The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

Page 162



“It’s nice.”

“Nice? God.” She immediately hung it back in her closet and reached for another.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me. It’s a trap, it’s a classic trap.”

“I’m asking you,” she began as she studied the navy suit in the mirror, “because you’re a professional, a man who takes meetings, goes to court, and…” The suit joined two previous choices on the fainting couch at the foot of the bed. “I don’t know why I’m asking you either.”

“Whatever you wear, you’re going to do great.”

She could only sigh at him. “This is not the answer.”

“Right. I’m going to go let the dogs out.”

When he escaped, she texted Cleo.

Wardrobe help. STAT!

By the time Cleo came in, Sonya had three more choices draped over the couch.

“I sense a crisis. Presentation day wear.”

“Trey was no help, at all.”

Cleo shot her a look between baffled and amused. “Well, of course not.”

“Of course not,” Sonya agreed. “Which shows how screwed up I am at this moment to have even asked him in the first place. He ran away.”

“Because he’s nobody’s fool. You’ve got to respect the tactical retreat.”

Cleo, dressed in rainy day painting gear of an oversized shirt and leggings, perused the pile on the couch. She picked up three suits, the navy, the black, and a gray.

“No, no, and no. Put them back.”

“But—”

“Too expected. Great cuts, excellent fabric—you’ve always had exceptional taste in clothes—but you don’t want the expected.”

“I don’t? No,” Sonya realized. “I don’t.”

“This sage green’s lovely, and it looks great on you, but again, no. Go a little bolder. No prints,” she decreed, and walked into Sonya’s closet herself.

“No, possible, I wish I could wear this, but no.”

“Maybe separates.”

“And no. This one.”

“Oh, but Cleo, do you really think pink?”

“It’s not pink, it’s coral. It’s warm, feminine without fuss. I remember this hits you right at the knee, so the right length for this, good neckline. You want my necklace, the tiny gold beads.”

“I love that necklace.”

“It’s just right for this, and your twisty hoop earrings I covet. You could pair it with this cream-colored jacket, but I say no jacket. Having your own home gym and using it’s given you happening shoulders and arms. Let them see a strong woman. But in these.”

She pulled out a pair of cream-colored stilettos.

“Those kill my feet. They killed my feet when I tried them on. I should never have bought them.”


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