Page 46 of The Magic We Made

“Yes.” Angie looks triumphant. “Isn’t it amazing? It’s vintage. Jessica said you’re the first person she thought of when she saw it. She says youhaveto wear it tonight.”

“Tonight?” I can’t stop fingering the material. It’s even softer than Ash’s dining room chairs. “What’s tonight?”

“Jessica and Derrick’s engagement party!” she cries. “I know you already RSVP’d that you can’t come, but Jessica has said all along that you’re going to change your mind, and when she showed me this dress, I knew why. This is the perfect dress for you. Jessica says to pair it with your black knee-high boots.”

I don’t bother asking how Jessica Gold knows I own black knee-high boots. Jessica is an alleged “good” witch who has been styling everyone in town since she opened her boutique. Ash would callJessica’s ability to find the perfect thing for her customers to wear a “superpower.”

I call it “exploitive”—especially when I see the dress’s price tag.

“Fifteen hundred dollars?” I exclaim, tossing the buttery soft fabric back onto the couch in horror. “No wonder she thinks it’s so perfect for me! There are only like five people in town who can afford a fifteen-hundred-dollar suede dress.”

“Yes, and you’re one of them.” Angie snatches up the dress and stuffs it back into my hands. “Comeon, Frankie. Treat yourself a little. At least try it on.”

“Alittle?” I cry as she shoves me toward my bedroom door. “Mywedding dresscost less than fifteen hundred dollars!”

“And it showed,” Angie says with the kind of savagery only shown by close friends and siblings. “Please go try the dress on. For me.”

“No way,” I say.

But even as I’m insisting I won’t, I’m overcome with the urge to do exactly that. There’s something about the way the fabric feels against my fingers that’s making me want to feel it against other parts of my body.

“Go try it on,” Angie says. “If you hate it, don’t buy it. You know Jessica won’t care either way.”

I hesitate because I know what’s going to happen if I try it on and don’t hate it. I’m going to buy it, and then I’m going to stress out because I’ve overspent on a red suede dress I’m never going to wear because it’s so impractical.

But the material feels as airy as dandelion fluff on my fingers.

That’s it. I have to try it on.

“It’s not going to fit,” I say over my shoulder to Angie as I go into my bedroom. “It’s too small.”

“It’ll fit,” Angie says. She’s gone back to puttering around with her dye. “Jessica is never wrong about clothes. That’s why you’re going to wear it to her party tonight. And you’re going to let me cover your gray.”

“No, I’m not,” I declare as I go into my bedroom. “And don’t let the cat out while I’m in here, no matter how much she begs.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

I can’t see Angie anymore because I’ve stepped behind my bedroom door and am peeling off my clothes.

But I can hear her.

“And you’re going to the party if I have to drag you there. Dina says that Jessica and Derrick specifically chose the Brewport as opposed to Mama Giovanni’s so the party wouldn’t feel stuffy. Not that I think Mama’s ever feels stuffy, but I guess they’re not interested in giving their guests a white tablecloth experience... more like nachos and beer, which is another reason why you have to come. I know how much you love nachos.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, as I wiggle into the dress. Even with the extra-long zipper ribbon, it’s not the easiest thing to get on. The sleeves are very long and very tight.

But I was right. The suede feels amazing against my skin, like rolling in a big pile of powdered sugar.

“But I guess Jessica and Derrick had their first date there,” Angie is prattling on. “If you can call going to trivia night at the local brewery a date. But you know the parents of that girl that Jessica mentors? They own it, so I’m assuming they’re also giving her a pretty good deal on it.”

“Uh-huh.” I’ve gotten the dress zipped up and am looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door.

Jessica was right. I look amazing in this dress. More than amazing... it might be the best I’veeverlooked, including on my wedding day.

“What’s her name? Oh, right. Esther,” Angie is saying from the living room. “She’s going to be there.Everyoneis going to be there—Mark, Dina, me, Troy, Mom. Even Cat RSVP’d yes, but I doubt she’ll show up. I don’t know what’s going on with her these days. Do you think she’s really writing a book? God, it better not be about me.”

I’m staring at myself in the mirror. I know it’s vain but I can’t help it. I’ve never seen myself look this good. The dress hugs me in all the right places.

And the color—the color sets off the olive tone in my skin like nothing I’ve ever worn before.