A year ago Danica had met Fitch outside the rec room dressed like a Golden Coast girl, sunshine and flowers and anything else she thought would throw him off from the start. Nothing was going to have stopped her making that date as hard for him as possible and by the end of the short evening she had been successful. And it had gotten her absolutely nowhere.
Today, Danica wasn't the one looking out of place. Half the island had sunk seamlessly into the depths of lunacy and there Danica stood with her usual polish and finesse, hair up, six inch heels on and a clutch in her hand. Considering Fitch hadn't made any plans the last time, she hadn't dressed for anything in particular but had made more than the average effort. The most expensive thing on her was to be smelt, not seen though.
The day had begun by being prevented from murdering mangoes and inappropriately hugged by her brother's boyfriend, so Fitch had a lot of leeway before the evening could be classed as officially worse than the morning.
Standing at the top of the Compound steps, she crossed her legs and glanced down at her dress, fiddling with a ruffle. She wasn't nervous exactly but despite her years, this was one situation she didn't have much experience in.
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