I was a walking cliché. The once-ugly duckling who had shed her baby fat and awkward phase but was still too chickenshit to believe she was pretty.
I let out a heavy sigh, checking my appearance one more time. I might not like what I saw in my reflection, but that was silly, right? Smith saw me that way. He saw me as a s****l woman who’d wanted to explore, someone smart and capable and funny. He even said I’d look beautiful in that lacy peach lingerie. We worked in the business of seductive undergarments, but I’d never let myself believe I would be wearing them for a man, let alone Smith, of all people.
Fuck it.
Fuck it.Turning on my heel, I grabbed my purse and strutted from my apartment.
I wouldn’t know unless I tried . . .
