Page 58 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

“It’s as natural to him as breathing. I don’t think he can act any other way with women. So it doesn’t really mean anything.”

April circled me. “Lots of guys think Princess Kate is extremely hot. She’s attractive in a different way, more subtle. That is you too.” She crinkled her nose. “You have pearls, right?”

“Yes, I got them for my sixteenth birthday.” I went over to my jewelry box and opened it. The triple strand was under a mess of worn friendship bracelets, plastic beads, and a silver charm bracelet. I took out the pearls and handed them to April.

“I’m not even going to comment on the fact that you have pearls this beautiful under a heap of junk. But you’re going to start wearing these every day.”

“Every day? Why?”

“You said you wanted a personal style, and I’m helping you develop that. Eventually, when you get used to looking good, you can add your own touches. But for now—soft blue, pearls, and classic shapes are the new you. You’ll look fabulous, and believe me, he’ll notice.”

I nodded happily. Having a plan and a vision, this was something I could understand. The suit did look good. Not as beautiful as my gown, but it was very nice. Meanwhile, April had begun going through my closet. She was muttering, “No, no, no, yes! I knew you’d have good shoes. Oh hello, cashmere twin set. Perfect.”

She pulled out a hanger. “Why are you keeping your school uniform? Are you still getting student prices at the movies? Or are you hoping to meet someone kinky?”

“I keep everything,” I confessed.

“One of those. That explains the bedroom. But clothes are no place to get sentimental. You have to decide—does this enhance my appearance? Does this outfit get me where I want to go?”

I eyed my clothes warily. Apparently, we were all part of a team leading to my success. “It’s easier not to have people notice me. I don’t need any extra attention.”

April sat down in the striped armchair and patted her stomach. “I’m having a girl.”

I nodded, a little mystified at this change of subject.

“And she’s lucky. She’s the first grandchild, so she’s going to have doting grandparents on both sides. But you know what I’d really like her to have?”

I sat down on my bed. “What?”

“I’d like her have lots of role models out there. I plan to be one. Women who work and lead but don’t sacrifice who they are inside. Amanda, you seem to be trying to deny that you have money and you’re a woman. Everyone knows these things—you need to own them and move on. Confidence is what makes a real leader, and knowing you look good... well, it’s not sexist to feel confident about your appearance. What is sexist is this idea that you need to be like a man and fit in to succeed. If you work in a men’s field like hockey, you’re going to stick out. Embrace it!”

“I’m not always going to work in hockey.” But she had a point: if I had worked with Rich-Witty, it would have been another male-dominated field. All my work around sexual harassment emphasized April’s point. Why should women have to hide their attractiveness just because men couldn’t control themselves?

She shook her head. “You’re not putting on an invisibility cloak. People notice you anyway—but right now it’s negative. And why wouldn’t you want people to notice you?”

“I want people to see me for who I am, and not what I’m wearing. When I worked in Thailand, I wore the same clothes everyday and nobody minded.”

“I like your idealism, I really do. But in real life, everyone makes judgements based on appearances. You do it too. You judge someone and decide whether they’re worth getting to know. Then you talk to them.”

Even though I prided myself on being open minded, I clearly had some prejudices when it came to men. Hadn’t I typecast Chris as a sexist, dumb jock—mainly because he was good looking with a muscular body?

I scowled. “Ugh. I hate to admit you’re right. After all, I’ve managed all this time without paying attention to my clothes.”

“Looking your best is important for all parts of life. I think you’ll be shocked at how good you feel when you look great. Now go try this dress on.”

A work dress? I took the hanger from her and disappeared again. I hung up the suit and slipped into the dress. I really liked it. It was a fitted, navy shift and not too girly. And the pearls looked perfect on top. Then I heard a little shriek, and I poked my head out of the bathroom. “Is everything okay?”

April was holding aloft a handbag. “Oh my God. You have a vintage Chanel quilted purse. I found it wrapped up in a scarf and shoved in the back of your closet. Do you have any idea how special this is?”

“Oh, is it? My grandmother gave it to me.”

“Fitzgerald was right. The rich are different from you and me. Or in this case, me. This is like Treasure Island. Am I going to find an antique Hermès scarf crammed inside a pair of boots next?”

“Did you mean the one with the horse heads on it?”

Her eyes went full saucer. “Are you kidding me?”

I laughed. “I am. There are no Hermès scarves in my closet. My mother commandeered them all.”

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