Chapter 1
Branwen paced around the bedroom in her apartment, alternately trying on clothes and swearing. Turned out that even if she did have any idea of what to wear to a Burns Night Supper, she did not have it in her closet.
The double bed in her tiny bedroom was piled high with just about everything she owned already, which conveniently covered its rumpled and unmade state. Blue jeans and t-shirts. Crepe-like floral blouses her mother was forever buying, probably in hopes that Branwen would eventually dress more like her by sheer repetition.
A blue pantsuit she’d bought herself for a job interview the summer after high school, then promptly outgrew by adding an inch and a whole cup size to her short, slender frame.
Even a few dresses her Welsh grandmother had either mailed all the w
