by Landra Graf
“No turtlenecks, got it. Anything else?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“She wants items that are comfortable, not constricting. Modest but still feminine, and with the ability to be worn in different combinations.”
Kat scoffed. “How do you know that?”
“It’s my job to know.” He stepped in next to her. “I can also learn a lot by the contents of a woman’s closet.”
The heat in his eyes made her want to squirm. Pure sensuality and all sorts of bad promises were hidden in those depths, tempting her to dive in for a closer look. It had to be her imagination that he was flirting with her, but just in case. “You don’t know all my secrets.”
“Not yet.”
Sam laughed while placing her hands on Kat’s shoulders and pointing her in the direction of a rack of clothing. “Let’s get started, you two. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
Within two hours, she’d tallied up over a thousand dollars in clothes, and that was even with the Bona Fide client discount. Kat wasn’t sure if such a thing really existed, but Sam protested that not a single one of Dev’s past clients was allowed to pay full price for her clothing. Not when the female designer believed the discount encouraged return business and new clientele.
Sam had proven to be a miracle worker with seams, lines, and style. She suggested colors and types of blouses Kat had never considered, like empire-waisted and low-banded waist tops, and waist-flair jackets paired with dark colored jeans. For the first time, Kat found herself enjoying the shopping experience, even if the price tags were more than she’d ever spent on clothes.
The part that made her cheeks flush was when Dev suggested that sleeveless and wrap-around tops showed off her bosom. And when he suggested a skirt far shorter than anything she was comfortable with. Some things were better off keeping covered, her legs being one of them. Dev argued fiercely against her beliefs.
“Your legs are an asset,” he’d said after taking a drink from his water bottle. “You need to be daring and show them off. Allow them to display your sophistication and confidence. Besides, in the right outfit, bare legs make a woman appear taller than she is.”
She twirled around in the burnt-orange top with three shades of yellow on the layered fabric near her breasts. A strapless thing, which surprisingly held up against gravity and her boobs. “You’re insane.”
He gave her a raised eyebrow. “Sam can back me up on this.”
The designer whistled in response and walked off to help another customer.
“She doesn’t want to get in the middle of this, which shows how smart she is.” Kat glanced at herself again in the mirror, trying not to enjoy how she looked. “I like her.”
“Good, but you’ll need a different bra with that top.”
“I’ll wear one of those cardigans Sam added to my pile. It will cover the straps.”
Dev groaned his disapproval. “Strapless bras, like sleeveless tops, are a necessity to every female wardrobe.”
Kat wanted to call bullshit.“Never needed one before.”
“Well, you’ll need one now.”
“Yes,” Sam piped in. “Especially if you’re going to wear this.”
Kat’s hands flew to her mouth to hide her unladylike jaw drop. Gran had always said shock should never show on the outside lest the devil find a way in. But Sam’s idea of a little black dress nearly floored her. The material and cut were fancy and refined from the empire waist flowing into a miniskirt with varying lengths of layered black chiffon and mesh fabrics. The top was sleeveless with a mesh covering that went around the neck and tied into a bow with long black ribbons.
“No one I know will be impressed if they see bra straps peeking out of this number, and I refuse to let you have it unless you promise me you won’t do it an injustice.” Sam held the garment out to her.
“It wouldn’t work on me.” She’d seen dresses like that one before her and never considered them. Ever. They were worn by skinny, size-four women who didn’t have fleshy behinds or thighs with more flab than muscle. She’d been a size twelve since freshman year of high school and accepted her fate long ago.
“I beg to differ,” Dev chimed in this time. “You’ll look perfect, and the layers of the skirt will prevent any immodesty. If you’re super worried, the lingerie store has some other undergarments that will keep things where you want them.”
He made it sound so simple and easy, but she’d found dresses to be anything but. They were breezy and made her feel self-conscience more often than sexy.
“Do I have to try it on right now?”
“No.” He glanced at his watch. “We have to get going if we’re going to make the next stop.”
“Where?” She asked, stepping into the dressing room once more. There wasn’t much left to purchase; they’d replenished her wardrobe. The only thing that came to mind—shoe shopping. She’d rather walk around naked than go shopping for shoes she’d never wear. Especially if Dev thought she might be willing to give heels a try. She hoped he’d say lunch. Her stomach growled at the prospect as she whipped the top over her head.
Right as it got past her breasts he replied, his voice a whisper on the other side of the curtain, “Knickers in a Twist.”
Dev didn’t feel guilty for making Kat jump behind her changing room curtain. He did it to put a little blush on her cheeks when she walked back out dressed in her simple ensemble. That’s the very male, bullshit lie he told himself—she deserved to be momentarily flustered because her outfits continuously one-upped themselves, making him notice things about her that stoked his latent libido.
He doused those musings with reminders of the board’s threats, of the disastrous relationship with Pru, and the fact that Sam kept giving him the you-are-full-of-crap look.
She was another not-quite-native to the area. He’d met the fledgling designer at a local small business owners’ meeting hosted by the Chamber of Commerce several years back. He’d hit on her, and she’d dressed him down, calling his suit for the evening a cheap, Hugo Boss knock-off. They’d been friends ever since.
