Rosa whistles softly, and she's back to smiling. "Let's do the dresses."
I roll my chair back and watch as she holds up a red Valentino dress, which I immediately reject . It's too glamorous, like something I'd wear to a red carpet than a dinner date.
The dress is sewn with silk, and It has been beaded subtly along the sleeves and bodice, with a figure-flattering silhouette framing the hips and flowing gently to the floor. It's beautiful, but it's not me.
"I see. Not a red girl?” Mark says, his voice light.
I shiver. “No. Not at all.”
“In that case, what do you think of the black?" Mark asks. He's holding up a black dress that's a lot simpler but still doesn't look any less expensive.
The dress shimmers in the light, it's a classic boat neck inlaid with sequins and made of delicate l
