I look down at the purple dress I’m wearing and suddenly, I don’t feel quite so chic anymore. It’s pretty and all, but it’s alarming how fast I go from feeling cute and summery to dowdy and unprepared.
“Is it possible to be intimidated by a mannequin?” I mutter as Kolya and I pass one wearing a gorgeous blush tulle skirt and a black crop top with an open back.
“You don’t have to be intimidated by anyone, kiska,” Kolya says, just before the manager of the store walks up to us.
“Oh, f*****g hell,” I mutter again under my breath.
If the mannequin was a runway model, then this woman is an sss queen. She looks like she’s about nine feet tall with her legs making up eighty percent of that height, though I may or may not be slightly exaggerating. Dead-straight platinum blonde hair falls over
