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The dress is sewn with silk, and It has been beaded subtly along the sleeves and bodice, with a figure-flattering silhouette framing the hips and flowing gently to the floor. It's beautiful, but it's not me.
"I see. Not a red girl?” Mark says, his voice light.
I shiver. “No. Not at all.”
“In that case, what do you think of the black?" Mark asks. He's holding up a black dress that's a lot simpler but still doesn't look any less expensive.
The dress shimmers in the light, it's a classic boat neck inlaid with sequins and made of delicate lace. It moves fluidly even as Mark holds it up for me to see. The iconic interlocking GG logo has been subtly weaved into the fabric.
It's gorgeous.
I sigh. “No. Unfortunately I’m morally opposed to Gucci.”
Mark’s eyebrows gather in surprise. “No one is morally opposed to Gucci.”
“Literally everyone in my world wears it. What else?”
He holds a hand to his chest. “Madam. I believe that I need time to recover from the dismissal of the greatest designers on earth.”
I smile. “Come on, Mark. You’re good at this, right?”
“The best,” he says dryly.
“What else?”
Mark sighs. He turns and rifles through the clothing rack, muttering to himself. Rosa catches my eye. “Seriously?”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “I might be Xander’s wife, but I’m my own person. I want him to know that. I want everyone to know that,” I say, emphasizing everyone with intention.
Rosa shakes her head. “Your funeral.”
“Maybe,” I mutter. “Even more reason to wear whatever the hell I want.”
She’s quiet after that.
Mark finally turns. He holds out two options. “Okay. Pick,” he says, clearly annoyed.
I stand to examine the dresses. One of them catches my eye, and I grin.
“That one.”
Mark leaves the room. Rosa helps me into the dress, and when he returns, I’m all smiles in the mirror.
Mark whistles. “Wow. Okay, you called it.”
I smile in the mirror. It’s a champagne silk dress that’s got a slit on it so high, there’s no way I can wear underwear.
The bust is tight, pushing my breasts up so they’re on display, and the waist nips in, emphasizing the curve of my waist.
It’s borderline indecent.
And it’s going to drive Xander absolutely nuts that everyone is looking at me in it.
Rosa stands behind me. “He’s going to lose his shit.”
“I’m counting on it.”
She laughs, and for a second, I see the respect gleam in her eyes. “Good luck, Miss.”
