CHAPTER ELEVEN
"You look terrific, Margot. Don’t change again."
"But I’m not sure about this top."
"Sweetie, he isn’t going to be critiquing your clothes. That’s my job. Why do you think you have a gay roommate? And I’m telling you, stop. You’re perfect."
It had taken me some time to talk her down from her original outfit, which had been way over the top—overdressed and trying too hard.
She ran to the window overlooking the parking area. "I wish I’d asked what kind of car he’d rented."
Erik had called Margot from the road and said he expected to be here around four. It was now ten minutes after four, and Margot was figuratively dancing on a razor’s edge.
She turned from the window, her face contorted with panic. "Should I have put my hair up? What do you think?" and then "Oh!" as th
