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She had a really nice car. A safe, dependable vehicle. Not like the motorcycle I had parked next to Winston’s. We made small talk, and it was awkward as hell, but by the time we were at the shops, she said, “I want to look more like you.”
That surprised me. She definitely didn’t dress like a Diva, but I had my own style, and I was not giving it over to her. Plus, we were in the wrong parts of town to buy those clothes. Still, I could help her. “What about my style do you like? I don’t think it’s you, but we can find you if we know what you’re looking for.”
She looked down at her clothes and said, “I look like a soccer mom or something. I want to look...sexy. Fierce.” She said, “I want them to look at me the way they look at you.”
Ah, she was jealous. Total story of my life. If more chicks looked at me the way dudes did, I’d been a happy girl earlier in my life, but alas, they always wanted to be me, never with me. This one might want both. I was sorta hoping she wanted both. “Got it. Let’s try some stuff on. You got the underwear on lock.”
Why did I say that?
She smiled and then laughed. “My mom.” Then she considered. “Because my dad can’t see it. So much about my life the past four years is making sense now.”
“Cool.” I followed her in. “You wanna explain what that means?”
She looked at me and said, “Yeah. Actually, I do.”
I should stop asking people to explain shit to me. She told me about the possible rape since she couldn’t get her memory to line up, about the hypnosis, and the erasure therapy her father was known for. I was sick to my stomach as she stepped into the dressing room. Rich girl problems. It was the first time in my life I really felt glad I didn’t have those.
I texted the guys and they sent back a picture of them lounging by the pool. Seriously? Fuckers. I was going to suggest we pick up some food on the way back.
“Uh oh.” I heard her suck in a sound as she winced. I looked at the door. She said, “I’m stuck.”
I bit my lips so I didn’t snicker or laugh where she could hear me. “I’ll help.”
She unlocked the door, and I stepped inside the dressing room with her.
Holly turned and said, “I may need to cut my hair.”
“No.” I shook my head. “This might hurt a second, but...see, got it and only...well, you don’t need these. You have plenty.”
I let the strands fall into the little waste basket. It was a bit of a cut where the teeth of that zipper just took the ends off. This was the kind of upscale shop that had a bench, a couple mirrors, nice hooks, and a small table to set things on.
She stepped out of that dress and said, “I still think it’s a keeper.”
I nodded, looked her up and down and asked, “Want to do something bad, Holly?”
“Yes.” She then shook her head. “I mean. Maybe. What did you have in mind? Yes.”
I laughed. I showed her the picture of two lazy boys toasting with beers. Her brow went up and she said, “They just didn’t want to hang out with me today, did they?”
“We aren’t hanging out. We’re shopping. And no. No heterosexual man not shopping for his own purposes wants to come pick out clothes unless you are going to the fancy underwear store.” She still seemed sad. “I was going to see what time they would be back, and we could bring them some food, but now.” I adjusted my phone and the camera and snapped a pic of her ass as she hung that item on the keep hook. “Now I think I’ll make sure they are good and hungry for something else.”
“Like cupcakes?” she asked and turned.
“Okay.” I smiled, snapped a close up of her boobs and sent that too. I set the phone on the table and looked to make sure it would capture exactly what I wanted in that frame. I picked it up and said, “But first, let’s make a quick call. See what kind of cupcakes they want.”
Winston
“Damn.” I looked at the photo of Holly’s ass and showed Storm. He almost spit that swig of beer out. “Right?”
“Send that to me.” He pulled his phone out.
I sent him the next one, too, and he said, “That’s mean.”
“It is.” I laughed. Oh, man Autumn was making us pay for not shopping. I sure could have spent some time looking at...no. No, it still wasn’t worth it.
Autumn’s image popped up for a real-time video call and I answered it only to hear her say, “We’re going to pick up cupcakes.”
Then Autumn put the phone on something, adjusted the view, and Storm said, “What the fuck? Oh no. No. You can’t do that there.”
