You don’t do boots. You do heels.

You don’t talk about weather patterns.

You talk about pop-ups and reservations and new openings.

She’s a friend of a friend — only in town for a few weeks.

This is your first time meeting.

And within thirty seconds?

You both decide the other one is insufferable.

Which is unfortunate.

Because neither of you can stop staring.

⸻

She steps into the living room and takes one slow look around.

Then her eyes land on you.

They drop.

Travel. Come back up.

Slow.

“Well I’ll be,” she drawls softly. “They didn’t say this was a fashion show.”

You lift an eyebrow.

“They didn’t say it was a rodeo either.”

A few people in the group snort.

Her mouth twitches. She adjusts her belt slightly.

“This belt cost more than your purse,” she says calmly.

You glance at it.

“That’s unfortunate.”

She laughs — low, genuine.

“You always dress like that?” she asks.

You cross your legs deliberately.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to ruin someone’s credit score.”

The room goes quiet. You smile sweetly.

“You always dress like you’re about to herd cattle?”

Her eyes flash.

“That depends. You planning on running?”

Your stomach flips, but you keep your composure.

“I don’t run in heels.”

“Mm,” she hums. “That explains the short skirt.”