Riley pointed at her. “My thoughts exactly.” She looked at Morgan. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
Harlow’s wasa small dress shop, located not far from the bookstore Morgan had visited when she’d first arrived. It wassimple and elegant and far more relaxed than she’d thought it would be.
The saleswoman greeted Riley with fondness and familiarity. “Riley! So good to see you. What are we looking for today?”
“Morgan needs a dress for dinner at the Celtic Goddess tonight.”
The woman appraised her. “Who’s the lucky man?”
“Patrick,” Riley confided with barely concealed glee.
“Really,” the woman said, sharing a conspiratorial smile.
“Really.”
Morgan was assessed, measured in a way that didn’t involve an actual tape measure.
“Did you have something specific in mind?” the woman asked almost absently.
“Not really, no.”
The older woman beamed and led them to a room in the back furnished with comfortable chairs and a draped alcove. “Please, leave it to me.”
She left, and Morgan looked around awkwardly.
“Relax,” Riley said. “Fiona is the best. She has a gift for finding the perfect dress.”
In less time than Morgan thought possible, Fiona returned with an armful of choices in various styles, lengths, and colors.
“Go on,” Riley said, sinking into one of the chairs and pointing to the alcove.
Morgan accepted the dresses and slipped behind the curtains, thinking that so far, this was a lot less painful than she’d envisioned.
She tried on the burgundy dress with a draped neckline first.
“Too much,” the woman said.
“Right,” Riley agreed. “Try the navy one next.”
She tried the navy. It was fine.
“Come out and let me see,” Riley said.
Morgan came out. Riley looked at her, looked at the dress, shook her head. “No. We need something a little more…” She waved her hands. “Romantic.”
Morgan opened her mouth to protest but Fiona clapped her hands together, “I’ve got just the thing,” and disappeared again before Morgan could say anything.
She returned with green silk. Deep and warm, a shade that sat between forest and emerald. Morgan immediately fell in love with it.
It fit as if it had been made for her, cascading over her in subtle shimmery waves, accentuating all the right spots.
“Out,” Riley said.
She came out.
“That’s the one,” Riley said.
Morgan looked down at herself. “It’s?—”