Page 96 of The Bad Girl

Chapter 33

Nadine

The day’s finally here. A day I’ve waited six years for. The beginning of my love story, starring Tom and I.

Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

I spent the morning signing papers with legal, and I’m now a millionaire with virtually no rent for the next five years and plenty of job prospects. It’s the safest position I could be in, but for some reason, it’s not joy I’m feeling.

Jenna holds up a pink dress with a flowered print. “I like this with black boots.”

“You can’t put her in pastels lest you want him to feel like he’s at church service on Easter Sunday,” Harry, my own personal fairy godfather, shoots back.

“We already had her in pastels, and it’s plastered all over Facebook. We need something different,” Stacey adds. “I’m thinking skinny jeans, thigh-high boots coming up over the jeans, a Nirvana shirt.”

“Can we say, ‘trying too hard?’” Harry says with a roll of his eyes, then his face contorts into contemplation. “You might be on to something. Keep the outfit, but put a princess shirt on in place of the Nirvana one. Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast. Something like that.”

“Wait, what?” I say. “How will that help?”

“It’s cute and says, ‘I don’t give a fuck.’ If he saw you in that Nirvana tee shirt, he’d have you made. He’d never figure a girl trying extra hard to be bad would put on a fairytale princess tee shirt. I’ll send someone to bring up a few outfits,” Harry says as he navigates his contact list.

Stacey and Jenna nod in agreement, and I can’t help but see the logic of his words, and as odd as it sounds, I’m glad he took the afternoon off of work to help me.

After the message is sent, Harry begins circling me. “We’ll keep your hair down, pulled back at the top with an ‘edgy’ clip. Nothing that screams ‘look at me,’ but something with personality.”

“Neutral makeup?” Jenna interjects.

“Fresh-faced, but let’s bring her eyes to life. Her nails will be done in plain French tips.”

“Purse?” Jenna cuts in again.

“Small, casual. Not name brand, but kept well.”

Stacey and Jenna bury their noses in their phones, trying to find the perfect accessories.

Harry continues circling me. “Now, Nadine, you are to arrive roughly five minutes late—”

“I can’t be late. I have time anxiety.”

“Hush now, you haven’t a choice. Five minutes late, and you can’t have your drink order ready. You have to act like you haven’t thought of it.”

“But I always get a—”

Harry throws his hands up. “Will you just leave this to the experts?”

“I’m an idiot that doesn’t know what coffee she likes: check.”

“When you sit down to drink, you’re going to get distracted.”

“Wait, are you telling me to get distracted, or are you some kind of psychic?”

“You can’t act too into him. Men like a good hunt. Nothing good in life is ever free, so give your affections sparingly. Name drop, but not excessively. One time, then move on. Cut the date short.”

I turn to Jenna and Stacey, exasperated by Harry’s instructions. “Does anyone think this is good advice?”

They look up, look to each other, and back at me, both nodding their heads in agreement.

“This goes against every fiber of my being. There’s no way I can pull this off, and I’m not sure I even want to. I can’t put on a fucking show for the rest of my life.”