Page 13 of Nutcracker with Benefits
“Nash sent me to get you ready.”
I roll my eyes at Nash for the second time today, even though we haven’t even been in the same room yet. “I do have clothes with me.”
“Honey, you know, I know, Nash knows—we all know! You pack light and for the tropics. You definitely do not have anything decent to tackle the winter here in the city.”
I open my mouth to argue. I do keep some things here at Dad’s place, like winter boots and pajamas.
“Nothing appropriate for today,” Kara amends.
It’s true. As much as I would love to visit lots of cold-weather places, packing light is more important for me. I have to carry a lot of gear—my cameras and laptop—plus plenty of outfits. Winter clothes are just too bulky.
I’ve always favored the tropics anyway. I’ll take a beach-side cabana in a small town in Panama over a chalet in the Alps most days.
Though maybe not days when I could share that chalet with someone special…
Given that I have no idea where we’re going either, I relent.
“Come on,” Kara says, tugging my hand. “First we’re doing hair, and then let’s have you try on these dresses.”
“Dresses?” I say, perking up. “Plural?” I let her lead me back to my room.
“Dresses,” she confirms. Kara leads me to the en suite bathroom in my guest room. It’s “small” compared to Uncle D and Dad’s bathroom, but huge compared to what we grew up with. Between the his and hers sinks is a small vanity with a chair, and Kara pushes me down to sit.
“I’m going to give you something simple and elegant that will suit you all day, okay?” she says as she tugs at my hem. I raise my hands over my head as she pulls my T-shirt off so she can do my hair without messing it up when I change later. I’m in a simple nude bra and underwear set. Nash and I have been hooking up for so long that it started in simple underthings like this, and while I have occasionally surprised him with fancy underwear, usually, it’s so impractical. I travel all the time—there’s no sense in carrying around underwear that won’t be comfortable while bouncing on a bus through Cambodia or cutting through jungles in Brazil.
And Nash always argues that he’d take me naked over anything else, so I don’t miss fancy underwear at all.
Kara and I chat while she works, brushing my hair out and applying some product to it.
“How’s your family?” I ask. Like Nash, Kara’s family immigrated to the US but from Bulgaria. However, Kara’s family is still close-knit; she lives with them in an apartment in the Bronx, last I checked. Kara is close to her family—really close. Like, they all lived together for way longer than most people I know. This especially surprised me because Kara is the opposite of the rest of her family. While her family is all in tech—her little sister even works at Heartly—Kara’s decision to be a stylist went against the grain.
But Nash was one of her early clients, and now, especially since he’s referred so many other clients to her, Kara can be picky on who she styles, and she often gets amazing opportunities because of it.
Just like with career choices, Kara’s family has high standards when it comes to men their daughter can date, too.
When I ask about her dating life, she says she’s just broken up with her boyfriend.
“We don’t all have fabulous men like Nash sweeping us off to fabulous surprise dates. I can’t wait to hear what you think of the activities today. Okay, that’s your hair done.”
I turn my head left and right. “It’s a bun?” I say, a little surprised. My hair is twisted and tightly coiled in a low bun on the right side of my head.
“It’s traditional for this afternoon. And practical enough for the rest of the day.”
“That’s cryptic. Traditional?”
“Don’t worry about it. Now, dresses: I think this one is my favorite.”
Kara unzips one of the hanging bags on the clothes rack and thumbs through the choices, flashing a variety of colors and textures at me before pulling out a pink dress. At first, I think she must be joking because it’s understated, just a solid silk dress with a flared skirt and a simple and sleeveless high neckline.
But at closer look, the bodice is not so simple. Starting at the left shoulder is something like lace, but not a flowery pattern. It’s geometric, almost a weave, and some of the material is tiny bands of silver. Some of the threads are missing, leaving seductive gaps in the dress where my pale skin will show through. This ribbon of silver and air travels across the breasts to taper off at the right side of the waist.
The skirt falls to my knees, flared out, and as Kara shifts the material, I see a hidden slit, much like the bodice, with gaps in the weaving that get progressively bigger as they move down toward the hem.
“It’s gorgeous,” I whisper.
Kara grins. “I know you like warm tones and something with an edge. I had to snag this for you when Nash told me his plans for the night.”
She helps me into the dress, taking the bra when I peel it off and zipping up the back. I take my time, admiring the way the skirt flares and shimmers when I move. “This isn’t too fancy for what we’re doing tonight?”
