‘Go try.’ He slaps my bum, and I turn to follow Zoe and the rail into a large fitting room. Zoe’s admiring face doesn’t escape my notice.
For the next few hours, I’m trussed into dress after dress. I count twenty dresses, all of which are stunning and all of which Jesse approves of.
Zoe disappears for a while, leaving me to sit and wonder which bloody dress I’m going to choose. They are all too nice. My head jumps up when she walks back in with another rail of dresses, but these ones are more day dresses and evening dresses, not gowns. I look at her, completely confused.
She shrugs. ‘I’m under strict orders to make you try lots of dresses, so I got these,’ she says as she goes to the back of the rail. She comes back to the front holding the lace gown. ‘And this too.’
‘What?’ I blurt, pushing myself to my feet. I’m in my underwear and gaping like a goldfish.
‘Well,’ She starts towards me, ‘He didn’t say to try this gown in particular, but he did say you must have what you want.’ She smiles brightly. ‘And I know you really want this one.’
‘Zoe, I can’t,’ I stutter, trying to convince my brain that the dress is hideous – disgusting. Damn right awful. It’s not bloody working.
‘If it’s the price that’s bothering you, then don’t worry. It’s within the budget.’ She hangs the dress on the wall hook.
‘There’s a budget? What’s the budget?’ I ask hesitantly.
She turns and grins. ‘The budget is; there is no budget.’
I groan and collapse back into the chair. ‘Can I ask how much it is?’
‘No.’ she replies cheerily. ‘Put this on.’ She hands me a black lace bodice. I start to get myself into it and Zoe turns me around to fasten the row of hook and eyes trailing up the back. I’m distracted from my hesitancy with the thought of Jesse’s face and all this lace. I smile. He’ll orgasm on the spot.
I’m helped into the gown by Zoe and presented to the oversized mirror. ‘Holy shit!’ she exclaims, and then slaps her hand over her mouth. ‘I’m sorry. That was so unprofessional of me.’
Holy shit, indeed. I turn slightly to view the back and gasp a little. It clings to every curve I have perfectly and skims the floor when I raise on tiptoes. The lining under the lace is matt, giving the delicate, intricate pattern a shimmery effect, and the deep neck line is perfect with the cap sleeves sitting just off my shoulders, revealing my collarbones. I hear Zoe scuttle off and return.
She kneels before me. ‘Put these on.’ she instructs. I pull my eyes from the mirror and look down to find a pair of black, sling back Dior heels at my feet. I feel a faint coming on. I slip them on and Zoe stands back. ‘Ava, you have to have this dress.’ she says, deadly serious. ‘Go and show Jesse.’
‘No!’ I blurt rudely. ‘Sorry, I know he’ll love it.’ It’s lace and it’s black. He’ll pool at my feet, I know he will, but what about the slight exposure of flesh? Will that be cause for my neurotic control freak to tackle me to the ground and wrap me in his body to stop anyone from seeing my skin? And, finally, how much does the damn thing cost?
I quickly battle with my conscience over the bloody dress as Zoe hands me a clutch to match the shoes. I want to cry. I knew I shouldn’t have tried it on. ‘Did he see it?’ I turn to face Zoe and she looks at me all confused. ‘This dress, did he see it on the rail when you came back?’ I ask.
‘No, I think he’s gone to the gents.’ she replies. I raise my hand to my mouth and start frantically tapping my front tooth with my nail.
‘Okay, I’m having the dress, but I don’t want Jesse to know.’ I’m taking a risk with this. Zoe claps her hands together, and I smile at her delighted face. ‘What’s all this?’ I point to the additional rail she’s dragged in.
‘He wants you to have lots of dresses.’ She shrugs.
I laugh. He is taking the instant access rule way too far. I get myself out of the dress and have another stab of uncertainty as Zoe takes it and gives strict instructions to a young girl not to let Jesse see it. I start on the other dresses. I’m having three maximum and he better not argue with me.
I work off a million calories getting myself in and out of dozens of dresses. We build up a like, no and a maybe pile, and I’m surprised that I’m enjoying myself. Jesse sprawls back on the sofa and watches as I appear and disappear, wearing a different dress each time.
