M y room was a disaster.

I'd made it home just that morning, still glowing and warm from the two nights I'd spent with Jake, and I'd made up my mind. It was time to stop hiding from life .

That meant I needed to do some shopping. Desperately .

A look inside my closet was mostly a dismal one, revealing more gray and black, kind of like the New York streets – although not as messy. I had some color in there, but most of it was tucked off into the back, all the pretty things I'd picked up from end of the season clearance sales and had never worn .

Those pieces provided a decent start, but I needed more, plus some other basic pieces, like blue jeans that didn't require a belt to stay up .

I had to stop hiding inside my clothes. Just because I was plump didn't mean I had to dress like I did .

Bringing up one of my favorite sites on my phone, I studied some of the outfits I was always pinning, but never trying and then did some detective work. I was too organized to just go out and hope for the best. Besides, I hadn't dressed in any sort of recognizable style in years – I wasn't even sure if I'd know how .

Maybe what I needed was a personal shopper .

"Hmmm..."

A couple of phone calls netted me exactly what I needed. A cancellation at Saks had me an appointment, and I had just enough time to shower and dress and make it there – I could even take the subway. I knew how to get there now. I'd been studying subway maps in preparation of my next excursion .

I just hadn't expected it to be so soon...or to replenish my soon-to-be-depleted wardrobe .

* * *

"Y ou have a great figure," the older woman said in a delighted tone. "Oh, there are so many pieces we have that are going to look darling on you ."

"Okay." I gave her a game smile and returned the iPad, hoping it would serve some purpose. I'd filled out a questionnaire that asked me my color preferences, personal style – did I prefer casual or dressy? – fabrics, and on and on. Hopefully, it would steer the woman to helping me made the right kind of choices .

I didn't want to leave here looking like my mother had dressed me. Nothing against my mother, but she was a few years older .

Her sense of style reflected it too .

My personal shopper's name was Alice, and she beamed at me before offering me a glass of wine. Knowing I might need it, I accepted and a few minutes later, sat there sipping while she went out to do her thing .

It didn't take me more than five minutes to realize I'd been worrying about nothing. Alice, grandma looks aside, knew her stuff .

I now possessed boho-styled peasant skirts, jeans that went up high enough up that, when I bent over, my butt wasn't hanging out. There were also poet blouses, sweaters that followed my figure without being tight, and others that were fuller but stopped just a bit lower than my waist line, allowing those curves she was so delighted with to shine, as she'd described it .

I went into the dressing room with my first armful and came out with eight different pieces I wanted .

"Excellent!" she said, clapping her hands. "That gives me a direction !"

That might not have been a good thing, I realized over an hour later. I signed the slip for my purchases, gamely not agonizing over how much I'd spent – after so many years of buying blah – and very little of it – I smiled up at Alice. "You are a wonder," I told her .

"It has been a pleasure, Michelle." She beamed at me before pulling me in for a hug .

I delighted in the fact that I was able to tolerate it. Once upon a time, I'd been a hugger myself. Impulsively, I squeezed her back before turning to look at all the stuff I somehow had to transport back to my loft .

"This is going to be...fun," I said dryly .

"We can get you a car, if that would make it easier," she offered .

"A car. An elephant...maybe a couple of them. They could probably carry a lot of this," I replied with a sigh .

She laughed and picked up her phone. "One elephant coming up ."

* * *

I t wasn't an elephant, but the town car was a welcome treat. It was another hour before I reached home and only a quarter of that before I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom, trying on the outfit that would probably become one of my favorites. It was a little chilly for it still, with the temperature hovering in the twenties, but what the hell...all I planned on doing was taking my laptop and finding some place to eat and write for a little while. I'd wear my coat while I was outside, so what did it matter if the sweater had a cutout design on the sleeves ?

It was ruby red, a color I never wore, not with my hair color, but Alice had told me if I had it, I should flaunt it and damn it, I was going to do just that. I even bought a red dress I planned on wearing the next time I saw Jake .

The cutouts revealed my upper arms and my forearms in a whimsical, appealing fashion, while the hemline ended just below the waistband of my jeans. And the jeans were excellent. When a girl had a set of hips and a butt like mine, those hip hugger jeans were one of the worst designs imaginable, sliding too low and gaping at the worst places. But these jeans went up just high enough to avoid that, all without being those ugly old mom -jeans that had been a meme for a while on the internet .

They skimmed my curves, calling attention to them without being so tight that it made it clear I was...well, very curvy. In other words, plump .

The ankle booties done in the same shade of red as the sweater topped it all off and left me feeling like I really was the new Michelle my Aunt Blair had teased me about being. With my hair left hanging loose and a pair of gold dangles in my ears, I looked better than I had in...hell, years .

I almost called Jake up to see if he wanted to join me for dinner. It seemed a shame to waste this on just me, but the second the thought crossed my mind, I decided that was exactly why I should go out, just me. Why was it wasting it to look cute for myself ?

With that thought in mind, I grabbed one of my coats from the closet and a hat, lingering just long enough to get my laptop before I headed out .

I was afraid if I lingered too long, I'd change my mind, but actually, as I rode the elevator down, I realized that I was excited .

It had been forever since I'd felt this confident .

It was turning out to be one hell of a weekend .

* * *

A nd it actually was getting better .

The little Indian restaurant I'd chosen for dinner was packed, always wall to wall, so close that I turned my screen down to the lowest level of brightness it could be on, just to keep people from reading over my shoulder .

Not that I was working on an assignment at the moment .

I was working on one of my pieces, a short story I'd put off way too long .

I loved my job, but writing for me was a pleasure I didn't engage in often enough .

As my food came out, I closed the top of my computer and tucked it into my purse to protect it while I ate. As I bit into a piece of naan, a woman settled into the recently vacated table to my right and asked for a glass of wine. As I sipped from mine, she flipped open a magazine – one with a layout that had become very familiar to me .

She was reading Coterie . Not only that, she was reading one of my articles !

"Oh, man...you're reading Chasing the O !" I said, trying not to squeal .

Her cheeks flaming, she whipped her head around to look at me .

"I'm sorry," I said, clapping a hand over my mouth when I realized how loud – and obnoxious – that had sounded. "I just...I-I've enjoyed that series a lot ."

In so many ways ...

"Me, too," she whispered conspiratorially. She leaned over and said, "I've already tried a few things out with my guy. Whoever the writer is, if I ever meet her, I'm gonna kiss her right on the mouth. This stuff is pure gold ."

"I...um...wow, yeah. Isn't it?" Now my cheeks were flaming, and I hoped the dim light hid it somewhat. I doubted it though. I'd managed to catch her blush .

"Have you read the whole series?" she asked, apparently unaware of the fact that her last comment had both delighted and discomfited me. "There was one online ..."

"I've read them." Nodding, I reached for my water and took a sip, putting it down and deciding it might be best to stick with it instead of wine for the time being. "She comes up with some...ideas, huh ?"

"Hot ones, that's for sure. I mean, it's not like I haven't appreciated the other pieces Coterie has written about stuff like this, but this woman, it's like she's got insider knowledge or something." She grinned at me. "Know what I mean ?"

I grinned back. "Absolutely ."

The server appeared at that very moment with her glass of wine and she accepted before tipping the glass slightly in my direction. "Cheers! I'm going back to my reading. Enjoy your meal," she said happily after the first sip .

"Same to you." Feeling a little lightheaded, I reached for my own wine. Wow. That had been my first live reader interaction. Not that I'd even told her I was the author. I wasn't sure my nerves could handle that .

But still...wow .

I was so going to have to tell Jake about this .

And Aunt Blair, of course .