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“I wasn’t serious about the jeans, Marley.”
“I am.” She reached for the door handle.
“She can’t wear jeans.” Jordan looked from Justin to Marley with alarm. “You can’t wear jeans. You’ll make us look like unprofessional idiots.”
She paused. “I’ll just tell them I spilled something on my clothes or…” she gestured helplessly, “…something.”
“That’s—that’s an outright lie,” Jordan accused desperately. “You said you don’t lie.”
She looked at him. He really didn’t want her to wear jeans in there, did he? Well, she didn’t want to wear this suit. Problem was, he was right; she didn’t lie. Her gaze shifted from him to Justin, and she walked straight for him. Justin took a wary step back, but she followed until they were a foot apart.
“What are you—”
Before he could finish the question, she braced herself mentally, reached under his hand, and tipped his coffee mug so the contents poured down the front of her suit.
“Hey!” He jerked the mug away.
“Justin!” She looked down at her wet clothes, thankful the coffee had been only luke-warm. “Look what you’ve done. Now I have to go change.”
She gave Jordan a smug grin as she left. In the hall, Bonnie caught sight of her.
“What happened to you? Isn’t the presentation in like,” she glanced at her watch, “Fifteen minutes!”
Marley nodded and hurried past. “Meet me in the bathroom in five.” She made the round trip to her truck with a minute to spare and started to change as Bonnie joined her.
“Justin told me what you did. Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.” She stripped off her blouse and realized she should’ve thought the situation through a little better. Her bra was soaked, and she didn’t have another one packed in her bag. “Shit. Now what?”
Bonnie saw her dilemma. “I’d give you mine, but it’d never fit.”
Marley regarded Bonnie’s figure and, for the first time ever, wished her chest were bigger. Turning her back, she removed the wet bra and slipped on the white tee shirt from her duffle before facing the mirror to see her nipples clearly defined. Her gaze met Bonnie’s reflection.
“No,” they said in unison. Marley groaned at her stupidity.
“Finish dressing,” Bonnie instructed. “I’ll go scrounge up a jacket. And, here.” She handed Marley mascara and lipstick. “They’ll never even look at what you’re wearing. Well, after I find you a jacket, that is.”
Without waiting for Marley’s answer, she scooped up the coffee-stained checkered one and disappeared. By the time she came back, the jeans were on, the make-up was applied and Marley had begun to think she’d ruined her entire career with one stinking cup of coffee and dumb-ass vanity. She should’ve dealt with the damn checkers.
Bonnie held out a red-wine colored blazer for Marley to slip on. She buttoned it in front and faced the mirror. Good, it worked. She would even go so far as to say she looked nice.
“Where’d you get this?”
“Shari in accounting is about your size. She said you can give it back tomorrow.” Then she started to pull on the band holding Marley’s ponytail.
She reached to stop her. “I don’t want it down.”
“Twist it up into that knot you do, it’s more sophisticated.”
She did as instructed, then stood impatiently while Bonnie turned her, pulled a few strands free to frame her face, and stood back for a final inspection.
“Great. Much better than the checkers.”
“You didn’t like it either?” Marley asked with consternation.
Bonnie shook her head. “Sorry.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
