Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

I sit opposite him, watching as he lifts his head, his murky-gray eyes connecting with mine.

“My head hurts.”

I chuckle as he picks up his fork, his movements slow. “That’s what happens when you drink enough for ten people.”

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I focus back on Charlotte. “What can I do for you then?”

“I erm, I…” I roll my eyes at my stuttered reply. “I wanted to ask for your help.”

Tilting her head to the side, her bobbed hair sways with the movement. “Okay.”

I wrap my arms around my waist, shuffling on the spot as I look around the room, trying to focus on one thing.

“I have a date and I need help choosing an outfit.”

“You have a date?” When I bring my gaze back to hers, I see a huge smile on her face.

“I do.”

She reaches her hand out, laying it on my forearm. “Can I ask who the lucky guy is?”

I was afraid she’d ask. I just don’t know how to answer. There’s no way I can be honest because Charlotte will for sure tell Tristan or even Edward.

“I…”

Pulling away, she waves her hand in the air. “Don’t mind me, I’m being nosy.” I laugh awkwardly before she spins around, heading back the way she came. “Follow me, I have the perfect outfit. It’ll look amazing on you.”

“You do?” Stepping after her, we walk through a room housing six tables, all with machines on top and people sitting or standing behind them, sewing or cutting material.

None of them look up as we walk through and into a room toward the back. “If you’re busy, I can come back,” I tell her, seeing how focused on their work they all are.

“Don’t be silly.” She points to a pink velvet chair off to the side. “Sit.” I go to it automatically, my gaze roving around this room.

Shelves housing heels and boots line the top and bottom of the walls with rails in between, dresses, jumpsuits, and several other things hanging from them.

Charlotte heads over to the one on the left, picking out a white jumpsuit as she hums a tune and reaches above it for a pair of black heels.

Pulling a curtain aside, she places them inside before indicating to me. “Try them on.”

Standing up slowly, I stare at her in bewilderment. How can she know exactly which outfit to choose for me?

I stay silent, not voicing what is running around in my head before I step inside the fitting room, a smaller chair the same as the pink one sitting in the corner and every wall hung with a full-length mirror.

“I’ll wait out here,” s says, pulling the curtain closed.

Getting rid of my clothes, I pull on the white jumpsuit, doing the side zip up and looking into the mirror.

A deep V plunges into my cleavage, covered with a lighter mesh fabric, the white material clinging to my waist and hips before it tapers down to fit my legs and stops just above my ankles.

My bra shows beneath the plunging V. It’s understated sexy, and even though this is something I would never wear, I feel beautiful in it.

Sitting on the chair, I push my feet into the heels, doing the buckles up at the side. Two wide straps slide over the top of my foot, one with a metal V embellishment. They’re higher than anything I’d normally wear because I favor Converse, or flat sandals, or small-heeled boots. But I can’t deny how they make my legs look longer.

“Well?” Charlotte’s voice comes from behind the curtain, and I take a deep breath before stepping out and showing her what it looks like. “I knew it!” She fist bumps the air, her eyes sparkling and her lips lifted into a grin. “As soon as this was made a week ago, I could see you in it.

“You could?”

“Mmmhmm.” She pulls on my arm, bringing me closer and messing with the fabric at my waist and hips. “It needs taking in a little here.” She pulls at the top of the middle of my back before spinning me around to look in the only other mirror in this large room. “See? Maybe an inch, but it’ll make all the difference.” When she lets it go, I can see what she means.