Once Bona Fide was off the ground, he’d started using her store as one of his go-to spots. Sam not only made beautiful clothing, but she designed for every size. Whether small, short, tall, or plus-size, anyone could find something flattering in her store. She was even known for her side business designing costumes for local drag queens.
“I’ll put it all on my card,” he replied, pulling out his company plastic. Kat’s growing stiffness as the total climbed higher and higher on the machine had him covering the expense. He’d bill it back to her.
The raised eyebrow Sam flashed at him showed her suspicion. He didn’t give in to the bait and kept his expression neutral, while Sam flashed her smiles for Kat. “Thank you for shopping with us, and be sure to come back. Especially when he’s done with you. He may finish helping you, but I’m always here to assist if you need something for a special date or an important meeting. Any occasion important to you is important to me.”
“Thank you, Sam. It was a pleasure meeting you.” Kat picked up two of the bags and headed for the door.
Before Dev could follow, Sam snagged his jacket sleeve and growled at him. “What the hell is going on?”
“She’s a client.”
Sam gave her familiar, sarcastic smile. “Yep, but I’ve never seen you drop fifteen hundred on the company card when clothing a client. Maybe a single top or one outfit, something to try out. A whole set to keep her in fashion until spring? Nope.”
“Money is tight for her, and she’s Mark’s cousin. I’m doing nothing nefarious. This is pro bono work.”
“I-wanna-bone-ya is what you mean. Don’t even try to give me that innocent, emotionless response. I saw the heated stares and hooded expressions you flashed her way when she wasn’t looking.” She pulled tighter and put his card into his hand.
He chuckled, trying to keep himself calm, to school himself in the ways he taught his clients.
“The gazes were my appreciation for how the clothes look on her. I’d look the same way at any beautifully dressed woman.”
“Cut the crap. You better not get involved with this one.” Sam let go of his sleeve and shoved the remaining bags across the counter toward him. “I like her, and you don’t need another relationship with a woman who’s a project. The last one didn’t turn out so well for you. I always said it’s bad luck mixing business with pleasure, and that’s my own personal experience talking.”
Dev tucked the loops of the bags into his palms, enjoying the weight of the packages as he lifted them. A burden, one he could bear. Much like this damning attraction he had to a woman he couldn’t be with, a woman he didn’t necessarily like. “I’m perfectly capable of maintaining a professional work balance with someone I find attractive. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Only because I bat for the other team,” she replied with a wink. “Stay safe.”
“I will, and thank you again for your donation to the shelter. Those women were over the moon the other night, and the outfits cheered them up immensely.”
“Glad I could help. Make sure you keep your pants zipped.”
He walked out of the shop a little off-kilter by his friend’s deep and correct assessment of his interest in Kat, but determined to stay strong. Kat waited for him at his car. The trunk popped open as he pressed the key fob. Once all the bags were in and the garment bag containing her dress hung from a hook in his backseat, they were off.
“Thank you.” She said this as he came to the first stoplight, the sentence a near whisper, as if she didn’t want to say two words defining gratitude of any kind.
Naturally, he needed to know why she bothered. “What for?”
“The clothes. I don’t have that kind of money sitting around. In fact, I’m embarrassed for spending so much.”
“Don’t be embarrassed for purchasing good quality, flattering clothing. You’re tamer than half of my clients. Most spend twice as much on the first visit.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, memories of Pru and her need to try each style in every color. His ex wanted to have everything.
“Do they actually wear it all?”
Pru never did. “In most cases, I’d guess not. They just get eager. I think you showed admirable restraint.”
“Well, I’m exhausted and ready to go home.”
“We’re not done yet.”
“How is that possible? You just helped me locate and purchase a new business wardrobe. I’d say that’s a full day’s work.”
“Not until we go to Knickers in a Twist.”
She laughed a day-brightening, jolly sound that transformed her entire face in a youthful, refreshing way. Another light turned, and he glanced back at the street. “It’s a store?”
“Lingerie store, yes. You need a few things to get ready for your clothing selections.”
She sighed, loud enough he didn’t even have to look. “I don’t need strapless bras.”
“You say that now, but you’ll thank me for this when you have them in your possession.” He made a left turn. Only a few more blocks and they’d be there. “Patience is a virtue, and so far you’ve been marvelous. Give me one more hour, and I promise you won’t regret it.”
He waited, hoping she’d let the stubborn wall fall. She’d taken some jabs, made some objections at the clothing store, but overall, she’d listened to his advice. The fact that she’d looked fantastic in every blouse, top, slacks, and skirt she tried on had to mean something. If anything, he still possessed some semblance of talent when it came to dressing others. The art of clothing hadn’t abandoned him.
When it came to lingerie, he let the experts in the store handle that part. Though clients often offered him a chance to view bra and panty sets, he always declined. Bras and panties were a horrible thing to think about.
“All right, one hour.” He saw her sit up straight out of his peripheral vision before starting in again. “Thank you for the clothing advice. You were right.”
Seconds ticked by. Another intersection marked the approaching conclusion to their time alone. No way would she get out of this. “About?”
