The blue dress was deliberate.
Not the color — the intention behind it. Aurora stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself with the dispassionate assessment of someone evaluating a tool rather than an appearance. The dress was fitted enough to be noticed, elegant enough to be effortless, and the specific shade of blue that sat well against her skin in low restaurant lighting. She looked like a woman who had made an effort without appearing to have made an effort, which was precisely the effect she was going for.
She was going on a date with Ray Carver.
She let the sentence sit in her mind the way she let most uncomfortable things sit — directly, without flinching, until it became simply a fact rather than a problem. This was the plan. She had decided on the plan. The decision had been made with full information and complete clarity, and the only thing left to do was execute it.
She smoothed the dress once, checked the line of it, and picked up her bag.
