““Do you think you could make my skirt a little shorter next time?” Miss Right grumbled, as she buckled in and the car began to move. “It’s a miracle I didn’t flash anyone tonight.” “You’re the fantasy, sweetie. Sometimes that means uncomfortable clothes.” Miranda said, without looking up from her tablet. “Statistically speaking, four of the men on your date tonight were likely to be leg men.” “For the next date, can I be the fantasy for men who like to see women in comfy baggy pajamas and flip ...flops?” Miranda acknowledged a message informing her that the men from the date were now back at the Suitors’ Mansion, bragging about their triumph at the Ren Faire to the poor schmucks who’d been left behind. “Sorry, sweetie. Tomorrow’s group date is Rock n’ Roll Fantasy. Brace yourself for leather corsets and big hair.” Marcy groaned and dropped her head back against the headrest. “Should I be this exhausted three days in?” “It’s a marathon,” Miranda said.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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