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“Oh, Zack!” She was exasperated. “Of course not! I like him, and he’s great fun. Even through his clowning, though, I saw that he was sad.”
“Yeah. I think he overcompensates by being a cutup.”
“It’s so tragic,” Camille murmured. Secretly, she was jealous of the obvious love Rick had for Laura. Zack would never look at her with such warmth and affection.
“I take it that your date with Rick is off for tonight?” Zack asked the question lightly, and Camille joined his laughter.
“Yes, I guess it is,” she answered as they walked down the broad, brightly lit aisles of the mall.
“What did you need, Camille?”
For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what she had been going to shop for. It had been an unnerving afternoon. “It… I… some clothes,” she stammered.
“Okay.” He took her arm and led her to one of the best ladies’ shops in the mall. When she demurred, he said gently, “You’re not on a working girl’s budget anymore, Camille. If I think you can afford it, you can.”
Under the careful, experienced advice of the gracious saleswoman, Camille tried on several sportswear outfits. She was conscious of Zack’s detached inspection as the woman suggested that she model each ensemble for him. She selected a navy wool blazer, camel skirt, and ivory crepe shirt.
“I think I’ll take this, Zack. It’s practical and easy to wear.” She had been shocked at the price tags, which she had conscientiously, though secretly, checked.
He nodded his approval, but asked, “Didn’t you like the yellow skirt and sweater?”
“Yes, they were lovely, but—”
“And the green pantsuit with that shiny… silk?… blouse?”
“Well, yes, I like them all, but—”
“Did they fit you?”
“They fit her beautifully. She’s a perfect eight,” the saleswoman interjected, beginning to anticipate a larger sale.
“We’ll take them all then,” Zack told her, ignoring Camille’s astonished look. “Have everything pressed and delivered to Bridal Wreath.”
“Yes, of course. You must be Mr. Prescott! I’ve read about you in the society pages.”
Zack looked annoyed but said, “This is my wife—”
“So, you and Mrs. Hazelett finally married!”
Camille blushed to the roots of her hair and Zack’s face was lived with anger as he answered the woman in cold level tones. “No. This is my wife, the former Camille Jameson of Atlanta. We’ll expect the clothes the first thing Monday morning or cancel the purchase.”
The saleswoman was aghast at her mistake and tried desperately to make amends. “Surely, Mr. Prescott. I’ll… We’ll… I’m happy to have your beautiful wife shopping in my store. Her taste is excellent. We’ll send a bill with the clothes. No need to worry about it now.”
“Thank you. Camille, I’ll wait outside while you’re changing.”
After she had changed and thanked the flustered saleswoman once again, she left the shop and spotted Zack standing beside one of the fountains in the center of the mall. He had one foot propped up on the low wall of the pool, his hands crossed over the raised knee. He was talking and laughing with two young girls. One of them was a dazzling blonde with big bosoms shamelessly displayed under a tight pink sweater. Camille flushed hotly with jealousy. Zack was reacting with obvious appreciation for the girl’s endowments. He saw Camille out of the corner of his eye, and, saying good-bye to the girls, walked over to take her arm.
They had taken only a few steps when Camille said scathingly, “I see that you managed to amuse yourself while you were waiting for me. I’ve never understood why men find such vulgar women attractive.”
He threw back his head and laughed lustily, squeezing her arm. “Jealous already? Here we’ve been married only a few hours and you sound like a shrewish wife.”
His amusement made her even angrier. “Well, if you must flirt, you could at least choose someone closer to your own age! They were hardly more than girls.”
He laughed again even harder. “I’ve known those women for most of their lives, and the one with the breast is older than you, dear heart.”
“Oh,” Camille replied, embarrassed and refusing to meet his eyes, which were twinkling with humor.
It had grown dark while they were in the mall, and, as they traversed the parking lot toward the car, Camille’s stomach growled loudly with hunger.
