Hannah’s day had gotten stranger after the coffee shop. She somehow stepped into a strange subculture that she didn’t know existed. One where torture was disguised as pampering, shopping the sales was taboo and being spotted with an empty glass of champagne in hand turned clerks into track stars, racing to fill your glass.

Cody had been able to politely decline—with his reputation and all—but Hannah gave in after Cody’s taunts about being wild and free.

At least she could check underage drinking off her list, she thought while sipping the delightful bubbles. She was convinced it was the only reason she survived her first—and hopefully last—eyebrow wax. The mani-pedi was almost enjoyable, but Hannah ran from the spa when they explained what a Brazilian wax was.

She currently sat motionless at the makeup counter while two artists perfected her flaws. Hannah found it funny that she’d never noticed her flaws before, but after Roderick and Hector pointed them out and quickly caked the right makeup or lotion over them, she wondered how she’d ever survived without them.

“Voila! You’re perfection, darling!” Roderick exclaimed after an hour of primping.

Hannah was stunned when she saw her refection. She looked just like Bianca—polished and plastic. “Thank you,” she said in awe raising her hand to touch her flawless skin.

Hector slapped her hand away. “No touching!”

“You like?” Roderick asked Cody, who was busy texting.

He looked up for a moment. “Yes, very much.”

“What account will we be putting the products on today?” Hector asked.

“Matthews,” Cody replied.

“Splendid.”

Roderick handed Hannah a gigantic shopping bag full of cosmetics, creams, spritzes and strange looking applicators. How was she ever going to replicate their masterpiece on her own? She kept her concern to herself and thanked them, letting Cody lead her away.

“Come on, doll face, your new wardrobe awaits,” he declared steering her through the brightly lit aisles to a doorway labeled ‘fitting rooms’.

“Must you call me doll face?”

“Do you prefer Miss Perfect? Or maybe sweet cakes, snookums—”

Hannah huffed. “Never mind. Doll face is fine!”

“Great, then on to the fitting rooms, doll face.”

Cody’s grin was infectious but Hannah was exhausted. It was already 7 pm. She was normally in bed by 8 or 9 at the latest and she still hadn’t eaten dinner.

“Do we have to?” she groaned.

“Yes! How are you not loving this? It’s your Pretty Woman moment. I thought that was every girl’s fantasy?”

“I was already a pretty woman, thank you very much!”

“No! Pretty Woman . . . the movie.”

Hannah stared at him blankly.

“Julia Roberts and Richard Gere?”

She just blinked in confusion.

“You’re kidding me! You’ve never seen Pretty Woman?”

“I’m not really into movies. Unless it’s a historical documentary. They fascinate me.”

Cody shook his head in amazement.

“What?”

“You’re the strangest girl I’ve ever met.”

“So all girls like this Pretty Woman movie?” Hannah asked.

“Yeah, it’s about a prostitute that gets hired by a lonely rich guy who buys her all these expensive things and they fall in love.”

“So the rich guy has to buy the love of the prostitute? That sounds terrible!”

Cody laughed. “Well when you say it that way . . . you just have to see it. I’m adding movie night to your research. Starting with Pretty Woman. And then there’s some teen movies you should watch to learn how to talk like a normal human. It’ll help you spot when guys are being creeps and girls are being fake too.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “That’s a brilliant idea.” She pulled her phone from her purse and opened her notes app, ready to write down movie titles. “Pretty Woman. What else?”

“Calm down, Spielberg. Just come over this weekend and we’ll have a Netflix marathon, cause you’re gonna need my commentary.”

She nodded and slipped the phone back into her purse.

“Now get in there an try on some clothes,” Cody commanded, nodding to the row of white doors.

“But we didn’t pick any out yet?”

“What’d you think I was doing the whole time you were getting pampered?”

“Playing on your phone?”

“I was texting Bianca. She filled the fitting room with everything you’ll need.”

“What happened to doing our own shopping?”

“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” he said with an apologetic smirk. “Now quit stalling and try on your clothes. And you better show me everything. I’m not letting any boring khakis or frumpy sweaters slip by.”

“Cody, it’s not that I don’t appreciate all of this Pretty Woman pampering.” Hannah lowered her voice to a whisper. “But I can’t afford to buy my clothes here.”

“It’s on me.”

“But—”

“Lesson number three. Never decline your boyfriend’s gifts. Besides, you’re helping me.”

“How?”

“My dad feels less guilty for never being around when he buys me things. He’ll sleep easier when he sees his Neiman Marcus bill this month. Now no more arguing. Get in there.” He slapped Hannah’s ass and she yelped, but made her way into the fitting room.

The entire room was white—walls, doors, mirrors, floors. It was blinding. It was the largest fitting room Hannah had ever seen. A white wing-backed chair with an ottoman judged her from the corner. Next to it was a silver doorbell labeled ‘assistance’. Hannah glanced at the long rack filled with the clothes Bianca had picked out. This was going to take all night!

Hannah suddenly felt the need to sit down. Luckily a huge white tufted-bench with silver legs had been provided. It was over six feet long! How many people were they expecting in the fitting room at once?

Hannah looked up and shook her head at the ornate chandelier sparkling above her. She was so out of her league.

She took a deep breath and fanned through the clothing, settling on what she was most comfortable with first—a pair of dark jeans, white linen shirt and a camel-colored blazer. The skinny jeans were skintight and bending her knees was a struggle, but the rich fabric of the buttery blazer and the finely tailored shirt made up for her discomfort. Hannah gazed at her reflection in awe. She looked like a million bucks. In one afternoon she’d gone from high school nerd to the beautiful, confident career woman she longed to be.

She slid her feet into a gorgeous pair of herringbone Tory Burch flats and had to restrain herself from skipping back to the posh white waiting area, where Cody was waiting. When he gazed up from his phone he frowned. Not what Hannah was expecting.

“Ugh.” Cody gave a thumbs down.

“What’s wrong with this?”

“The clothes are perfect, it’s the way you’re wearing them.”

Cody was on his feet, pulling the hem of Hannah’s blouse from her jeans and unbuttoning it to her breastbone. When his hand grazed her chest, she slapped him.

“Don’t get me wrong, l like the whole feisty thing, but it might sell the whole boyfriend thing better if you could refrain from slapping me every time I touch you,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry. It’s just my instinct. I’m not used to having people touch me. I’m not sure I see the appeal.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend, remember? I just need to practice more.”

Cody sighed and dragged Hannah back to the fitting room.

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing.”