Page 82 of Roses, Pearls, and Hot Summer Nights
Barrett grinned. “Really? He was that bad?”
“I fought it, but I was hooked. What did he do?” He nodded to Barrett. “To try to get rid of you?”
It baffled me that so much could change in so few days. “He was just cold.”
“Until you knew the jazz music. But I was hooked the second I saw you. Thank God Julian was there that day.”
The dress shop wasn’t far, just down the block from the coffee house. It was aptly namedEthereal Elegance; delicate ivy crept up the whitewashed brick of the building. Large, arched windows displayed the latest couture, though I didn’t know much about fashion. Golden lettering above the door gleamed in the afternoon sun.
Barrett grabbed the door for me. “I want you to show me what you try on, okay? Even if there is some weird saleswoman in here, too.”
“Did she not model the suits?” Jeremy sighed in an exaggerated way. “That sucks.”
“I don’t have the slightest idea what to look at,” I confessed.
Barrett whispered in my ear. “That’s okay, I do. Forgive me while I pull out my rich entitled asshole side to get you what you need. Sometimes it’s good to play the game. I know how to play it. I hate it, but for you, yeah, I am going to get it done.”
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Ididn’t have time to worry about what he meant. They stepped up to the saleswoman with an arrogant air.
“I’m Barrett Lent.” He said his name like it meant something, so both women practically jerked to attention. “This is my brother Jeremy and our friend, Alatheia.”
The taller and older of the two women nodded, quickly. “Hello, Mr. Lent. We … we know who you are, of course.” I doubted she did, but they recognized his name. “We’ve been selling dresses for your mother’s party all week.”
So, they do know who he is. Or at least who his family was, which was different. ThePoor Relationknew that well.
“Our friend needs a dress for tomorrow, and she’s gorgeous. Everything looks beautiful on her, so I would like you to sell her something you haven’t sold to anyone else.”
I put up my hand. “I would really like to blend into the crowd. I don’t want to … be stared at too much.”
“Oh, boo.” Jeremy released me to cross his arms in a pout. “You were born to stand out.”
I swallowed, not wanting anything to do with the spotlight. “No, I would really just like to look appropriate. If I can avoid being the topic of anyone’s conversation, that’s the goal.”
The saleswoman scurried over. “I understand. Come with me. We have a lot of things that might work for you, but originals, things we haven’t sold to anyone else. You won’t feel like you have a spotlight on you, but it will still be something new for just you.”
It sounded great, but I wasn’t sure she could pull it off. The décor of the shop was elegant and obviously extravagant. Neither surprised me, although I had never been around clothing quite like the ones on nearby plastic models. Even when Dina took me shopping, we mostly looked at casual wear. These dresses sparkled. Perfectly centered lighting illuminated each piece, making them shine like something really special.
Silk gowns hung gracefully, some of them with lace and beautifully done beadwork. Mannequins wore everything from black cocktail dresses to flowing evening gowns. No other shoppers were around right then, but I could still smell expensive perfume wafting from another shopper. It wasn’t the saleswoman’s, who smelled like fresh roses, but something darker and heavier, leftover like the lingering notes of a song.
“My name is Grace.” The saleswoman smiled. “I’ll be right back with some dresses. Wait here.”
I nodded, unable to force words past my numb lips. I needed a dress, so I would have to get through the experience one way or the other.
My phone dinged with a message from Phoenix.
I’m on my way.
He was?
Jeremy responded to him.She’s back in the changing room.
I’m twenty minutes out,Phoenix replied. Don’t go anywhere until I get there.
I sank onto the provided seat and stared at myself in the mirror. So much had changed since I’d lost my mom. I remembered the bags of used clothes my mom used to bring home for me. I never thought about them, other than I should try to take care of them because they were new, and she was terrible at sewing to fix things. When we lived in Colorado, we had more people around. The neighbor—what was her name?I couldn’t remember it or anything about her other than she smelled like cigarettes—used to help my mom sew my socks when I got holes in them. Once we moved to North Dakota, we were on our own. She told me she would teach me to sew in a few years.
That hadn’t happened.
