GoodNovelChapter 691:
“Yeah, Carrie, try it on! What's the harm?” Marina chimed in eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Carrie hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the intricately designed dress in her hands. She couldn't deny
that she liked it—more than she cared to admit. Even if she didn’t take it home, it wouldn't hurt to see how it
looked on her, just this once.
“Alright,” she relented, taking the dress and heading toward the fitting room. The designer gestured courteously
to the others. “Please, followto the lounge. Have a seat, and enjoy stea while you wait.”
It was only then that the group noticed several tall men, standing nearby and partially blocking the aisle. They
moved aside to let the designer lead the way.
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The group followed and had just settled onto the plush sofas in the lounge—cups of tea yet to be poured—when
Carrie emerged from the fitting room. The room stilled. The dress fit her like a second skin, perfectly outlining
her graceful figure. Its bold, rich colors and ornate details, which might have overwhelmed someone else,
seemed to calive on Carrie. The luxurious embroidery and jewel accents shimmered with every step she
took, exuding both elegance and allure.
It was as if the dress had been waiting for her all along.
Kristopher’s gaze locked onto her, his expression betraying a mix of admiration and triumph.
He knew her figure intimately, each curve and contour etched into his memory. It was a familiarity Daxton, with
all his pretenses, could never replace.
Marina clapped her hands in delight. “Oh my gosh, Carrie! If you were born a few decades earlier, you'd have
been the face of the golden age of Hollywood. You're like a model straight off the runway!”
Kyson, standing nearby, leaned toward Marina and asked, “Do you want to try it on if you like it so much?”
To his surprise, Marina shook her head vigorously. “No way! | know my limits. I'm not suited for something so
tic, especially this style. Carrie looks like a model in it, but I'd just look like a flashy parvenu trying too
hard.”
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“Besides,” Marina added with a mischievous grin, “if | wore it after her, it would seem like I'm trying to copy her.
Id rather not set myself up for comparison.”
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The designer smiled gently at Marina. “Not at all. You have a distinct style—more contemporary and edgy.
Dresses with modern elements would complement you better.”
Carrie, meanwhile, studied her reflection in the mirror, her fingers brushing over the fabric. She felt a pang of
reluctance but spoke with quiet resolve. “It’s beautiful, but | prefer something simpler.”
The designer's smile softened, tinged with regret. “That's alright. Perhaps it's just not meant to be. Clothes, like
love, are mysterious that way. Even when everything fits perfectly, sometimes it just doesn’t feel right. The first
impression determines the story. If there's no spark at the start, it’s unlikely to clater on.”
Carrie raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering in her mind. Was the designer secretly working for Kristopher? It
was unsettling how closely her opinions mirrored Kristopher’s.
Kristopher’s grin widened as he seized the moment, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Exactly. If there's no
spark at the beginning, there won't be one later—no matter how many years pass.”
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