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“Ai!” she responds even more cheerfully. “For our most important visitors, we can certainly arrange that. What time would you like your trained childcare to arrive this evening Mr. Cochran?”
“Seven o’clock this evening? Can you recommend a restaurant? We’ve only just arrived and I’m afraid I don’t have my bearings yet.”
She sighs, as if she’s already jealous of food I haven’t even had. “Oh, yes, sir. One of the finest restaurants in the country, Civace, is located just up the street from us. I will call and book you a table. They should have no trouble making space for you.”
The concierge confirms the details and I hang up the phone with a spring in my step I can’t quite explain. I hurry into the bedroom up at the top of the stairs and change into my favorite navy blue, ultra-tailored suit. I hear the front door of the room opening just as I get back to the living room, so I grab a daisy from the vase and put on my best smile before Arie and Chloe can come in. When the door opens, Arie’s jaw drops.
“What do you say to a night on the town?” I ask with a mischievous grin. Arie just continues to stare. Chloe reaches out for me, so I grab her from the stroller and give her a hug. Finally, Arie finds her voice.
“Why are you dressed like that? What happened? How can we go out? It’s way too late for Chloe to go anywhere. And she’s probably exhausted. We’ve been out exploring all afternoon.”
I hold up my free hand with a laugh to stop her nervous train of thought. “It’s all taken care of! I’ve arranged for a babysitter for Chloe, and we’re going to go to the one of the nicest restaurants in Auckland.”
Arie raises a suspicious eyebrow at me. “How could you possibly find a babysitter in Auckland when we’ve been here for six hours and you don’t know anyone? And I’m not sure I have anything appropriate for a ‘nice’ restaurant. I came here to New Zealand with exactly what I moved in with. Which is to say, not much. What would I wear?”
I pick up a brochure off of the coffee table that outlines the services offered in the hotel. “There is a store right downstairs! I’ll give you some money and you can go buy a dress if you’d like to feel a little fancy. We have some time before the reservation, so there is no rush. Find something that makes you happy.”
“Pierce, I don’t know about any of this,” she says, bristling. “You paying me to watch Chloe is one thing, but giving me money for designer clothes is quite another. I’m not comfortable with that.”
I roll my eyes. “Arie, it’s a dress. Not a car. I need to talk to you about some things and I don’t want to do it in a McDonalds. Here,” I say as I hand her a stack of rainbow-colored Kiwi money from my pocket. “Our reservation isn’t until seven, and the babysitter will be here at 6:30. So, go shopping. Have some fun. We’ll be here when you get back.”
Arie looks apprehensive, but she takes the money and nods, and walks out the door like she’s being led to a firing squad. I just shake my head and settle in with Chloe to watch some TV.
That girl has more secrets than a government spy, and I’m going to figure out what they are…
Arie
I step into the posh store on the first floor of the hotel, and immediately, six sets of eyes all turn to me like I am a woodland troll who has wandered into a royal palace. I look down at my torn jean shorts, and baggy button-down shirt, and can’t entirely blame them for thinking I don’t belong here. I clearly don’t. One glance at a price tag confirms that without Pierce’s money, I couldn’t afford so much as sock in this store. One of the salespeople walks up to me with a very condescending look in her eye, and I’m prepared for an exchange that will send me running back upstairs.
“Hello… miss. Are you a guest of the hotel?”
I cross my arms over my chest in a self-conscious move I don’t entirely plan. “Yes, I’m staying in the Bradford Suite.”
The expression on all of the women working in the store changes in an instant. All at once, I have a glass of champagne in my hand, a plate of chocolates in my lap, and a collection of dresses being show to me that there is no way in hell I would ever wear. Hanger after hanger of slinky, lacy, short dresses is flashed in front of me until I feel like Julia Roberts in that rom-com, except in reverse. I’m not sure where these women think I’m going tonight, but it’s clear they don’t intend to dress me for dinner at a nice restaurant.
“Ladies,” I say, holding up my hands, “listen. I am… pretty conservative when it comes to my style of dress. I don’t do well with flashy outfits. Do you have anything a little more… relaxed?”
The women look at each as if I’ve just let the air out of their tires. One sighs and clicks her nails on a glass countertop.
“Well, we just received the new Carolina Herrera collection today. I’m sure there is something in there you would like. Give me a moment.”
She disappears in the back and returns a few moments later with an armful of garment bags. The ladies start unzipping bags, and I see a collection of dresses that are much more my style. The last dress she removes from a bag makes my heart leap out of my chest. I’ve never had this reaction to clothing before, but there is something about this dress that just calls to me. It’s an A-line, tea-length dress with a nude slip, covered by beautiful tulle and mesh, embroidered with black ivy. The jewel neckline gives it a classic look; it looks like something Audrey Hepburn would have worn in the 50s and I love it.
“That one. Can I try on that one?” I ask, pointing to the dress.
“Of course, you can! Looks like it’s in your size, and it will look beautiful on you. We’ll find you the perfect shoes to match, and can we set you up with our makeup person? She can give you a makeover so you look completely sensational for your big night.”
I cringe. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Just the dress and shoes will be fine. I’m not a makeup person.”
The women tsk at me and then two of them begin fussing over getting me in the dress. The third rushes off to the back to find shoes. By the time she comes back, with a pair of Prada pumps in her hand, I’m snugly zipped into the dress, and feel more beautiful than I probably ever have in my life. The women “ooh” and “ahh” over how I look, and I know I’m probably blushing. So, when one of the women jots down something on a piece of paper, then says, “That will be five thousand, one hundred and eight dollars please. New Zealand dollars of course, miss,” I have to try not to turn green with shock.
“I’m sorry, what? How much? I don’t know if I can…”
The woman holding the shoes just smiles at me. “It’s okay, miss. Charge it to the room. I’m
quite sure Pierce Cochran can afford it. And once he sees you looking like that? Ooh la la!” The women all giggle, but I’m confused.
“Wait, how do you know who Pierce is?”
