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The inside looked more like an antique version of a parlor than a store. The high-end furniture mixed with artfully placed pieces looked like the set for a boudoir photo shoot.
“Jake.” A tiny woman about Angelina’s size stepped toward them. “Back to see me again so soon?”
“I brought you a present,” Jake replied. “This is Angelina. She needs your services.”
“A few pieces for a special occasion, or clearance rack panties by the dozen in a plastic bag?”
“The last one.”
The woman cringed. “I see we have our work cut out for us. Budget?”
“Go crazy. She can afford it.”
“Jake,” Angelina scolded.
“Tell me it isn’t true, sweetness.”
“It looks like we are about the same size. Let me get some of my favorite pieces together. Then we can talk budget later. Color preference?”
“Nothing tan, brown, white, or nude,” Jake answered for her.
“Oh,” her eyes lit up. “This is going to be fun.”
Two hours later, Angelina had modeled and purchased more bras and panties than she had ever dreamed of having in her size. She had lingerie. Her, Angelina Davis, with the body of a twelve-year-old boy, bought teddies and nighties and sexy things that made her jaw drop. Nothing came from the little girl’s section. She was in heaven.
She couldn’t work up a smidgen of protest when Jake answered his mother’s video call and showed her what they were doing. Angelina would have proudly strutted down the street in the snazzy little blue bra and matching thong she had on. There was a moment of apprehension when Sam demanded to know why she wasn’t invited to the boudoir party. Jake smoothed it over by telling his mom they would invite her next time. The fall things would be out soon.
Jake surprised her by snapping a picture of her looking over her shoulder as she entered the dressing room. She was wearing a dark red satin nightie that stopped just short of the curve of her butt.
“You can thank me later,” he winked and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Get changed so we can go get you some fries.”
The mention of food had Angelina’s stomach growling. By the time she reemerged from the dressing room, Jake had her bags loaded in the car.
“I want this too,” she said.
“Already added to your bill, paid for, and your card is on file. If you need anything in an emergency, just pick up the phone. We will have it delivered to you.”
Angelina floated blissfully to Jake’s car.
“Look at you,” he teased. “Spa days and shopping. You should have gotten yourself a fairy godman sooner.”
“I am not going to lie, having fairy godmen has its perks.”
“Sweet talker. We need to get moving. Max has been blowing up my phone, wanting to know where we are.”
“Did you send him my picture?”
“Nope. That is for you to send.”
“You want me to send your man a picture of myself in a red nightie?”
“My God. How are you so clueless?” Jake wondered as he cut off a car to merge into traffic.
“You said it,” Angelina cried as she braced herself for an impact that never came.
“You are going to send it to Ben. Show him what he lost. Make the man suffer for what he did to you.”
“Why would I want to mess with a man who has another woman?”
