.” She pointed. “Please, try it on.”
What the heck? After all, I had come back to the shop. I ambled into the dressing room and shed all my clothing down to my panties. I put the beautiful gown over my head and let it fall onto my body.
I gasped when I looked in the mirror.
The gown was made for me. It accentuated every part of my body, gave me curves where I had none—a swell of my breasts, a tiny swell of my belly, swell of my hips. And then the silk fell around and softly over my knees.
Wow. I looked hot. I laughed out loud. When was the last time I’d thought I looked hot? Probably around the fifth of never. I knew I was pretty enough, and I had a decent enough body. There just wasn’t anything extraordinary about me whatsoever. Definitely not hot.
This gown made me hot.
I made a decision then. I would buy it. I might never wear it, but I hardly ever indulged in anything purely frivolous. Maybe Jonah would like it.
The thought made me turn red. I quickly looked away from the mirror and changed back into my clothes.
I hurried toward the register before I changed my mind. Then I saw the price tag poking out of the fabric. I hadn’t bothered to check the cost, so I pulled the tag toward me now.
Six hundred and seventy-five dollars?
I threw the gown on the nearest shelf and hurried out of the store.
I didn’t have a session until eleven, so I headed over to the coffee shop next to my office with my laptop to check e-mails, quickly texting Randi to let her know where I’d be. I ordered a vanilla latte and then sat down and opened my computer. I was midway through my e-mails when a masculine voice startled me.
“Melanie? Melanie Carmichael?”
I looked up, and in the doorway to the coffee shop stood… I did a double take.
“Oliver?”
The auburn-haired man smiled. “Yeah, wow. How long has it been?”
“Since med school,” I said.
“Melanie!” the barista called.
I stood.
“I’ll grab that for you.” Oliver took my latte from the barista and handed it to me. “Mind if I join you for a few minutes?”
“Not at all. You want to get a coffee?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Kind of why I’m here, I guess. Sorry, seeing you kind of derailed me for a minute.” He walked over to the line where a few people stood already.
I stared at my laptop screen and caught my breath. Oliver Nichols. Wow. I hadn’t seen him in over a decade. We’d gone to med school together, and right after graduation, we had a little one-nighter. Then he went off to California for his internship and residency, and I came here to Grand Junction to do mine.
I warmed from my head to my toes. He was so gorgeous, no silver yet in his auburn hair. He still had those twinkling blue eyes. He had been the best-looking male student in our class. Also had the best personality. Always jovial, always smiling. I had never thought he would look my way, but after a few drinks in the hot tub at a friend’s graduation party, things had gotten…friendly.
I pretended to go through e-mails, but I couldn’t concentrate. I could feel his gaze upon me. We’d never vowed to stay in touch or anything. After all, he went to California and I stayed here. I had looked him up on the Internet from time to time. He specialized in pediatric nephrology and had ended up doing several fellowships. With all that education, he hadn’t been in practice very long at this point.
He had also authored several very well-respected papers. Of course nothing I would read, since I knew absolutely nothing about pediatric nephrology beyond the basic anatomy.