GABRIELLA
The boutique smells like lavender, vanilla, and money. High-end racks of silk and satin line the walls, and for the first time since moving to New York, I’m actually dress shopping with friends. I trail my fingers over a rack of evening gowns, trying to tamp down the excitement bubbling up inside me.
A few yards behind us, near the store's glass front, is Leon. He’s leaning against a display case, hands shoved in his trouser pockets, his dark eyes scanning the room like a hawk. He’s dressed in black from head to toe, which causes him to stick out like a sore thumb in the boutique filled with bright, pastel colors. But he doesn't seem to care.
Nicole grabs a bright crimson mini dress off the rack, holding it up against herself before glancing back at Leon.
"How on earth did y
