there was nothing wrong with two friends meeting up for dinner to talk. That’s what friends did when one of them was in a shit situation.
Aria’s situation, as Hilary so k indly pointed out, was the shit situation to outdo most other shit situations.
Oh, her friend.
And what could Aria say to that? Hilary had a point. It was an acid covered, heated-to-two-hundred degrees, very painful point, but true nonetheless. Aria was twenty-six years old. Still young enough to do something with her life.
She owed it to herself.
Aria needed this night out with her friend after everything she’d gone through. It’d be her first tiny step onto the path that led to life without Douglas. Her freedom.
She would have one. She’d given him everything, despite the fact that her feelings for him hadn’t been as passionate as they’d once been. All he’d done was screw her over.
With her chin held high, she laughed and agreed. This was her official Step One. Her eardrum had almost exploded at Hilary’s excited screech. The woman was a dynamo. She’d barely finished speaking with Hilary an hour ago, and yet she’d managed to have an outfit and its accessories delivered to her door in that time.
Did the woman sit around, prepared for these sort of occasions, personal stylist on 24-7 speed dial?
Aria rolled her eyes. Of course she did.
Leaning toward the bed, she reached out a single finger and hooked the tiny scrap of dark purple lace peeking out from under the black fabric.
Teeny. Tiny. Decorated and the lace across the front was pretty, but there was less string to the back of that thong then she’d find in floss.
Aria’s face heated and she dropped it back on the bed. She wasn’t a stranger to hot lingerie. She had a whole drawer full of racy thongs, most of which Douglas had never gotten to see her in.
His fault.
But the dress was Hilary’s style. Unbelievably sexy and completely va-va-voom.
Step one, Aria. Step one, she reminded herself.
Yes, she was only going out to have dinner with a friend, but there was no reason she couldn’t look her damned best while doing so. Hilary was right; this was what she needed.
“Flaunt how sexy you are. Live your life. Do what makes you feel good. And trust me honey, very few things make a woman feel amazing, but looking beautiful does.”
Admitting that Hilary was right hadn’t been easy. It was quite humbling. Aria was the type of person that admitted her mistakes. She knew that a person could only grow, from doing so.
Over the years she’d become absorbed in the role of being Douglas’ wife . But being a wife wasn’t enough. For any woman.
A woman needed a man that made her feel beautiful, cherished, wanted . Without that, a woman wilted. And as tempting as it was to blame herself for Douglas’ lack of interested, Aria couldn’t fully accept that idea.
If Chase could stare at her like that …with so much hunger in his eyes, then it was hard to believe that she’d been the one lacking. At least, it couldn’t really be all her fault. Right?
Alright. Point proven. Now stop thinking about Chase, Aria.
With a shake of her head, she forced herself back to the present. She had no plans of dating anyone anytime soon. Not for a long, long time.
Hell, she might never trust a man enough to have a relationship again.
None of that mattered. Getting herself back, some sense of identity, that’s what mattered. For her, it would start tonight.
Right. Nodding to herself, Aria spun on her heel and headed straight for her bathroom. She had three hours to finish getting ready before meeting with Hilary.
Aria sat before her vanity staring at the woman staring back. She was wearing the strapless, black dress that Hilary had sent. It pushed up her breasts almost obscenely and she didn't want to like it, but she did.
Her hair was styled as usual, the wavy brown strands falling down her back. She applied makeup, something she rarely did. Her eyes were now smoky, defined, and it
Aria’s situation, as Hilary so k indly pointed out, was the shit situation to outdo most other shit situations.
Oh, her friend.
And what could Aria say to that? Hilary had a point. It was an acid covered, heated-to-two-hundred degrees, very painful point, but true nonetheless. Aria was twenty-six years old. Still young enough to do something with her life.
She owed it to herself.
Aria needed this night out with her friend after everything she’d gone through. It’d be her first tiny step onto the path that led to life without Douglas. Her freedom.
She would have one. She’d given him everything, despite the fact that her feelings for him hadn’t been as passionate as they’d once been. All he’d done was screw her over.
With her chin held high, she laughed and agreed. This was her official Step One. Her eardrum had almost exploded at Hilary’s excited screech. The woman was a dynamo. She’d barely finished speaking with Hilary an hour ago, and yet she’d managed to have an outfit and its accessories delivered to her door in that time.
Did the woman sit around, prepared for these sort of occasions, personal stylist on 24-7 speed dial?
Aria rolled her eyes. Of course she did.
Leaning toward the bed, she reached out a single finger and hooked the tiny scrap of dark purple lace peeking out from under the black fabric.
Teeny. Tiny. Decorated and the lace across the front was pretty, but there was less string to the back of that thong then she’d find in floss.
Aria’s face heated and she dropped it back on the bed. She wasn’t a stranger to hot lingerie. She had a whole drawer full of racy thongs, most of which Douglas had never gotten to see her in.
His fault.
But the dress was Hilary’s style. Unbelievably sexy and completely va-va-voom.
Step one, Aria. Step one, she reminded herself.
Yes, she was only going out to have dinner with a friend, but there was no reason she couldn’t look her damned best while doing so. Hilary was right; this was what she needed.
“Flaunt how sexy you are. Live your life. Do what makes you feel good. And trust me honey, very few things make a woman feel amazing, but looking beautiful does.”
Admitting that Hilary was right hadn’t been easy. It was quite humbling. Aria was the type of person that admitted her mistakes. She knew that a person could only grow, from doing so.
Over the years she’d become absorbed in the role of being Douglas’ wife . But being a wife wasn’t enough. For any woman.
A woman needed a man that made her feel beautiful, cherished, wanted . Without that, a woman wilted. And as tempting as it was to blame herself for Douglas’ lack of interested, Aria couldn’t fully accept that idea.
If Chase could stare at her like that …with so much hunger in his eyes, then it was hard to believe that she’d been the one lacking. At least, it couldn’t really be all her fault. Right?
Alright. Point proven. Now stop thinking about Chase, Aria.
With a shake of her head, she forced herself back to the present. She had no plans of dating anyone anytime soon. Not for a long, long time.
Hell, she might never trust a man enough to have a relationship again.
None of that mattered. Getting herself back, some sense of identity, that’s what mattered. For her, it would start tonight.
Right. Nodding to herself, Aria spun on her heel and headed straight for her bathroom. She had three hours to finish getting ready before meeting with Hilary.
Aria sat before her vanity staring at the woman staring back. She was wearing the strapless, black dress that Hilary had sent. It pushed up her breasts almost obscenely and she didn't want to like it, but she did.
Her hair was styled as usual, the wavy brown strands falling down her back. She applied makeup, something she rarely did. Her eyes were now smoky, defined, and it
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