Page 51 of Finding You
Maggie blanched. “I can’t.”
“You have the body for it,” Emily pleaded.
“You mean I have no tits,” Maggie replied, looking at the dress skeptically.
“You said it, not me,” Christian added. “It’s perfect. Just try it on already.”
Maggie came out of the dressing room a few minutes later in a short puff-sleeved black dress with a dramatic deep V in the front. It hugged all her curves and highlighted her lean physique. She looked stunning. We all broke out in applause. I didn’t know her well, but we seemed to have a lot in common, including our love of boring professional clothes. The last time I saw her she was wearing a shift dress and pearls, so this was a pretty big fashion risk for her.
Ava was jumping up and down. “Mom, you have to get it. You look hot.”
Maggie turned and gave Christian a dirty look. “See. You’re already teaching my impressionable daughter to be obsessed with clothes and appearances.”
“I’m not, Mom. You know I am committed to being a scientist. Just because I can appreciate a nice dress for a special occasion does not mean I’m some superficial brat.” Ava slumped back down on the sofa with her book.
Maggie admired herself in the three-way mirrors.
“I think you look great,” I said.
“I have had a shit couple of months,” she replied. “It might not hurt to remind myself that I used to be young and hot.”
“Correction,” Christian said, “you are young and hot.” He lowered his voice to an almost whisper, “Or at least hot.”
She punched him playfully in the arm. “You got me.”
I was helping myself to another scone when I heard Christian bark, “Elsa. You’re next.”
I spun around. I did not want to be in his fashion crosshairs right now. I was just an observer here.
I took a bite of scone and shook my head. I would just be polite and firm. I wasn’t here for a makeover. I was here to hang out with my new friends.
“I’m not taking no for an answer. I found the perfect thing for you.”
I gave him a weak smile. “Actually, I was going to wear one of my suits. I was thinking about my gray Theory skirt suit. It’s really cute.”
Nora shouted over from where she was getting her nails done, “Will you stop it with the suits? You’re not Hillary Clinton, and even she knows when to leave the suits at home.”
Christian looked at me with genuine pity. I realized that I seemed like a sad workaholic, which I was, but I didn’t want my new friends to think I was that boring.
“Hey, Dante,” he yelled over the chatter, “Elsa here wants to wear a sad business suit to the party.”
Dante whipped around from where he was taming Cece’s wild hair. “Are you crazy? You are going to this party as the date of one of the hottest bachelors in Havenport. You need to show the world what a smokeshow you are.”
“Please don’t ever use that word again,” Nora begged.
Dante rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Cece’s hair.
“Fine,” I said. I thumbed through the rack. I could be adventurous. “How about this?” I asked, holding up a simple black shift with a side slit. “I could rock this.”
Christian shook his head at me. “Nope. I have something special for you.”
He held up a blue sparkly dress. Scratch that. I think it was a shirt.
“Um. No, thank you. I don’t do sparkles.” It was truly the last thing on earth I would ever wear. I was an Ivy League-educated lawyer, not a lounge singer in Vegas, thank you very much.
“Try it on.”
I demurred. I didn’t want to insult him or Nora, but I couldn’t possibly wear that.
