Taylor glanced around to be sure the sales clerk wasn’t listening. “Apparently I’m not a good kisser, though. Troy said... you know.”
“Troy told you that you weren’t a good kisser?”
“No. He just said... we could be friends.”
“Of course you can be friends. You don’t want a lover who doesn’t care about you.”
“He’s not my lover. He’s not even attracted to me.”
“And he said this?”
“No. But it was implied.”
McKenna gave her a strange look. “Not sure your logic is all that sound, which is fine. No one ever said a woman has to be logical all the time. But the one thing that is clear, is that we need to find you the perfect gown for the Ball. Yes?”
In the dressing room, armed with another stack of gowns, all handpicked by McKenna, Taylor tried on one after the other. They were all beautiful dresses, all far more sophisticated than Taylor would have selected for herself. A stunning ruby red ball gown with full skirts and a plunging décolleté; a long, form fitting red sequin gown with small padded shoulders that left her entire back bare; a sweet gown in blush with avant garde roses stitched at the bodice and fluttery folds of fabric falling to her feet.
So many beautiful gowns and yet none of them felt right. She couldn’t imagine going to the Ball in any of them. And then, right when Taylor didn’t think she could try on another dress, the sales clerk pushed a dress through the curtain and insisted Taylor try it on. “This was in the back,” the girl said, “It’s a small size, but you’re tiny and young enough to pull the look off. “
Taylor warily eyed the gown with the red circle spangles. It was not a quiet little dress, nor a sleek sophisticated gown. It was... eye catching. Maybe even show stopping. It was a dress better suited to a stage or runway...
“It’s not me,” Taylor said, poking her head out of the dressing room. “It’s just too much.”
“Put it on,” McKenna said.
“Do,” the sales girl agreed. “I think you’d look beautiful in it. You have the right coloring with your dark hair and eyes. How can it hurt to give it a try?”
A few minutes later Taylor stepped from the dressing room and turned to let the sales girl zipped up the back of the dress.
She shot McKenna a quick glance as she took a place before the tall mirror. McKenna’s eyes were wide, and she was smiling, broadly.
Taylor looked from McKenna to the mirror, and studied her reflection.
And then she did a slow twirl in front of the mirror, unable to believe she was looking at herself.
She looked... incredible.
It was the dress, of course. And the gown’s tulle wasn’t exactly pink, more blush or nude, and covered with those glossy red spangles and moved and shimmered and reflected the light.
Taylor put a hand to the deep V-neck bodice, and then to the full skirt.
“It’s... pretty,” she said softly, a bit awed by her own reflection.
“Stunning,” the sales clerk agreed.
“That’s the dress,” McKenna added.
Taylor reached for the tag that hung beneath her arm and glanced at the price a second time, making sure she hadn’t read it wrong the first time. Nine hundred dollars. Good God. Did people really pay this much for a single dress? “It’s way too much. Way, way too much.”
“But it’s perfect,” McKenna said. “You look like a princess.”
“Anyone would in a dress that costs almost a thousand dollars,” Taylor retorted, turning around to be unzipped.
“It is couture,” the sales girl said. “One of a kind.”
“Not for me. I’m not couture,” Taylor said, shaking her head. “I’m an off the rack kind of a girl. Eighty to one hundred dollars max on a dress. That’s my budget. And the ivory dress with the bronze sequin bodice fit me, and my budget. I’ll go with that.”
Chapter Seven
With dresses zipped into garment bags and then stowed in their cars, McKenna and Taylor walked down 1st Avenue to Grey’s Saloon on Main for drinks and appetizers.
“When does Jane return?” McKenna asked, as they settled into a booth towards the back of the saloon.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” Taylor answered, glancing towards the pool tables where Callan Carrigan was playing with a couple of cowboys. Sage had once said that Callan could outride, and out rope virtually any local cowboy, and from the looks of it, she could out play them at pool, too. Callan’s sure shots were sending ball after ball into the pockets.
The guys let out a loud collective groan and McKenna turned to watch Callan take a bow. “Looks like Callan kicked butt again,” McKenna said.