“I do look good in certain colors if the cut, shape, and execution of the outfit are right. I still can’t believe I agreed to several skirts above the knee.”
“Trust me, whatever horrible thoughts you have about your legs, they are not true. Even Sam agreed with me; those skirts”—he paused mid-sentence to parallel park the car on the street. Once successfully maneuvered, he started up again—“will enhance your entire appearance and give your frame upward volume. Are you ready to trust me again?”
“Lead the way.” She motioned with her hands toward the building.
The logo for Knickers, what he called the store for short, possessed a pair of boy shorts waving from a pole like a flag and each letter of the first word in a different print/fabric style. He knew the owners, who operated a flagship store out of Eureka Springs and were never in town. This second shop catered to a client base he’d helped create. A sense of pride filled him at the idea he was introducing another person to their brand of under-care. They called it that. Clothing underneath the clothes was the owner’s passion. Once introduced to a pair of American-produced, cotton-blend undergarments, one didn’t go back.
They walked in and the bell over the door rang. The employee behind the counter, Riona, smiled at him. “Welcome back to Knickers. I can get those twists out.”
Her heavy Scottish accent was rare in this part of the state, but the owners loved employing exchange students from the local college, and she was the lucky winner for the semester. The last time he’d been in here was with a couple of male clients, since the boutique catered to all genders.
“Riona, this is Kat.” Dev touched Kat’s shoulder, ignoring the heat and the instinctive reaction to squeeze and stroke his way around her frame. “She’s looking for a few particular things. Mainly some No Peeky’s, a strapless, and Hug ’em Bottoms.”
“Oy, and you know the lady’s mind, do ya?” Riona’s wink reminded him she joked, but her demeanor said the opposite. “Come with me, fair one. I’ll let the man who knows everything stay here. Unless you want input on colors?”
Kat gave him a side eye. “Do you want to help choose colors?”
“Stick with nudes and black. Maybe white, but I wouldn’t try anything with color or patterns. We’re looking at business attire; best to keep it simple.”
“Do you know yer size?” Riona motioned to her own bust.
The look on Kat’s face had him coughing to cover the laugh that tried to escape.
Both eyebrows up, she glanced back at him once more.
“Is she for real?” she mouthed.
He nodded and motioned with both hands to answer, otherwise, this would get even more awkward. Kat appeared to be more modest about her body than he’d expected. At some point someone had given this beautiful woman the idea her body was ugly.
“36B.”
Riona shook her head. “If you’re a 36B, I’m next in line for the throne. Come on. I’ll measure ya.”
They walked off, disappearing behind a changing room curtain. He heard Kat yip and yelp as if being poked and prodded unfairly. The noises made him curious, but he tamped the wayward thoughts down.
When Riona came back she grinned at him. “I was right. She’s definitely no 36B.”
The measurement sounded like an offensive swear word.
“She isn’t?”
“No, any woman with sense can see that. She’s a 36C. I’ll fetch the garments. You may want to stand nearby and give her moral support. She’s a bit feisty and shy, but nothing like my sister Molly.” Riona marched off toward the women’s section.
Dev headed to the back wall of the store where all the changing rooms were housed. Thick, burgundy velvet curtains hung over each entrance, reminding him of the old school curtains at his college theater house. “Doing okay in there?”
“Okay except for
my ladies being shoved around and cinched by a measuring tape. I think she pinched me on purpose.”
“Well, she mentioned you were feisty.”
“Me? She expected me just to peel my top and bra off in front of her.”
“They don’t have the same prudish nature in Europe as we do in America, or so I’ve heard from her lips. She’s gathering the items for you to try on now and should be back in a minute.”
“Great.” The sarcasm elongated the word, and he could picture her shoulders slumped, like a dejected cartoon character.
“Don’t slouch,” he called out.
“Fine, but tell me what the hell are No Peeky’s and Hug ’em Bottoms?”
“No Peeky’s are a type of underwear without a panty line. They are perfect for business casual and dating clothes. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I took the liberty of assuming you don’t like thongs. These are the next best thing, full coverage and no worry about people seeing exactly where they end or begin, depending on how you look at it. Hug ’em Bottoms are Knickers’s version of Spanx. I mentioned you getting a pair for the dress or at least trying them on. These would work for the skirts you selected, too.”
She peeked her head out the curtain. “Does it bother you to know so much about women’s fashion and their undergarments?”
“Does it bother you?”
A blush stole over her cheeks, giving her a nice, rosy glow. “A little.”
“Why?”
Kat opened her mouth to answer, but never got a word out because Riona hip-checked him. “Out of the way, silver-tongued devil; we’ve got undercare to deal with.”
Kat moved back out of sight, and Riona disappeared into the room with her. Dev decided to browse the men’s section, especially the latest fall styles of socks. He had a collection of socks, from favorite television shows to patterns for the seasons. A guilty pleasure to take away from the singularity in his dress code of suits.
He was deep in thought considering the socks and the next steps in Kat’s makeover. He didn’t care that the bell over the front door rang out. Nor did he care to look up and see who walked in.
