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The slinky dress had a plunging neckline and back.

It’d make Catherine panic, but Noelle needed to assert that this was her decision.

She didn’t think the slinky dress was the right one either, but she wanted to see it on anyway.

As the saleswoman helped her out of the first dress, musical notes sounded from Noelle’s phone.

It was Derrick’s ringtone. “Give me just a minute,” she said to the saleswoman.

The woman nodded as she wrestled the full-skirted dress back onto a hanger.

“Hi, honey,” Noelle said into her phone. “You’ve caught me in the dressing room. I’m still trying on dresses.” She watched as the saleswoman unzipped the bag for the slinky dress. The fabric was quite lovely, the light streaming through the dressing room windows giving it a unique sheen.

“How’s it going?” asked Derrick, clearly calling from his car.

“Good. Lots of great dresses.”

The saleswoman signaled that she’d be right back and stepped out of the dressing room.

“Send me some pictures.”

“I can’t do that. What if I choose one of them? Then you’ll have seen me in it before the wedding. That’s very bad luck,” she teased, as she touched the next dress’s soft fabric.

“I don’t believe in bad luck. I’d love to see which one you like best.”

“I haven’t found the one I like best yet,” she said. “I’m sure I will soon.”

“You haven’t liked any of them?”

“Well, I liked a few of them, but I haven’t found one I love yet.”

“Are you sure?”

Noelle paused as a thought occurred. “Your mother’s been sending you pictures, hasn’t she?” She turned away from the dress, fighting the disappointment percolating in her stomach.

How could she do that without asking me?

“She’s really having a good time,” said Derrick. “Don’t tell her that you know she’s been doing it.”

Noelle stared at herself in the mirror. Disappointment wasn’t what she should feel while trying on dresses for the most important day of her life. “Which dress have you liked best?” she asked Derrick, dreading the answer.

“There was one with sheer long sleeves that I thought was great.”

The dress she’d just taken off.

Catherine is meddling. She must have told him to call me.

“Yes, that was a good one, but I don’t love it.”

“You looked amazing in it.”

Noelle closed her eyes, tightening her grip on the phone. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Why is he taking his mother’s side when it’s my decision?

His political strategy.

It’d been a few months since Derrick had publicly announced he was running for assemblyman.

He’d hired a consultant whose main job was to make certain Derrick looked right and said the right thing everywhere he went.

Miranda, the consultant, had suggestions for Noelle too.

The first one was the toughest: the consultant had said Noelle should leave her job.

Noelle had known this would happen. There’d been too many subtle—and not-so-subtle—hints from Derrick’s mother and himself.

Simply put, being a bartender wasn’t the best look for the wife of a politician.

He’d been polite about suggesting it, but Noelle had seen worry in his eyes that she wouldn’t do it.

So she’d quit. She’d called Rex and told him first. He’d understood and claimed to be delighted, saying he could see her and Derrick in the White House one day.

There’d been many tears as she personally said goodbye to the people she’d worked with for years.

Savannah had taken her out and gotten her drunk.

She’d also given Noelle a lecture on not changing too much of herself for Derrick.

Noelle had nodded and promised, but knew she’d never get in the way of Derrick’s political dreams.

Noelle was happy and even excited. His career was something they were building together. Right now that was the priority. She’d have time for herself once he was elected.

“And if he doesn’t get elected?” Savannah had asked.

“Then he’ll go back to work for his father. And I’ll go back to school.”

“He’ll want to run again,” Savannah had pointed out.

“We’ll see.” Noelle wasn’t so sure. She’d learned Derrick didn’t like failure, and he’d see an election loss as a big one. She knew he’d think it would look desperate to run again.

That wasn’t the image he wanted to project.

This election was it . He’d only try once.

She was committed to making it happen for him. And she bit her tongue when she didn’t like Miranda’s suggestions.

One night as they strategized, the consultant had held up several photos of Noelle and Derrick together. “What pops out at you in these pictures?” Miranda had asked.

“Noelle’s hair,” Derrick immediately answered. “It practically glows.”

That’s how I like it.

She’d looked the consultant in the eye, ready to defend her hair color. But the woman had given her a sad smile. “It’s lovely,” she’d said. “It’s definitely you, but Derrick is right. We need the focus on him. It’ll just be temporary. After the election, you can do whatever you want with it.”

After the election also means after our wedding pictures.

It broke her heart a bit. Her hair color had been part of her own strategy to get the bartending job downtown. She’d grown to love the color; it gave her confidence.

The only difference between what I did to get that job and what Derrick is doing now is that there are two people involved.

The next week she toned down her hair. At Miranda’s request, she’d also bleached her teeth and added several simple navy-blue pieces to her wardrobe.

The one thing Noelle did really like was Miranda’s insistence that she wear high heels.

Expensive high heels. Derrick had been happy to purchase them and the new clothes.

“Women will notice how you dress and what brand shoes you wear,” the consultant had told Noelle. “We want to shape you into someone they secretly wish they could be, but not make you someone they resent. We’ll tone down the clothes but punch up the shoes and jewelry.”

Noelle had nodded, feeling fortunate but also guilty to have someone else pay for her clothes. Derrick pointed out that every purchase was an investment in his future.

His future?

Our future.