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“Quin.” She pointed to herself as she entered the living room. “Will be defrumpifying your closet. As far as the shopping shenanigans go, your Italian hottie is footing the bill, so quit stalling. Shower now, then clothes.”
Rather than argue, I did as I was told, returning fifteen minutes later with my wet hair pulled into a messy bun on top of my head. Grabbing my purse, phone, and jacket, I followed them out the door and down the steps.
To my surprise, Rico was leaning against an idling black SUV, which was illegally parked next to a fire hydrant, his arms crossed over his chest.
“A day of shoppinganda chauffeur?” I quipped.
He grinned. “River calls me her Italian Stal—”
“No,” she quickly covered his mouth with her hand. “Just no.”
Pulling her hand away, he gave her a not-so-brief peck on the lips before opening the back door to let us in. A few minutes later, we were on our way.
I had no idea what a shopping spree with the dynamic duo entailed, but if I thought I was tired before, I was dead wrong. Once we arrived at the mall, they were like two teenage girls who’d been given the keys to the kingdom. I lost count of how many stores they dragged me into after the fourth.
Thinking back, I’d never experienced anything like it…ever. We had a personal shopper growing up. If there was a new outfit, or hell, a new wardrobe to be bought, Mrs. Kenderson was your girl.
Not once, in my thirty years of life, had I been close enough with a group of girls to be able to enjoy a day at the mall. That all changed when I stepped outside my comfort zone and let these two incredible women in. I hadn’t fully explained my childhood, but they had enough information to know it wasn’t good.
By the time Quin declared our trip a success, hours had passed. Somewhere between Macy’s and Victoria’s Secret, River finally explained how Luc had stopped by her shop, given her his coveted credit card, and told her to “sort your girl out.”
We stopped for lunch, which did include a shot of Fireball, before arriving back at my apartment with only two hours to spare before my date with Luc. I was, once again, ordered into the shower because I had “shopper sweat.” Quin’s words, not mine.
Steam billowed out as I opened the door to the bathroom and crossed the hall to where I’d left the girls in my bedroom. My feet stuttered to a stop and my face heated with embarrassment. Lying across my bed in piles were all the baggy clothes from the back of my closet.
“What’s going on here?” My voice quivered as I spoke.
“We’re staging an intervention,” Quin answered while River rolled her eyes.
“Do you trust us, Emory?” River asked.
I nodded without hesitation. She crossed the room, took my hand, and pulled me until I stood in front of the floor-length mirror attached to the inside of one of the closet doors. Then, they positioned themselves on opposite sides of me.
“What do you see?” Quin spoke quietly.
“Us.”
“Look closer, Ems, and remove Quin and me from the equation.”
A lump formed in my throat. It was one thing to know in my head what I looked like, but to say those words out loud was utterly humiliating. Still, these were my friends, my best friends, and I knew they wouldn’t let me fall.
“My stomach has rolls and my thighs sometimes rub together when I walk.”
“Keep going,” they encouraged.
“My hips are too wide and my ass has its own zip code.”
Each time I acknowledged a perceived imperfection, some of the heaviness I’d been feeling for the last few days started to ease, so I went on.
“If I put my head to my chest then I’ve got an instant double chin.”
River snorted. “Me too.”
“My boobs are huge.”
“Okay, stop right there,” Quin interjected. “I draw the line at boobs.”
“I agree. You’ve said enough, Ems. Now you’re going to listen to whatwesee. Quin?”
