Mack changed her mind about wearing what she’d worn to the Tattoo Arts Festival, and by five-thirty that evening, half the clothes in her closet were strewn across her bed, tried on and discarded. Nothing looked just right. Heather might not “do dressy,” and to be perfectly honest, neither did Mack, but she did like to look nice. As an athletic coach, she didn’t get too many opportunities to wear something other than shorts and a T-shirt. And it had been a while since she last made an effort to look nice for someone else. After all, this was a first date.
She finally settled on a long black dress with a princess seam that made her look impossibly tall and drew attention to her titian curls. She wasn’t a huge fan of makeup, but a little black mascara helped brighten her face and made her l