‘She’s like a clothes horse, isn’t she?’ Zoe muses to Jesse when I appear in a very short, Chloe, grey dress. I love it, but like all of the other dresses that have a price tag of over three hundred pounds, it will go on the no pile.
I watch as his face turns to shock. ‘Get it off!’ he spits, and I return to the changing room laughing. He’s right, I love it, but it is way too short. It could pass for an undergarment.
I’m whacked when I’m finally finished trying everything on. I’ve changed more times in a couple of hours than I have this month. I go through the yes pile with Zoe and get a bit anxious when I realise just how many like items there are. I flick through the rail and try to narrow it down.
‘What have we got then?’ I hear him approach. I cringe.
‘Oh, she’s got some fabulous pieces. I’m very jealous,’ Zoe says. ‘I’m just going to get this all wrapped and bagged for you.’
Oh hell!
I’m even more mortified when Jesse hands Zoe a credit card. She takes it and leaves us alone.
‘Jesse, I’m really not comfortable with this.’ I take his hands and stand in front of him so I have his full attention.
His shoulders sag disappointedly. ‘Why?’ His voice is genuinely hurt.
I watch Zoe disappear with all of my likes. ‘Please, I don’t want you spending all of this money on me.’
‘It’s not all that much.’ He tries to reason with me, but I saw the price tags. It’s way too much, and I don’t even know how much the gown is.
I look down at the floor. I don’t want to get into a row in Harrods over this. I return my eyes to his. ‘Just buy me a dress for tonight. That would be acceptable to me.’
‘Just one dress?’ he asks unhappily. ‘Another five dresses and you’ve got a deal.’
I’m pleasantly surprised by this. ‘Two.’ I counter, anyway.
‘Five.’ he tosses back at me. ‘This wasn’t part of the deal.’
No it wasn’t, but I don’t care how old he is anymore, and I’ve done this meeting in the middle scenario before. I’ve learnt that while I maneuver, Jesse sticks exactly where he started.
I narrow my eyes on him. ‘I don’t care how old you are. Keep your silly little age secret.’
‘Okay, but it’s still five.’ he says acceptingly. I suspect he was never going to keep his end of the deal, anyway. ‘I’ve got to make a phone call.’ He drops a kiss on my lips. ‘You go and pick five dresses. Zoe has my card. My pin is one, nine, seven, four.’
I recoil. ‘I can’t believe you’ve just told me your pin number.’
‘No secrets, remember?’
No secrets? Is he kidding me? He strolls off, and I have a sudden, delighted moment of comprehension. I do a quick mental calculation. ‘You are thirty seven,’ I shout to his back. He stops. ‘Your pin number. You were born in seventy four.’ I can’t help the triumph in my voice. I’ve totally rumbled him. Men are so predictable. ‘You didn’t lie at all, did you?’
He slowly turns and flashes me his signature smile, reserved only for me, before blowing me a kiss and leaving me to go and pick my five dresses.
I walk out of the personal shopping area and find Jesse waiting for me. It didn’t take me long to select my five favourite dresses.
I hand him his card and plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank you.’ I’m not sure whether I’m most grateful for the dresses or for his slip up in revealing that he is actually thirty seven. Either way, I’m a very happy girl.
‘You are more than welcome,’ He takes my bags from me. ‘Do I get another show?’ He raises his eyebrows.
‘Of course,’ I can’t deny him for how reasonable he’s being. ‘But you don’t get to see the gown.’
‘Which one did you pick?’ he asks curiously. He liked all of them, but he didn’t see the gown that is safely out of view in a suit bag.
‘You’ll find out later.’ I inhale him into me as he nestles his face in my neck. ‘So, my man really is knocking on forty.’ I rib.
He pulls away and rolls his eyes before taking my hand and leading me through the store. ‘Does it bother you?’ he asks casually, but I know he’s worried that it does.
It didn’t bother me before and it doesn’t bother me now. ‘Not at all, why does it bother you, though?’
‘Ava, do you remember one of the very first things you said to me?’ He looks down at me.
How could I forget? And I still don’t know where it came from. ‘Why did you lie?’
He shrugs. ‘Because you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t a problem.’