The Duet(64)

My eyes jumped up to him. Dammit. Look away! I glanced back down to my plate.

“Logan’s prom?” I asked, eyeing my green beans.

“Yeah. I figured your assistant would have reminded you about it.”

I cringed. “She would have had I actually told her about it. I completely forgot.”

Cammie feigned shock. “Brooklyn, you got invited to the senior prom? I’m so proud!”

I gave her an annoyed glare. “It’s a long story, but yes, apparently, tomorrow night I’ll be hanging out with a bunch of eighteen year olds.”

“Can you imagine the sheer amount of suppressed sexual tension in that one place?” She shivered as if she could feel it right then. “I do not envy you.”

I cringed. “Thank you for that, Cammie.”

“Do you have something to wear already?” she asked, before cutting into a piece of chicken.

Crap. Of course I didn’t have anything to wear. I hadn’t thought to pack an evening gown in my suitcase when heading to Montana. When Cammie saw the panic flash across my face, she clapped her hands together.

“SHOPPING SPREE!”

Derek and Jason laughed, but I just sat there wishing I could trade places with the chicken on the table. I’d rather have someone stick a fork in me than see Jason dressed up in a tuxedo.

My heart couldn’t handle it. My hoo-hah probably couldn’t either. Maybe I could carry an icepack around in my underwear. To y’know, cool it off down there.

…



The next morning Cammie and I met up with Paulo, the fabulously grizzly taxidermist, at the one shop in Big Timber that sold dresses that you could get away with wearing to prom. We’d called ahead and had them open the shop an hour early so that there wouldn’t be any security issues. You’d think that wouldn’t be necessary, but teenage girls can be really scary. One time a fan jumped on my back while I was at a restaurant and my face fell forward onto my plate and I literally thought my steak knife was going to stab me. So yeah, I don’t fear dark alleys. I fear teenage girls.

“Dress me up, bitches,” I said as I followed Paulo and Cammie into the shop. I had a thermos of coffee in my left hand and a pair of high-heels in the other.

Paulo shot me one of those “girl, please” glares, but I just winked.

“We need to find their sluttiest dresses,” Cammie mocked as we perused the store. It was small, and the entire front half was stocked with western wear and casual clothes, but in the back there were racks upon racks of formal dresses. Apparently it was the only dress shop in town.

“I think you should wear this,” Cammie said, pulling out a pink taffeta disaster.

I flipped her the bird and turned toward another rack.

“You’ve got a nice butt and some decent tits. You should show them off,” Paulo said, holding up a red dress that should have been placed in the underwear section of the store. It was completely see-through save for the thin patches covering the crotch area and the breasts. I looked past the dress, to glare at Paulo who was wearing a fitted black blazer and a handkerchief tied around his neck. Most of his mischievous smile was hidden behind his beard, and once again I was left wondering how exactly a person like him existed in a place like Big Timber, Montana.

“You can’t be serious,” I said.

“Yup! Two to one. You have to try it on,” Cammie said, taking the hanger from Paulo and draping the “dress” over her arm.

I should have kicked the two of them out right then because for the next hour, they just got progressively worse. I think they found every dress in that store that would make me look like a lady of the night. I was left scouring through the racks to find anything that would do a decent job of covering up my boobs. I wasn’t trying to give Logan a heart attack at his senior prom.

Near the back of the store, there were a few dresses that were glitter-free, sequin-free, and that wouldn’t cut off halfway down my ass. That’s where I found a simple black dress that had a low-cut back and a hemline that hit my ankles. The material wasn’t what I was used to from the designers in LA, but it had a traditional cut, and I knew it would fit my frame well. I grabbed my size and snuck away to the dressing room while Cammie and Paulo took turns trying on tiaras and practicing their coronation waves.

“Boo, you whore. Come out and show us the dress you just snuck in there,” Cammie said as soon as I closed the dressing room drape.

“Did you just quote Mean Girls?” I asked, pulling my shirt over my head and unbuttoning my shorts.

The drape flew open and Cammie stood there with her hands on her hips.

“Cameron! Jeez, a little privacy please.”