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When she’d called Hannah’s number, however, her twin sister, Hallie, had answered instead. It made sense given Hallie was Hannah’s manager. Presley explained her predicament and was surprised when Hallie invited Presley to her apartment to “peruse” her closet. Presley hadn’t wanted to be rude, so she accepted the offer, even though she doubted she’d find anything she liked from Hallie’s neutral, conservative wardrobe. But she drove over there anyway, racking her brain for a way to politely decline when she didn’t find what she was looking for.
Now, Presley stood in the closet of Hallie’s first-floor apartment gawping at the clothes in front of her. On one side of the walk-in was what she’d expected: neutrals and black, demure hemlines and classic, timeless style.
On the other side hung the antithesis of “demure” and made her wonder if Hallie had a split personality. The clothes on the left were high-end, some with tags dangling from the sleeves. Some had sequins, others lace. Long formal dresses best suited for awards shows and shorter skirts perfect for a nightclub. They were in rainbow order, ranging from vivid reds and pinks to warm peaches and orange. Vibrant yellow to autumnal mustard to spring green, and sky blues fading into moody purples and plums. Beneath the gowns were rows of shoes in every color, size, shape and style.
“Wow,” Presley muttered. What else was there to say?
“Hannah gives me the castoffs from her sponsorships. She receives tons of clothes from designers and companies who beg her to be photographed wearing them. She helps them sell a lot of clothes that way.”
Presley stroked the skirt of an emerald green dress. The fabric was exquisite. “I can imagine.” She frowned over her shoulder at Hallie, a copy of Hannah with her pert nose, warm hazel eyes and wide, sensual mouth. She wore a plain beige wrap dress and white sneakers, her blond hair in a braid down her back. Her style was understated, but she was every bit as beautiful as her sister. “You don’t wear any of these?”
She shook her head and offered a small smile. When she did, a pair of dimples punctuated her cheeks.
“You have dimples.” Presley hadn’t noticed before. “Does Hannah?”
“Just me.” Hallie blushed. “Dimples are a genetic defect. It makes sense that Hannah doesn’t have them.”
Presley wanted to hug Hallie and assure her there wasn’t anything defective about her, but she didn’t know the other woman well enough. She didn’t want to make Hallie uncomfortable, but she couldn’t keep from touching the other woman’s arm in a show of support. “Most men would argue the defect thing. Dimples turn them into puddles. They melt at the sight of them.”
“Really?” Hallie’s smile lost some of the caution it held before. Presley wondered if there was a guy in particular who’d popped into the twin’s head. She didn’t have a chance to ask before Hallie went on to say, “Back to the task at hand. I may not look it, but I know how to dress for a nice dinner. I used to help Hannah before she hired a professional stylist.”
Hallie slid a dress aside and then another, plucking down a red one and then a green one and taking turns holding them in front of Presley. This went on for another five minutes before Hallie decided they were done browsing.
“This one.” Hallie’s dimples reappeared as she pressed the hanger to Presley’s front. “This is it. I’m sure of it.”
Presley faced a tall mirror in the closet and tried to imagine herself in the gorgeous dress. Tried to imagine how Cash would react to seeing her wearing it. “It’s not too much?”
“No way. Try it on. I can do minor alterations if needed. And please tell me you wear a size eight or eight-and-half shoe?”
“Eight,” Presley answered.
“Perfect.” Hallie bent to the shoe rack while Presley stepped into the adjoining bathroom and pulled on the very expensive, very finely made, very beautiful dress that Hallie had chosen.
As luck would have it, it fit like a glove.
So did the shoes.
