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Brittany’s pupils turn to dollar signs as she stares at me. “Oh, I didn’t know.”
The other store clerk walks closer. “What’s your name again?”
“Clementine,” I almost say it like it’s a question.
“Yes, well if you need anything, my name is Janet, and this is Brittany.” She points to the blonde standing next to her.
I smile. “Well, Janet, I need a really sexy dress. My soon-to-be husband is taking me to an event tonight.”
“Oh, I bet it’s the charity ball at that art gallery,” Brittany says.
Janet snaps her fingers together. “I have just the dress.” She bounces away with a little dance in her step, calling over her shoulder, “Follow me.”
She leads me to the back of the store, past all the racks of clothing, past two very plush off-white chairs with blue stripes, and even further into the dressing room territory where there’s a row of doors.
“Do I just go on in?” I ask, after she opens one of the doors for me.
“Yes, I’ll bring you the dresses. You’re going to feel like you’re in a fantasy.”
She gets my size and then hurries away. I step inside the pint-sized room with three walls of mirrors and take a seat on the soft-leather club chair. Little does she know, this isn’t a fantasy at all. Yet, that doesn’t stop me from playing out the fantasy late at night.
Ever since I slept in his bed, I keep imagining what it would be like if he kissed me. I keep replaying the evening at our engagement party over and over in my head. The night I changed in front of him. How his eyes ate me. How he couldn’t turn away. How he didn’t even try to hide the fact he was full on staring.
It was sexy.
It was hot.
It made me want to forget the fact I hadn’t been touched in years and I wanted him to rectify that. But, no. Never.
Janet returns with various items draped over her arm. “I brought you three.” She places the first on the bronze hook on the inside of the door. “This one is your basic ‘little black dress.’ An ‘I just want to blend in, but not really’ type dress.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“This one is more ‘Hi, I’m here.’” She hangs a sparkling silver dress on the hook. “And this one is ‘Hey, bitches, this is why I’m going to be having wild sex tonight and you’re not.’” She places a scrap of red material on the hook and winks.
“Thank you.” I laugh a little. “Is that enough to cover me?”
Janet smiles. “It’s enough to cover the important parts.”
After she leaves, I remove my clothes and try on the full length black. It’s stunning—demure, yet not—with a slit that opens all the way up the feather light gossamer skirt to my upper thigh and sheer fabric intermingled throughout the bodice. As I check out my exposed back, my phone vibrates.
I pull it out of my handbag to see a text from Gabriel.
“Find anything? I can make you an appointment with Hannah at Couture. She has things you might like.”
Just how many women does he dress? I would imagine it’s a lot.
“Not yet,” I reply. “I’m trying on things now.”
“Let me see.”
I stare at his request on my phone, and I’m not sure why I comply, but I do. Part of me wants him to see me in this dress. I snap a selfie and send it.
“Damn. Purple bra today?” is his reply.
I glance in the mirror at the lavender bra strap showing across my back. Clearly, I need to learn the art of the selfie.
When I slip into the second option, I remove my bra before taking a picture of the low cut sparkling dress and sending it to Gabriel.
