A High Heels Haunting
“I pulled my cell out for the fourth time in as many minutes, checking the screen. 7:05pm. And no calls. Blake had said he had a photo shoot that afternoon and to meet him at La Cucina restaurant at seven for dinner. I was sitting in my car (too nervous to go into the restaurant alone) waiting for any sign of him in the parking lot. None so far. I was beginning to think I’d been punked. I mean, had I really thought he wanted to go out with me? Maybe it was ‘haze the new girl’, or maybe h...e and R.J. had been in on this little joke from the beginning. Let’s see how far we can push the plain girl into actually thinking she’s really something. I’ll offer her a modeling contract and you ask her out on a date. Hardy har har.
I shifted in my seat, tugging at the hem of my dress as it rode up my thigh in my hatchback. I had a feeling I’d be doing a lot of tugging tonight. It was at least six inches shorter than anything I’d ever worn. Slinky, tight, and cut into a low V in the front. And red. Not maroon or mauve but bright fire engine red. I’d protested about a dozen different ways when Danielle had plucked it off the rack at Macy’s yesterday, but once she shoved me and the dress into a fitting room, I’d had no choice but to put it on. Oddly enough, it actually flattered my shape. It gave me a shape. Almost a miracle. And, it had been on sale. Discounted fifty-percent off as the new season’s styles were about to come in. But the deciding factor had been the color. It perfectly matched my red heels. Yeah, I was wearing them again. Call me superstitious, but I was starting to think of them as my good luck charms. I know, I know, I’d have to get a new pair at some point or people were going to begin to wonder if I didn’t only own one pair of shoes. But, for now, they fit perfectly, matched perfectly, and looked smoking hot for my date.MoreLess
I shifted in my seat, tugging at the hem of my dress as it rode up my thigh in my hatchback. I had a feeling I’d be doing a lot of tugging tonight. It was at least six inches shorter than anything I’d ever worn. Slinky, tight, and cut into a low V in the front. And red. Not maroon or mauve but bright fire engine red. I’d protested about a dozen different ways when Danielle had plucked it off the rack at Macy’s yesterday, but once she shoved me and the dress into a fitting room, I’d had no choice but to put it on. Oddly enough, it actually flattered my shape. It gave me a shape. Almost a miracle. And, it had been on sale. Discounted fifty-percent off as the new season’s styles were about to come in. But the deciding factor had been the color. It perfectly matched my red heels. Yeah, I was wearing them again. Call me superstitious, but I was starting to think of them as my good luck charms. I know, I know, I’d have to get a new pair at some point or people were going to begin to wonder if I didn’t only own one pair of shoes. But, for now, they fit perfectly, matched perfectly, and looked smoking hot for my date.MoreLess
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