She's Golden

Phase Thirty-One: Dressing to Impress...Again

Author's Note:  The picture represents George's Date outfit, created by quietdaydreamer on Polyvore

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In the back of her mind, she knew she had a winner of a first date outfit, one that was guaranteed to make her mate's eye pop out while simultaneous courting several lusty thoughts.

And yet, she was still overcome with the powerful urge to rip it off, shrieking about how ugly and fat she was while searching for a magically perfect dress that didn't seem to exist.  Nevermind that werewolves were known for their regeneration.  Nevermind that even the most voracious lycantropic eater was maybe "curvy" or considered to have "some meat on them" at worst.  Nothing seemed to bring out the sheer beauty she wasn't quite sure she had in the first place.

Why did picking out clothes have to be so hard?  Especially when it came to dates?  Seriously, George wasn't cut out for this crap.  She wasn't a shabby dresser, but she wasn't a designer-loving fashionista, either.  That title was reserved for Dominic - he might have been a chef, but he was the best-looking chef she knew and any day now, she was sure that Armani himself would sweep him away from his day job and feature him on the runways of Milan.

At least that's what Dominic predicted on occasion.

Forget living life as a wolf! George thought, exasperated.  This first date business is much harder!

True, true, agreed her wolf.  Me have fur. Me no worry about this stuff.  Better naked anyway.  So much fun...

Yeah, she was just going to leave the thought alone.

Why couldn't Dominic be here when she needed him?  George thought for sure that he'd be here dictating everything while dictators themselves sat around and took notes.  But not this time, though she had to admit that he had a very good excuse for his absence.

He'd found his mate again - and tonight, he intended on seeing him.

Hell, he'd probably mate with him too, if he oozed enough machismo and gave the poor sap enough liquor to put down two adult elephants.

He was probably having an easier time chosing his outfit, too, the lucky bastard.  Dominic was so attractive, a veritable Latin Adonis, and she was anything but!  Surely he had a few minutes to where he could give her a little advice and steer her in the right direction.  If he had time to interfere with her love life, then he had a second or two to help with her wardrobe.

"Where the hell is my phone?" George stumbled clothes, shows, and jewelry to her nightstand, quickly dialing up his number.  Lucky for her, he answered on the second ring.  She didn't give him a chance to speak.  "Dominic, it's me!  I know you're busy and all, but I really need your help!  I'm a hot mess here, I don't know what to wear that doesn't make me look fat -"

"Girl, stop being a whiny little bitch!" The force of Dominic's voice dried her tears in an instant.  "Get your brown motorcycle jacket, those brown gladiator boots you got earlier this year, and that green hippie mini-dress with the pretty embroidery that you never want to wear because you're a prude!  Put your hair a messy cute little bun because I know you didn't straighten it, get your classic brown coach purse and for God's sake put some perfume on, preferably that one I get you just yesterday because Julian just loves lavender and vanilla on you.  Got it?"

"Umm..."  She could barely bring herself to speak, let alone comprehend what was happening.  "Y-Yeah, okay."

"Good, now stop crying and start laughing.  Enjoy your fate with your mate, the first one is always the most memorable.  And don't call me back until that boy is marked and you are sated.  Just go and have fun."