“Besides,we need help selling our T-shirts." He picked out one of the smallest ones that had been drying on the counter and held it up to me, playfully assessing the look. "Nik. All you need to do is wear this tonight, and we'll sell out."I glanced down at the shirt and then back up at Cole. "Yeah,I'm sure this is the look you were going for.""You can make anything look good," he said softly.”

“Nik. All you need to do is wear this tonight, and we'll sell out."I glanced down at the shirt and then back up at Cole."Yeah, I'm sure this is the look you were going for.""You can make anything look good," he said softly.”

“Hey,Nik."I turned around to see Cole, dressed head to toe in black. Black suit, black shirt,black tie hanging loose around his neck.He looked me up and down. His gaze paused briefly on my legs, and his mouth opened slightly. I folded my arms."Um...you...look beautiful," he said."You look black," I replied."Thank you.That's the look I was going for." He held a hand out. "C'mon. Let's dance."I didn't move. "What were you going to show me?""Dance with me first."I shook my head."Look,Nik, I know you don't like public scrutiny lately. If you stand off to the side,all mopey and such, without a date,you'll stick out like a nun at a strip club." He leaned in. "Trust me, I've seen one. A nun at a strip club, that is.Everyone was staring at her.”

“Lou didn't need to tell me, Luce," he said, looking between me and the field. "I don't need someone to tell me when my girl's in the stands. I could pick you out even if I was playing in the Superdome and you were tucked into the back row.”

“Are you Darah, Renee or Taylor? You look like a Taylor to me," he said, looking me up and down. I wasn't at my best, considering I was dressed for moving heavy objects in a blue UMaine t-shirt and black soccer shorts, and I had my light brown hair in a haphazard bun against the back of my neck. His eyes raked up and down twice, and for some reason the way he assessed me made me blush and want to kick him in the balls at the same time. "There must be a mistake," I said. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "That's a creative name. What do you shorten it to? Missy?”

“Rochelle," she calls out, still looking at me. "Is there anyone down at the desk? I need something."I'm too startled to move. Is she going to tell on me, get me in trouble?Rochelle's gotten up; she's banging the toilet stall doors open one by one, checking to make sure no one's in there. When the last stall turns up empty, she gives Amanda an annoyed look. "What do you need this time of night?"Amanda smiles at me, then turns to face Rochelle. "A tampon”