Page 37 of No Mistakes (No Mercy #2)

MANDY

The day has finally arrived and to be honest, the little girl inside is screaming at being in a fancy boutique like this, trying on dresses for an event I’m not even invited to.

“What do you think about this dress?” Eva asks, holding up a black floor-length gown and giving it a dramatic little sway against her body, like she’s about to waltz into some royal gala.

I tilt my head, sipping my complimentary champagne. “It’s nice… for a funeral.”

Her mouth drops open because, of course, I’d say that in a boutique full of people, but she’s already laughing before I even finish my sip. “Alright, alright, I get it. Not this dress.”

She drapes it over a rack and flops down next to me on the sofa. Around us, women are pulling dresses like they’re in a supermarket sweep, staff darting back and forth with armfuls of fabric like their lives depends on it.

Eva leans her head onto my shoulder, her voice dropping into that mock-casual tone she uses when she’s fishing for gossip. “Sooo… are you finally going to tell me what happened between you and Ant?”

I shift, pretending to be fascinated by the bubbles in my champagne while heat creeps up my cheeks. The moment he spoke to me flashes in my mind, and I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

“He took me to a fairground,” I admit.

Eva jerks upright so fast her champagne spills over her top. She freezes mid-spill, wide-eyed. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

I look down at my hands, biting back my grin. “Yeah… I know.”

Eva reaches forward, grabbing my arm like she’s trying to shake the rest of the details out of me. “No. No, you do not just drop that and then sit there like you didn’t just hand me the best piece of gossip I’ve had in months.”

I take another slow sip of champagne just to make her wait, enjoying the chance to watch her squirm in her seat. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Her eyes narrow. “Not a big deal? Mandy…”

I sigh, setting my champagne down so she knows I’m about to get serious.

“He makes me happy, Eva. There’s just… something about him.

He doesn’t have to do anything big or fancy, he just-” I shrug, trying to put everything into words.

“-he makes me feel like I can breathe. Like I don’t have to be anyone else but me. ”

Eva’s expression softens, the teasing slipping away. “You really like him, don’t you?”

I smile. “Yeah. I really do.”

And just like that, she’s smirking again. Content with my answer. “Good. Now let’s find you a dress that’s going to make him even more speechless and every other man in that room terrified.”

A tall brunette woman appears in front of us, a smile on her face as her gaze flicks between me and Eva. “Looking for anything in particular today, ladies?”

Eva looks at me, answering before I can. “Floor length. Statement colour. Something that will make a man fall to his knees.”

The woman nods, turning towards a rack of dresses located at the back of the room. The second her back is turned, Eva reaches across, grabbing my hands, “Are you ready to go to the ball, Cinderella?”

I can’t help but laugh as she sits next to me, a smile spread wide across her face. “Why yes, fairy godmother, I am.”

The joke is light, but there’s this weird little tug in my chest, the kind that sneaks up on you.

I never had the chance to go to a prom. Never walked into a room in a gown with people turning to look, never got the opportunity to go dress shopping with my friends…

but maybe today will change all of that, and I might finally get that moment, for me.

The next twenty minutes play out like one of those movie montages where I walk out in dress after dress while Eva fires off her opinions without a worry in the world.

I step out in an emerald satin dress, doing a slow spin, before stopping in front of her.

“Gorgeous,” she says, tilting her head, “but a bit bridesmaid-y.”

I nod in agreement and head back to the dressing room.

Next up is a champagne silk dress with a thigh-high slit.

“You look like a Bond girl,” she says with a smirk. “But can you sit without flashing someone?”

I try lowering myself onto the sofa beside her, but the slit falls wide open, sending a cold draft straight past my panties.

“Back in I go,” I sigh, sliding the curtain shut behind me.

Midnight blue velvet. Eva tilts her head, examining me. “Love the vibe,” she admits, before squinting. “Hate the sleeves.”

“What’s wrong with the sleeves?” I ask, holding them up in the mirror.

“You look like an extra in an Austin Powers movie,” she says, struggling not to laugh.

I reappear in the next dress like I’m on a runway, striking a pose in front of her, hoping that it might give me a better chance of a yes.

Eva tosses a chip in her mouth. “Gold star for effort… if you wanted to look like a disco ball.”

A snort comes from beside us, and I turn to see the stylist doing her best to keep a straight face. I sigh and look back at Eva. “Next?”

She nods quickly. “Be careful, one wrong spotlight and you’ll blind half the room.”

I flip her off over my shoulder before disappearing behind the curtain again.

We’ve been here nearly two hours, and I’ve lost track of how many dresses I’ve tried on. I pull the next one over my head, the silver fabric clinging to me like static every time I move.

I push the curtain aside, but I don’t even make it three steps before Eva crooks a finger, sending me straight back inside.

“What’s wrong with this one?”

