“No, not that colour.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes, staring at the pale blue fabric being measured against Arwen’s body. “Too washed out. She needs something alive.”
Arwen, standing awkwardly in front of the large mirror in the fitting room, drew in a heavy breath.
“I thought this pale blue was already beautiful,” she murmured, her voice sounding like she was trying to convince herself.
“Beautiful? But not right for you.” Ryan stepped closer, his fingertips brushing Arwen’s shoulder before he quickly pulled his hand back. “For you, Arwen, the colour has to blaze—like the way you light up a room without even trying.”
Arwen’s cheeks flushed. “You’re exaggerating, Ryan.”
“Exaggerating?” Ryan arched a brow. “I’m just stating the truth.”
Before Arwen could lower her head again, a cheerful voi
