Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,1

fitting rooms at the back of the shop. “I’ve grabbed some things I think would really do the trick and look fantastic on you,” she said breezily as she hung my—her—selections along one of the walls. “Let me know if you need a different size in anything.”

The deep red velvet dressing room curtain was slapped shut before I could manage to form a single word.

“What just happened?” I whispered to myself, slowly turning to take in the confines of the small room.

I slowly dragged the hangers back and forth, pleasantly surprised that the sales clerk had picked several pieces that were really pretty.

Stripping out of my ill-fitting clothes, I pulled one of the nighties off its hanger and tried it on. The soft silk was cool against my skin and slipped into place perfectly, proving that the clerk really knew her stuff.

I turned to look at myself in the long, gilded mirror. The nightie was held in place by two thin spaghetti straps. The neckline plunged into a deep V that showed a good amount of cleavage, but the A-line actually did an incredible job of keeping my breasts in place, making them look nice and perky. The hemline didn’t even reach mid-thigh, revealing a lot of leg, and when I turned around to check out the back, sure enough, there was more than a hint of cheek peeking out.

The light, dusky blue of the silk actually looked really nice against my pale complexion, and the peach-colored lace around the hem and bustline complemented my light red hair.

All in all, I thought I looked pretty damn good, but as I stood staring at my reflection, the determination from earlier started to flicker. I felt myself losing steam. A pep-talk was seriously needed, so I pulled my phone from my purse and hit the number on speed dial as I paced my small confines.

The phone rang and rang before voicemail finally kicked in. “Hey, honey,” I spoke. “So, I know this is the third message I’ve left you today, but I could really use my BFF right now. Or, you know . . . whenever you’re available.” I blew out a sigh and looked back at myself in the mirror. “I’m currently standing in the dressing room of a lingerie store, wearing nothing but a skimpy nightie. I need you to tell me if I’m making a mistake, babe. Call me back.”

My shoulders sank as I disconnected and tossed the phone back into my purse. “Well,” I said to my reflection, “looks like you’re in this on your own. Might as well suck it up.”

I spent the next few minutes trying on the rest of the sales clerk’s selections. By the time I walked out of the store half an hour later, I had four new nighties, three bra and panty sets that were a whole hell of a lot better than the stuff I’d been wearing, a new robe, and a teddy I was sure I’d never have the guts to wear but had talked myself into getting anyway. Just in case.

It wasn’t often I had some free time to myself. I decided to take advantage of the beautiful day and, having a babysitter for another two hours, headed to a little bistro a couple blocks down for lunch.

As I made the short walk at a leisurely pace, I thought over my plan again. Alex’s hours had been erratic over the past few months, making it so he usually didn’t get home until well after the sun had gone down and I’d already put Ivy to bed. Usually I hated his late hours and going to bed alone, but I intended to make it work for me tonight.

The plan was, after getting Ivy down, I’d change into one of my newest purchases and wait in bed for my husband to come home so he could unwrap his new gift.

I was feeling good about things, hopeful even, that this would be the start of getting us back to where we once were. Pushing through the door of the bistro, I had a smile on my face and a bit of a swing in my hips as I pictured Alex’s reaction.

My good mood remained in place as the hostess grabbed a menu and led the way to my table. As I followed, my attention drifted, taking in the other diners who were enjoying their meals. I came to stop in the middle of the dining area when I spotted a familiar curtain