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A dress? Not sure what I need to wear, to be honest. I brought five or six dresses with me, anyway, since they’re so versatile. I mean, you never look wrong in a dress the way you can look wrong in jeans or a tracksuit or scrubs or whatever. Also, you only have to pick out one thing instead of two or three. And, hey, sometimes I don’t even bother with the bra.
Hmmmmmmmmm. This shop appears to be lingerie.
I push open the door and swing inside, breathing deeply the lavender- and vanilla-scented air. I’ve never seen a lingerie shop like this. The most glam I’ve ever seen is Victoria’s Secret, but this is something else. Delicately I finger the stack of silk drawers on the table. They’re decidedly old-fashioned, yet completely alluring. Next to them is a camisole with peekaboo lace over the bust. Tiny pink flowers dot the straps.
“May I help you?” comes a voice.
A giantess strolls over to me, her hands folded in front of her crotch as though to accentuate it. My eyes travel over her outlines from toe to top. She’s a superhero. My mouth goes dry.
“Um? I don’t know?”
She tips her head and stares at me kindly.
“Many things here are French. Everyth
ing is handmade. We have several designers who will work with you if you have… Special requests. Do you know what you like?”
I nod dumbly, dazzled by her beauty. Her caramel-colored hair hangs like a fringe over her unlined brow, tickling the tops of her eyelashes. Jeez.
“I know what I like, but… I’m not sure? What he likes?”
She tips her head back and laughs, a musical array that sounds like it was composed for her especially.
“I understand completely! Now, let me get a look at you, darling. Just to size you up. I will find you something irresistible.”
Irresistible, I repeat to myself. Yes. That’s exactly what I need.
In the dressing room, I just stare at myself in awe. Everything fits perfectly. Even the garters, which I never thought I was tall enough to wear. Even the brassiere, which apparently I have been doing wrong my entire life. This thing actually holds my breasts like a couple of sentient hands. It’s magnificent.
I swish my weight from side to side, watching how the black lace glitters subtly. I can imagine swaying like this in front of the brothers, mesmerizing them like a cobra, enchanting them like a witch.
“Miss?” the woman asks me through the heavy velvet drape over the dressing room door.
“Oh, I’ll take it all,” I breathe, tasting how delicious that phrase is in my mouth.
I’ll take it all, I repeat to myself silently. I’ve always wanted to say that!
“Wonderful!” she coos.
But when she rings me up, it still burns a little bit. Six thousand dollars? For underwear? I feel bad. Is it too much? I mean…
“You’re going to be so beautiful, no man will resist you!” she says, holding her hand out as I place the Black Card into it.
But my heart is racing just a little bit. I figure I can return it all, right? I mean, it’s got to have tags on it and a receipt and stuff. I am sure that rich people return stuff all the time!
When I return to the hotel, I hold my head up high with my fancy paper bag in my hand. My heart stops when Spencer raises a hand from the bar, motioning me over.
I feel like I’ve been caught stealing cookies. I feel just terrible and bow my head, trudging over guiltily.
Dropping the bag on a chair, I just sigh and shrug at it.
“I’m sorry,” I explain quickly. “I didn’t really know what my limits were. And I really didn’t know what it was all going to cost…”
“What?” he asks, looking somewhat hurt.
I gesture at the bag. “I could take it all back, I’m sure. It’s not too late. I just bought it!”
I fish in my handbag and pull the Black Card out, holding it out to him.
