Page 36 of An Improper Deal (Elliot & Annabelle 1)
“Do you always get everything your way?”
“Pretty much.” He gives me a quick grin. “Don’t look so grim. Josephine’s going to take care of you.”
“I still don’t know what she is!”
“A fashion consultant.” He tosses that as a parting remark and waves as he walks away.
Josephine comes back over. “Ready?”
“I guess…”
“Come on.” She leads the way to a Lexus parked outside. “Get in. We have a lot of territory to cover.”
I settle into the passenger seat, and she drives us to a building not too far from the law firm. Its exterior is entirely sleek black, and there are no signs or anything else that might identify the edifice. “Where are we?”
“A place where we’re going to spend oodles of Elliot’s money.”
I nibble on my lower lip. “You know I’m not really dressed for… I mean…” I steal a quick glance at her clothes. She’s so trendy it hurts. “They might kick me out because I look…” I gesture helplessly at my outfit.
“You think this is going to be some Pretty Woman nightmare?” Josephine waves carelessly. “Don’t worry, you’re with me. And I don’t take clients to places that let in just anybody with money. Thankfully, this place also has a full-service spa.”
“Spa?”
“Spa.” She gives me another once-over. “Sorry, but you need a new haircut, mani, pedi…the works.”
Her tone is matter-of-fact like she’s discussing what should be on a cheeseburger. She gets out of the car and I follow her to the building.
“I thought you were just buying me clothes,” I say.
“You need more than new clothes. At least you have good bones. Some people have to get surgical help.”
My jaw drops. She waits for me to come into the high foyer. The floor is all smooth pale champagne marble, while the walls are covered with thick, expensive-looking ivory paper. Crystal chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling. A soft strain of classical music floats in the air like perfume. The place reeks of money, impeccable taste and class.
A tall woman in a sleek black dress walks out. She manages to walk with confidence despite five-inch heels. “So good to see you, Josephine.”
They exchange air kisses. “Did you get my text?”
“Of course.”
“So everything’s ready?”
“Yes. And is this Gigi?” the woman says, turning to me.
I’m about to correct her, but Josephine talks first. “Yes. She needs everything. And I do mean everything.”
“The same thing we did for Paige?”
Josephine shakes her head. “Not enough time. She has a dinner date today. We’ll start small.” She purses her mouth. “Maybe a few dresses.”
The other woman crosses her arms. “Yes. I agree.” She gives me a brilliant smile. “Let’s start. What would you like to drink? We have Dom or Veuve Clicquot.”
I glance at Josephine helplessly. “I’d go with Dom,” she says.
Chapter Fourteen
Annabelle
Dom turns out to be a kind of champagne. A crazy expensive kind, not the cheap stuff we had in college. The woman—her name is Karen—and Josephine apparently expect me to sip it while beauticians work on my hair, feet and hands.
