“How can you say that?” Mel says exasperated. This is the seventh dress, the seventh pair of shoes, the seventh set of accessories that I’ve put on over the last hour and a half. “Look at how tiny her waist looks in that thing. That is THEE dress.”
Marty gets up and stands next to me. I’m on a little riser, standing in front of a mirror. The shop attendant looks at me, but says nothing. Marty points to my hips, “True enough, but it does nothing for this region and her boobs! My God, she looks like she’s nursed sixteen children. The braless look is for girls with falsies, not our Avery.” Marty gestures at my cleavage in this dress, or lack thereof. I look down. Okay, maybe he’s right. “A good dress doesn’t sacrifice one asset for another.” He snaps his fingers at the attendant. “Next please!”
“You’re such a drama queen,” I say as I step off the box. I add, “And stop snapping at the girl like she’s a labradoodle. She hates you enough already.”
He bats his eyes at her. “Sorry love. I just get so excited. You’re doing a smashing job. Keep up the good work.”
The attendant, Amanda, smiles and nods, but I’m sure she picturing strangling Marty in her mind. “I’ll get the next dress you chose. Just leave that one in the dressing room for me and I’ll put it back.”
I nod and traipse into the dressing room. I unzip the dress and pull the supple fabric over my head before putting it back on the hanger. I’m standing in my undies when my phone buzzes. I wouldn’t have heard it if I wasn’t in the dressing room. I pick it up and recognize the number. It’s Miss Black. Immediately, my heart starts to pound and hope fills my chest.
“Hello?” I say, answering the phone with a swipe of my finger. I’m so excited, so terrified. I want the perfect dress for Sean. I can’t wait to hear when our next date will be. Sean made is sound like we’d be seeing a lot of each other.
“Miss Stanz, good evening.” Miss Black sounds the same as usual. It’s hard to read her emotions. Maybe she doesn’t have any. “I’ve contacted Mr. Ferro and wanted to call and tell you the results of our conversation. As I suspected, he is no longer interested in using our services.”
A rush of air leaves my lungs and I sit down hard on the puffy seat inside my dressing room. “You told him that it’d be me?”
“Yes, I did. He was rather adamant that he no longer wishes to pursue the arrangement with you, even after I told him that you requested we call to correct this situation. I’ll find you another match. Give me a little time and we’ll have you all set. I’ll call you when everything is ready. Have a good evening.” And then the line goes dead. I stare at my phone. I feel like a hollowed out pumpkin. I put my head between my hands and try to collect myself.
Black’s words bounce around in my mind. It isn’t for a few moments that I realize what they meant—Sean didn’t want me. He rejected me. Worry pinches my face as I wonder what I did. Why would he say no? The other night, everything seemed perfect. I don’t understand why he would do this. I thought he liked me.
There’s a knock on my door. Amanda’s voice makes me jump. “I have your next selection here.” She opens the door and hangs the dress on a hook. When she turns to look at me, her smile falls. “Are you all right? You look ill.”
“I’m fine,” I manage to choke out. Pushing away the feelings bombarding me, I plan to fake my way through the rest of the night. I hand her the dress that made me look flat and pull this one on. It’s deep blue with silver stitching along the hem. There’s a thin belt at the waist and a neckline that dips into a deep V. The skirt hugs my hips before it flares at the thigh. It’s sexy and cute, all in one dress.
Zombie-like, I wander into the center of the store and show the dress. There’s a fake smile plastered on my face. Mel and Marty both gasp when I walk out. It’s a good sign.
Marty speaks first, “That is the dress, like thee fuck-me three ways til Tuesday dress.”
Amanda blinks, like she’s never heard a crass word before.
“Will you shut up, fifty shades of gay, and let her show us the dress!” Mel says to Marty, and hops up to look at me. “Spin around, honey. Show off your stuff.” I turn slowly, palms raised while they look me over. “You look hot, Avery. I agree with the drama queen over there. You have to get this one. It’s perfect. Sean will love it.”
I swallow hard and keep the smile on my face. “It’s not for Sean.”
“What?” they say in unison.