Every Kiss(41)
“I can’t.” I turn the light on in my closet and scour the row of dresses. “I don’t have anything to wear to something like that.”
Wes grabs my elbow and drags me from the closet. “Already covered. My mom knows you and Makenna are still in college, so she made arrangements with a dress shop that she uses. You’re to go there sometime tomorrow and pick one of them out. And before you argue with me, she’s not buying you a dress. She does a ton of business with that shop, and they’ve agreed to loan you a dress. I, however, am buying your shoes. Not negotiable. You just pick them out. They already have all of my information.”
I’m floored. “I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet.”
He rests both hands at either side of my neck and looks down into my eyes. “I’m not going to allow you to tell me ‘no.’” He waits for a moment, I think to see if I’ll argue. When I don’t, he pecks a little kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be here to pick you up around four o’clock on Saturday, but you should make sure to have the whole day blocked out. You’ll see why tomorrow. Bye, Cal.”
And he vanishes. While I stare at the open door in stunned silence, Makenna pops into the room in his place.
“So . . . you’re going to the banquet as Wesley’s date. Why am I not surprised?”
“Why am I not surprised that you let him in here, knowing that I wasn’t dressed?”
“Oops.” She smirks. “You’re the one that said you were messing with his head. I’m just being helpful.”
FRIDAYS ARE MY favorite day of the week. I do my classroom observations early in the morning, get out of class no later than two, and then I have plenty of time to read on the quad or go back to my dorm to veg out after a long week. Friday is the beginning of a new weekend, full of promise. Possibilities. But this Friday, I’m dreading all of it. The ridiculously expensive gowns. The people I don’t know.
I look around the dress shop after Makenna and I walk inside, and I immediately feel out of place. Sure, I’ve been in shops similar to this before when I was looking for prom dresses, but this one is a little more upscale. More glamorous. Even the ladies working in the shop look like they’re just as well off as their clients are. It’s a little off-putting, especially since I’m standing here in my usual jeans, t-shirt, and Chucks.
“Good afternoon.” The one in head-to-toe black approaches us, her face completely unreadable. “How can I assist you today?”
“Mrs. Baxter sent us here to find dresses for a banquet,” I answer when Makenna freezes.
“Ah, yes.” Her expression softens as she looks down at her Blackberry. “Callie and Makenna. Follow me, darlings.”
She leads us into a private dressing room, which happens to be the size of our entire dorm, and motions to a platform in front of a semicircle of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. “Please undress, but you can leave on your underthings. There are robes on those hooks over there. Mary Beth with be with you in a moment to take your measurements, and I’ll be back with some coffee and tea for you.”
Makenna and I just look at each other in shock when she walks out the door. This is new territory for both of us, but we do as we’re told and strip. I no sooner than get my robe tied before there’s a soft rap at the door, and two sickly thin women walk in with measuring tapes. One at a time, we’re stripped and measured carefully before the beanpole twins disappear again, probably off to snicker about my twenty-seven inch waist.
Again, I tie my robe and sit down, and I’m just about to tell Makenna how weird this place is, when there’s another knock. This time it’s a dress parade. Five different women rotate in and out of the room adding dresses to the two racks along the wall until each rack is nearly full.
Finally, the last one steps out after explaining which rack is whose, and the one in black reappears with a tray of refreshments. “Would you like some help trying these on?”
“Oh, no,” Makenna finds her voice. “We can help each other.”
“Lovely.” She doesn’t look like she thinks it’s lovely. “If you need some assistance, just press the button by the door. It will alert one of us.”
We both nod and rush to the racks, looking over each one as we get more and more excited. Every single one of them is gorgeous, but I know I’ve found “the one” as soon as I spot it. It’s a full-length strapless gown, slinky black with silver beading across the top of the bodice. The skirt doesn’t bell out; it falls straight, as straight as the slit stopping mid-thigh. With the right heels, this dress couldn’t be any more perfect. And once I try it on, it’s a flawless fit. God, those ladies may be skinny, but they know their dresses.