Chapter Seven
“I’m so screwed, Hannah,” Laura said, staring at outfit option number 1,453 she’d tried on tonight. It had been a tough few days, but she’d done what Roberta had said and gone to the bank and made a small withdrawal from the Baughman Home Goods account. Problem was, she still couldn’t find anyone local, or even close to local, to buy her flowers wholesale from. And Hannah’s order was due soon.
“I thought the point was to dress so that you can literally get screwed . . . in that case, I’d go for the last dress with more cleavage,” Hannah said.
Hannah sat on her bed blowing bubbles with her gum and giving her a world-class critique while Laura tried on Hannah’s entire closet. Just like they’d done a thousand times back in the day.
“I’m not trying to screw Gabe. And this isn’t a date. I need something modest. And all of your clothes are . . .”
Laura tugged on the low-cut neckline of Hannah’s green dress.
“Slutty?”
“No!” Laura said. “You just have a different style than I do.”
“Yeah, no shit. You dress business casual for Friday night at the local bar.”
“Which is why I’m here raiding your closet, thank you very much.”
Hannah nodded and came up behind Laura and looked in the mirror over her shoulder. “You look hot. You just need to do whatever feels comfortable.”
Laura tugged on the dress to try to cover a bit more leg. The bodice was tight, but the skirt flared just enough to give a casual summer feel. Paired with a denim jacket, it was cute for a simple nondate. But it was just a bit short. Laura tugged on the hem again.
“Seriously?” Hannah said. “I’m five three and you’re seven three. All my dresses are going to be short on you.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Thanks a lot.”
“Well, it would help if you quit trying to dress for the wrong guy.”
“I’m not dating Jake. I’m going to dinner with Gabe, which isn’t a date, either,” Laura replied quickly.
“I was talking about Gabe. He’s the wrong guy.”
Laura spun and frowned. “No, Jake is the wrong guy. Gabe is great—”
“On paper. Fits you like a perfect cliché in a Sandra Bullock movie. He’s the quarterback, you’re the prom queen, and the two of you can run off into the sunset and have two point four kids and a white picket fence.”
“And that’s the wrong guy?” Laura asked.
“Yeah, because you would have taken that option by now if he wasn’t.”
Hannah had a point. She could have dated Gabe in high school. Taken his letterman jacket and class ring and gone down the simple, steady path that was outlined for her. But she hadn’t been interested then. Because she’d wanted out. Wanted an adventure. Wanted to escape. She hadn’t wanted to deal with her mother’s death or even acknowledge her own mortality. Which was why she’d made the decisions she had. The wrong decisions.
“Instead I wasted my twenties on an asshole and wound up a divorcée at nearly thirty and living in my dad’s camper.”
“Hey, at least you go for what you want. You’re ambitious. That’s what I love most about you. Sure, you’ve made some bad picks, but who hasn’t? The NFL draft has you beat by far in picking the wrong guys.”
She smiled at her friend. Hannah had a way of making her feel better, and yet, Laura still felt like she wasn’t quite there. She was trying. But no answers seemed clear.
“Well, the men don’t matter. What does is flowers,” Laura said.
“Wait, we’re going to talk about the shop now and you’re not going to tell me all the juicy details on how you got screwed against a truck by a hot guy?”
“I’m really regretting telling you even that little detail,” Laura mumbled.
“So it’s little, huh?”
“No, he’s huge!” Laura slapped a palm over her mouth, and Hannah laughed.