Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(3)

The clothing was all paired together into outfits. I would have been more grateful for that convenience if I hadn't known that it had to be the work of Jackie. I wasn't exactly a fan.

I quickly picked out a comfortable looking azure blue, silk dress. I tried not to even look at the label, but it didn't work, since the Armani Collezioni tag practically jumped out at me.

I donned my bra and panties, pulled the decadently soft fabric over my head, and fell instantly in love.

It was beyond comfortable, and actually looked great to boot. It hugged my curves in the most flattering way, without being the slightest bit tight. And unlike most of the clothing I usually tried on, it was made for my height, the proportions just right, not too short in either my torso or legs. Apparently there was something to spending a fortune on clothing. Of course, most of the clothes I'd owned previously never cost more than twenty dollars, tops …

There was an entire section of the closet devoted entirely to shoes and I went there next. My mouth curved and my heart warmed as I saw what James had done there.

There were nothing but wedges and running shoes. Of all the things he'd purchased for me in this monstrosity of a closet, I thought that this was the sweetest. I'd made the barest mention to him once that the only shoes I liked were wedges and running shoes, and it was apparent that he had been listening.

All of the women's shoes were peeking out of boxes, and all of the boxes were marked with yellow tags sporting numbers in big red letters. My brow furrowed. The tags on all of the clothing had the same thing. I reached back with a sigh, carefully trying to rip off the tag at my back without causing damage to the lovely dress.

My brow furrowed as I saw the number 543 listed on the tag. I studied the rows of shoeboxes, my eyes eventually finding a matching number there. I sighed, my mouth twisting wryly, as I saw the system that had been set up. Jackie apparently didn't trust me to pair my shoes and clothing without help.

Part of me wanted to ignore her not so subtle suggestions and just wear whatever I felt like wearing, but she was a professional shopper, and I barely ever shopped.

I decided gamely to give her recommendation a try. Why not? If I hated the shoes she'd picked, I'd just wear something else.

I opened the box to find a pair of yellow, Prada patent-leather wedges with a peep toe and a smart little leather bow. I thought they were adorable.

I put them on and found that Jackie knew her stuff. As a bonus, they were comfortable and easy to walk in.

I went a little heavy with my eye makeup, going for a smoky eye, but I thought it worked. I was liberal with the black mascara, and went with my usual lip stain and soft pink gloss. I was pleased with the end result. I had taken longer than usual with my makeup, but it had still only taken ten minutes, which gave me a solid ten minutes for my hair, which only needed a quick blow-dry. I gave myself a quick once over, noting that the haircut had been a very good idea for me. Straight blonde bangs now framed my face, bringing out my eyes until they were an almost startling, pale aquamarine.

I was running right on time when I heard a knock on the bedroom door. I opened the door, thinking that it had to be Marion. I was less than thrilled to look down at Jackie. She smiled at me.

She eyed me up and down, smiling as though she hadn't already clearly expressed how much she disliked me. "Very nice. Armani fits you well. I'll make a note of it."

My face had schooled into a carefully blank expression at the sight of her. I just couldn't make myself smile back at her, but I would manage to remain civil. "I'm in a hurry, if you'll please excuse me … "



       
         
       
        

She held up a finger. "One thing. I set up your bag collection in the fitting room. James hates clutter and they take up a lot of room, so this seemed like the best option. Come right this way."

She strode off without waiting for my agreement.

I followed unenthusiastically, determined to see what she was talking about and get on my way in a timely fashion.

She led me to the guest bedroom I had used just a few days ago to try on dresses. The large closet now had roughly half of it devoted solely to handbags.

I groaned.

Jackie shot me a look. It was very nearly hostile. "You don't like bags?" she asked incredulously.

I grimaced. "I like some of them, but clutches are not happening for me. I can't stand having to hold something all the time. I need something with a long strap."

She made a noise of pure disgust, but didn't waste any time selecting a bag for me. She thrust a large, cream-colored leather satchel-style bag in my direction.