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“What chick?”
“That ‘love changed me’ chick. How cliche, right? Can I let you in on a little secret?” she asked, pointing her fork at me. “Women like us, the ‘I got this; I don’t need no man’ women? I think we get so busy living our lives that we aren’t paying attention to the concept of a relationship and the full force of love just completely blindsides us.”
I felt my brows draw together. “I’m not in love with Shane. I barely even know him.”
“I’m just saying,” she shrugged, letting it drop. “So, what is your color?”
“I usually just go for a little black dress for this kind of thing.” In my humble opinion, one carefully chosen LBD could suit you for a multitude of situations. Date? Sure. Job interview? Throw a blazer on top. Funeral? Perfectly suited if you didn’t invest in the clubwhore sort of LBD.
“I mean that’s always the go-to,” she agreed, scooping some rice onto her fork. “But don’t you think it’s sort of the safe bet? Do you really want to be the girl who plays it safe?”
After so many years of fast and loose and dangerous, safe actually did sound kind of nice. “I’m open to suggestions. I just don’t want to look like I’m asking for it.”
“I can do coy. Actually, I think that would knock Shane on his ass. He’s used to the bar sluts in their shorts that the bottoms of their asses hang out of.”
“Any idea where he will take me?”
To that, Fiona smiled a little oddly. “That’s the thing. Shane doesn’t take his women anywhere but his bed or theirs or maybe a hotel if they seem like the clinging sort. This is new for him. But if he’s trying to make an impression, in this town, yeah, he’d take you to Famiglia.”
“Famiglia?” I laughed. “As in… family? That sounds like a mob bar.”
“Close. It’s a mob restaurant,” she said casually, as if that was the most normal thing to find in some mildly coastal Jersey town. “Nothing illegal happens there though. That’s their legit place. It’s nice. Best Italian I’ve ever had and I was a take-away addict in the City so I know all about Italian. And it’s fancy. That’s where he would take a girl on a date if he has any taste. Which, despite appearances, he does.”
“He’s going to bring a date to a nice restaurant on his bike?” I asked, smiling at the idea. “Does he even own anything other than jeans?”
Fee smiled big at that. “See, I like the rough and tough and manly vibe. But let me tell you one thing about these Mallick men, when they clean up, they clean up good. I pretty much have to plan on having a quickie before we leave the house anytime Hunter needs to put a suit on. And Shane has a truck too. Nice big, black one. It should be fun getting up into it in a skirt and heels without flashing him or falling on your face.”
“Love the vote of confidence,” I said, putting my plate on my nightstand, mostly uneaten. “Alright. So, I am your canvas,” I said, standing and throwing my arms out, turning in a small circle for her to inspect.
Fee put her plate down and stood too, an almost shy smile on her face. “This really is as fun as they make it look in the movies,” she declared.
Then she got to work.
She really was something to see in action. She clearly knew more about clothes and what color went with what skin tone and what cut fit what body type better than I could ever learn in a lifetime.
“You can’t be serious,” I said a good twenty minutes later.
“This is the one. Trust me,” she said, holding a dress up to her body. The reason for my lip curl? Yeah, the dress was pink. “It’s not pink,” she objected when I had said just that. “It’s coral. And it is perfect for your skin tone and hair and eyes. Plus, it’s feminine without being all baby pink and obnoxious. Give it a shot. If you hate it, we’ll pick something else, but I think it’s the one.” I took the dress from her and moved into the bathroom, closing the door. “Lose the bra,” she called a second later. “The dress has support and I think your girls are still at the attention-standing stage.”
I smiled, slipping out of my clothes (including my bra, though I never went braless), and shimmied into the not-pink dress. I took a breath and looked in the mirror. And, well, Fee definitely knew what she was talking about. The coral color really set off my slightly tanned skin and my dark hair and eyes. And while the skintight body con style had me a little anxious about the idea of loading up on Italian food with the unforgiving fabric, it did set off my boobs and hips. The straps were a little wider than I thought was in fashion, but I figured was made that way to give boob support. The bodice dipped into a somewhat deep, but thin, V that showed a bit of the skin between my breasts but not nearly enough to be called anything other than classy. Under my hips, the skirt slowly loosened into a handkerchief-style that fell to my knees. Everything about it was casually sensual, not overly sexual.
