Page 36 of Reformation

Garrett: What!? You aren’t making the world a better place by donating your time at the local spaghetti dinner to benefit those affected by the inch of snow we got last week?

Paige: You, sir, are not funny. Besides, they already had enough volunteers.

Garrett: Is there really…

Paige: You’ll never know now, will you…

Garrett: What happened to my dear, sweet kindergarten teacher friend who would never dare make fun of a man who almost died.

Paige: She’s gone. She’s been replaced by someone who is tired of hearing horrible pickup lines.

Garrett: It’s not my fault you took me to a clothing drive. How was I supposed to keep the line about being boyfriend material to myself?

Paige: Easy, don’t talk.

Garrett: That’s no fun.

Paige: Is there a reason you texted me?

Garrett: There was. Now I don’t know if I want to ask you to help out. Even though I think it’s right up your alley.

Paige: Oh really? You know what’s up my alley?

Garrett: I would just like to point out that right now would be a perfect time for me to make an inappropriate joke about me and your alley. But I’m not. Look at me. I am growing.

Paige: *eyeroll emoji*

Garrett: You don’t appreciate my humor. But I do know your alley (see, I resisted again!). You would not only be doing me a huge favor, you’d be helping out Boomer and Kelly. And did I mention it’s a benefit for a cancer charity?

Paige: Dang you. You do know my alley. What do I need to do?

Garrett: First, I really need you to tell me why you don’t curse. Damn isn’t that bad. Second, I need you to meet me at Kelly’s boutique tomorrow after school. I’ll explain everything then.

Paige: What are you getting me into, Garrett Dixon?

That was how I got Paige to Kelly’s boutique on Thursday afternoon. Should I have told her the whole truth? Maybe. In my defense, I knew I couldn’t tell her exactly what I was asking her to do over a text message. She’d try to come up with a million reasons why she couldn’t do it, even if it was for charity. I knew once she was here, she wouldn’t say no. Because A: She is too good of a person, and B: You try telling Kelly Hoffman no.

It’s impossible. Believe me, I tried.

I failed.

So did Paige, which is why she’s giving me a death glare as Kelly is telling her about modeling one of her boutique dresses in front of three hundred socialites at a champagne brunch this Sunday.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to… model… a dress… in heels… in front of strangers?” she says it so slow it’s like she’s trying to repeat a foreign language. I’d laugh, but I’m afraid I’d get another one of her mean looks.

I now know why her students listen to her. Underneath her no cursing facade, Miss Blackstone can be scary.

Any other woman I know would love to play dress-up for a day and try their hand at modeling. Hell, Charlie was all about it when I asked her to help. But as I’ve learned, Paige is not like all women. She’s modest. She doesn’t like attention. She barely wears makeup and I doubt she has a standing hair or nail appointment at a high-end salon.

So this? It might not bedirectlyup her alley. But it’s for charity. And, selfishly, I want to see Paige in one of Kelly’s dresses. Specifically, the one Kelly is holding up to her right now that I can tell doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

“I can’t wear this!” Paige shrieks. “Kelly, I’d love to help you in any way I can. I just don’t think you want me…”

Paige’s words trail off as Kelly pushes her to a fitting room.

“You can and you will,” Kelly says, giving Paige a shove before locking her in. “Trust me.”

I laugh as Kelly turns around, a devilish smile on her face.

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