"I think this is it!" Dhakiya said.

Martier rolled her eyes. She'd heard the same thing at least once a week. She looked at the dress that her friend was holding up against her body and could have sworn that it was one that Dhakiya had already selected and rejected. She feigned interest and found the words to tell her everything she liked about the dress and to downplay any of Dhakiya's concerns. And then she remembered why it had been rejected—the price-tag.

Dhakiya ...