She leans forward with her chin in her hand like she’s judging a cooking show. “Pretty. Boring. Next.”

“Wow. Harsh,” I mutter, walking back to the curtain.

Before I have the chance to pull it closed, the stylist runs over, carrying a garment bag like it’s the crown jewels. She unzips it slowly, and Eva stands, walking over to see what it is. The moment the dress is visible, everyone around us falls silent.

It’s red.

Not just any red, but a deep, rich shade that looks like it was made to get people talking. Off-the-shoulder straps that sit mid-arm, a fitted bodice that is hidden underneath the material, and a floor-length skirt that flows like liquid.

Eva’s jaw drops. “That’s the one. I swear to god, Mandy, if you don’t buy it, I will.”

I raise a brow. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a disco ball?”

She scoffs, pushing me back gently until I’m in the dressing room. “Go. Now,” she says quickly.

The stylist follows me into the changing area, closing the curtain behind us. She pulls the dress out carefully, and I can’t help but be mesmerised. I step into it carefully as the stylist slides it over my skin effortlessly, like it was made for me. She zips it up, taking a step back.

“Are you ready?” she asks, her smile beaming.

I nod, taking a slow breath as I push the curtain aside, stepping out into the open.

The room goes silent as all conversations fade, the rustle of hangers stopping as I walk further into the room. A couple of heads turn, and someone whispers. It’s quiet enough that I hear the faint clink of champagne glasses from somewhere across the boutique.

Eva’s the only one who doesn’t look surprised, and she leans back with a slow, satisfied smile. “Holy shit. Ant’s going to fucking freak.”

I walk forward, heels clicking against the polished floor, and I step on the circular platform in front of the mirror. For a moment, I don’t recognise myself. The red is deep and dangerous, the kind of colour that commands a room without a single word.

The fit is flawless. The off-the-shoulder straps rest against my skin like they’ve always belonged there. My hair falls loose around me, and for a second I feel like the air’s shifted, like maybe everyone else in the room is seeing it too.

Eva stands, circling me like she’s appraising a masterpiece. “Minimal accessories. Hair down. And the right heels… you’re gonna need heels sharp enough to kill.”

I glance at her reflection beside mine, then back at the woman in the mirror - at me - and the smile that spreads across my face is real, fierce, and maybe just a little dangerous.

The stylist steps forward, still grinning. “Shall I wrap it up for you?”

“Please,” I say, and the room slowly comes back to life as voices fill the space.

As soon as I step back out of the dressing room, Eva runs over while we watch the stylist slip the dress into a garment bag, the plastic crinkling as she hands it over. I hook it over my arm like it’s worth more than gold, because right now, it feels like it is.

Eva picks up her own bag that is spread out across the sofa. I give her a look, “When did you get a dress?”

She unzips the bag slightly, showing me the disco ball dress we both laughed at. “Shine bright like a diamond came to mind.”

She grabs her coat, placing her champagne glass onto a passing tray, and we head out into the cold. The air hits sharply as we look around the small village of Lake Forest, admiring the Christmas lights that decorate the store windows.

“Coffee?” Eva asks, already steering me towards a corner cafe with fogged-up windows.

“Why is that even a question?”

We push open the door, and the smell of espresso wraps around us instantly. It’s quiet here, just a handful of people as they sit scattered around the tables, having hushed conversations over laptops or cups.

Eva walks up to the till, ordering for us both while I find a booth in the corner. She drops into the chair opposite me, pulling off her gloves. “So… tomorrow?”

The waitress brings over our drinks, placing them on the table, and I give her a nod, silently saying thank you.

I take a sip of the latte, the heat seeping into my hands, causing my body to shiver as the warmth flows inside of me.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to walk into that room, smile like I belong there, and help save those girls. ”

She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. “While wearing a dress that might cause a cardiac arrest.”

I grin, relaxing into my seat as we enjoy our alone time, something that we haven’t had since this shit show started. “Your job is to make sure you don’t trip over your jaw when you see me in it.”

Eva laughs, leaning back. “If it’s between that and stopping you from killing someone with your heels, I’ll take the heels.”

As she talks, my eyes drift around the room, scanning everyone around us.

A shadow moves across the window, someone walking past, head down, shoulders hunched against the cold.

For a split second, they glance inside. Their gaze catching mine, sharp and unsettling, before disappearing past the building.

“What is it?” Eva looks around, her head moving frantically as she scans the room. I don’t answer straight away as my eyes stay fixated on the door. I lean back, taking a moment to calm myself as I drag in a breath, shaking my head. “I thought-” My voice falters. “I thought I just saw Adam.”

Eva’s eyes widen, “Are you sure?”

I shake my head, wiping the thought away. “I could be wrong. I didn’t have the chance to see his face.”

But something inside of me tells me I’m not.