Song of the chapter: Most Beautiful Girl in the World - Prince

It turns out Eoin was the owner of the club the guys had been invited to perform at later tonight. Rae had recognised his face and the name was a give-away.

"He was totally checking you out, Zoe. I think he likes you," she said, grinning at me. "He's not even that bad looking and I know he's your type. I don't see why you shouldn't try it out."

He was my type, and if he'd waltzed into my life a year ago, I'd have been floored by him; however, I met Mitchell a year ago and I fell in love with him instantly.

I had had the biggest crush on him in high school but I fell for the amazing, gentle and loving side of him that a limited number of people had ever witnessed. Mitchell was turning out to be the love of my life and I was the happiest girl in the entire universe thanks to him.

"I don't know, Rae. Is this really necessary? I mean, he's good looking and everything but I don't see it going anywhere," I started.

"Besides, I just met him and he lives in Chicago for goodness sake. I couldn't cope with the long distance thing." I pouted and fluttered my eyelashes, saying that to garner Rae's sympathy.

"He probably has his own jet and he definitely seems like type that'd fit in New York. He could move for you," she suggested as she rose, clutching her iced tea.

"Rae, we just met the guy and you're already planning our wedding. Will our kids also have his blue eyes or my brown ones?"

Rae just smiled, brushing me off. "Just give it a try, okay? It won't take anything away from you. He's the freaking blonde Colin Farrell for fuck's sake. What more do you want?"

He's not Mitchell and that's what I want, I muttered under my breath.

We stepped out into the hot day, jumping into the nearest taxi cab and she whisked me away to trendy boutique, Alice + Olivia.

"We're going shopping, babe. You're gonna look hot for Eoin, okay?" She really would not let that go, would she?

Rae entered the store on North Michigan Avenue with a mission: to land me "the hunkiest Irishman", she told the shopping assistants.

"Her last boyfriend was French and I think he cursed her because she won't even go on dates anymore," she explained as she and Lacey, the nametag on her pretty blouse read, talked about my situation.

Lacey sympathised and assured Rae that she'd get me into everything worthy of a blonde Colin Farrell.

I sat back on a vintage, green sofa, sipping on fragrant flavoured water offered to me by Lacey while she and Rae racked the entire store searching for the perfect dress.

"I'm not going to prom, you know," I'd shout out to remind them of the seriousness of tonight. "He didn't even ask me out so what's the fuss about?"

"We're setting you up so that he feels obliged to ask you out," Rae yelled over her shoulder, deliberating between two pastel coloured cocktail dresses.

Well, good luck with that. I couldn't wait to watch Mitchell's reaction to this whole situation.

After nearly four hours of playing dress up, they found me the "perfect" dress, a light velvet spaghetti strapped number with two very high slits. Lacey paired it with platform leather ankle boots and a silver collar; the look was complete.

"Go win over the hunk!" shouted Lacey behind us as we left the cosy store.

The truth is I already had.