Painting Paper Hearts | ✔

Chapter 8- Change of Heart

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The next day, Erin and I focused on finding a dress with the "it" factor. It was like senior prom all over again, minus the over excitement of the whole process with your closest girlfriends, the heebie-jeebies, and the aggravation over a girl wearing the same dress as you.

We had gone around the deepest pit of downtown to search for a dress fit for a short girl like me, a colour that would bring out the color of my eyes (blame Erin for being extra anal about this stuff), and just the right design that would impress a man with high caliber like Marcus.

We surrendered after long day of walking around the city, basking under the Toronto heat. We finally agreed on hunting online and see if it was available in store.

It hadn't been too long since and we had spotted the greatest contender.

I had never seen anything like it before. No matter how much I despised wearing tube dresses, my eyes couldn't resist the delicate detailing of this one particular garment with an eye-catching red and black motif.

It was a little plain at the back—nothing really crazy yet the single layered lace of red on top of the black garment was a statement-maker. Nothing had made happier than two colors mixed together in one masterpiece.

The goddess of luck was not on our side as we found ourselves restless—the dress with the "it" factor was already discontinued by the designer. In fact, it wasn't even that affordable either.

I let out a loud sigh then shut the laptop down before the disappointment run spread like poison.

Why post it the website anyway? That's just frustrating.

"I don't know what's with the big fuss with this dress hunting, Erin. I'll just wear the one I brought with me." I persuaded my best friend but she only gave me a fierce look.

I was too tired to look anyways. It was almost eleven at night and my feet were practically thumping from sore.

The dress I had brought with me was a pastel pink halter dress that I bought on sale back in Vancouver. It was suited to be worn on a bright day—summer appropriate due to its very light fabric or even a casual dinner on a local eatery. The embroidery wasn't at all special but it hugged my body at the right places and it didn't reveal unnecessary skin. Just add a suede belt and the dress was already fabulous.

The color from my best friend's face drained. "You don't mean to wear a common dress to a romantic dinner, do you?"

"We are not going to a romantic dinner. Besides, he didn't specify where we're going exactly."

"Emerald, this is not just a date. This is the date. He said dress nice, so you will."

I almost laughed out loud at her remark. "Don't make it sound like he is about to propose to me, Erin. I'm a girl on a mission here and I just need to blend in."

Even though I am his pretend girlfriend, he didn't need to make an effort to be this romantic since this is just a play. In a matter of three, short weeks, the deal will dissolve and it'll be a happily ever after—for Marcus, anyway.

"It's better safe than sorry, Emerald. You don't want to underdress."

"I don't want to overdress, either, and stop sounding like a condom commercial." The slogan had reminded me of the public washroom ad I had read countless times. It was quite the entertainment during a long bathroom break.