62 pairs of shoes
18 pairs of boots
167 blouses (hangers)
29 jackets/blazers
49 pairs of slacks (hangers)
16 pairs of jeans (can be folded)
28 pairs of shorts (16 are linen or silk blend/prefer hangers)
48 sweaters (can be folded)
37 dresses (not full-length)
24 gowns
36 purses
26 belts
8 yoga pants/shorts
10 exercise tops
21 swimsuits
I’ve excluded personal items like jewelry, lingerie, etc., which have a home in my dresser or safe.
Looking forward to seeing the plans. Thank you for agreeing to build this for me.
Best,
Cat
Cat’s finger hovered over the Send button. She reread her draft for the fourth time, envisioning Hank’s eyes bulging upon receipt. No doubt he’d judge it—and her—as wasteful and indulgent. But as a model, her image mattered.
With gossip sites waiting to mock celebrities at any opportunity, Cat couldn’t be too careful about her appearance. What set her apart from other, younger models was her good taste off camera. Of course, she loved her designer clothing and accessories, too. Honestly, what woman didn’t—Vivi excluded?
Sadly, her outrageous wardrobe would reaffirm Hank’s opinion of her as a spoiled princess—an impression she wanted to overcome because, despite everything, she cared about his good opinion.
She squeezed her eyes shut and hit Send. When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t believe the screen hadn’t detonated. Sighing, she closed her laptop and went to Esther’s to deliver the groceries she’d picked up earlier that morning.
Esther greeted her with a smile, exuding warmth that always improved Cat’s mood. She ambled to the woman’s kitchen—one that hadn’t been updated in twenty-seven years—to unpack the three bags of food.
“Thank you, dear.” Esther shuffled toward her purse without the aid of her walker. “What do I owe you?”
“Forty dollars,” Cat lied, substantially discounting the cost. No one could replace Cat’s mother, but Esther’s affection and wisdom provided a quasi-maternal relationship she craved. A friendship well worth the weekly stipend she extended.
“You must be a whiz with coupons.” Esther held out the cash. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Cat tucked the bills in her back pocket. “So, what kind of tea are we testing this afternoon?”
“Oriental Beauty, a fancy oolong tea.” Esther gestured toward the teapot.
The delicious floral and peach aromas wafted into the air as Cat poured them each a cup. She then followed Esther into the living room and sank onto a tufted, pale-blue velvet chair.
A busy Aubusson carpet covered the parquet flooring in the living and dining rooms. Ornate, gilded mirrors and picture frames hung on the original plaster walls and matched the antique furnishings. The area basically looked like a botanical garden tinged with gold, and smelled like baby powder. Although Cat preferred sleek design and an absence of clutter, Esther’s fussy apartment reminded her of her grandmother’s home, where she and Jackson built living room forts with sheets and pillows, and snuck into the attic to pore over her old records and magazines.
Esther had already set out a bowl of mixed berries and a plate of shortbread cookies, one of which Cat dipped into her tea. Not as tasty as the cinnamon-spiced cocoa and churros she and her mother used to share, but they inspired a similar sense of peace and well-being.
“Did that handsome Hank solve your closet problems?” Esther’s rheumy blue eyes glittered to life.
“You were quite the flirt. Gives a new meaning to the term ‘cougar,’” Cat teased. “But yes, he’s going to design and build a custom armoire unit in my bedroom. I’m pretty excited.”
“I’d be excited if he were spending time in my bedroom, too.”
Cat choked, spitting out a bit of her tea. “Esther, you’re naughty!”
“What woman isn’t a little naughty now and then?” Her distant smile hinted at a fond memory. “I’ve always appreciated fine-looking men. Your Hank is a looker, and he’s kind. A keeper.”
“First of all, he’s not my Hank. Secondly, he is nice. Maybe too nice, actually.”
“Only foolish women think there’s such a thing as a man who’s too nice. You’ve never struck me as foolish, Cat. My husband wasn’t nearly as handsome as Hank, but his thoughtfulness kept us married for over fifty years.” Esther sipped her tea to soothe her scratchy voice. “So why isn’t he yours? Does he already have a girlfriend, or is your brother opposed?”
“I doubt Jackson would care.” Cat put her cup down and sighed. “As for Hank’s love life, I don’t know if he’s dating anyone. At David’s wedding, he spent time with a girl named Amy. But the other day I heard him talking on the phone to someone named Jenny. In any case, he’s no longer interested in me.”