When a weary college student accidentally summons the ghost of an arrogant billionaire, she hesitantly agrees to help solve his dark disappearance, but discovering the truth entails bidding farewell.
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Lake Larson
"Come out! I want to see that one!" Ian yelled from the other side of the stall, impatient.
I rolled my eyes, trying to zip up the back. Seeing myself in the mirror in the fourth dress, I huffed in disappointment. All the dresses were horrible on me. The color, the fit, and the length were all wrong.
Self doubting myself. "Nothing is fitting right," I replied, before glancing at the ceiling.
"Let me at least see that one." Ian's voice sounded closer.
I looked at the stall door, seeing his bare feet. Ian positioned himself against the door, leaning into it.
"Okay." I opened the door, prompting him to stumble.
I glanced down at my body in the dress. It rode up my legs, stopping too short for comfort. The material dug into my side, and the front hung low, showing off my scar. I placed my hand between my breasts, covering my skin from Ian and avoiding the conversation about the mark.
I lingered my eyes on Ian, seeing his trailing down my body. While keeping my hand between my breasts, I pulled at the ends and tried to make the dress longer. The discomfort showed on my face.
"Uncomfortable?" he asked with a raised brow.
"You think?" I replied sarcastically, pointing at the dress.
"How about the green one?" His eyes focused behind me.
I spun to glance at the last dress. Emerald satin dress draped on the hanger. Commonly, I was a no for spaghetti straps, but this one stood out.
"Okay," I whispered, hoping for the best.
I walked back into the stall, locking the latch behind me. Quickly stripping out of the black one, I stepped into the satin dress, smiling at myself in the mirror. The material and shape fit perfectly. I spun in the stall. The dress flowed past my knees with a slit up my leg.
I stepped out of the dressing area, knowing this was the one. Smiling from ear to ear, I bit my lip before looking at Ian. He watched his hands tapping his fingers on his legs while he sat in a chair.
I cleared my throat, prompting him to peek from under his hair. His eyes widened as his head tilted up. Ian's jaw dropped, forming a slight smile while his eyes softened. He shook off his first expression, smirking.
"What do you think?" I flipped my hair off my shoulders, spinning slowly.
He stood quickly with his hand out to grab mine. I stopped mid-spin, looking at our hands together. Ian leaned closer, placing his lips inches from my ear.
"You look—"
A lady flung open a curtain. "Are you guys finding everything alright?" she asked with a fake smile.
