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The Promise by River Laurent (45)

Chapter 15

Dani

“You look gorgeous,” Veronica purrs, walking around me in a slow circle as she taps impeccably manicured, deep red nails against her chin. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Are you sure about that?” I wish I was. I don’t feel stunning at all. If anything, I feel downright exposed. I didn’t know until this very minute that it was possible for a person to feel exposed when so much of their body was covered, but here I am. Sleek, black, with a high collar which fastens around my neck. It’s cut down to the middle of my back, sleeveless, and hits just above my knee. Completely respectable. Classy. Wildly expensive. And unnerving.

“Don’t you like it?” The strident, confident, no-nonsense saleswoman peers at me in the mirror from over my shoulder.

I slide my hands over my stomach and around to my hips, gliding over the lush fabric. It’s like looking at a stranger, but I can feel my body, and my body can feel my hands on it. So it must be me. Just a version of me I’ve never seen before. One I didn’t know existed up until now.

And this is just one dress! There are other dresses for both night and day, skirts, shoes and even pajamas and underwear. Veronica seems to know my body better than just about anybody ever has except for maybe my jerk of an ex-boyfriend.

I turn to check out my profile. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s absolutely gorgeous, but I’m not sure it is me.”

“Not you? Honey, this dress was made for you.”  

I frown. I’ve just never dressed like this. I really hope I can carry this glamorous act off successfully.

Suddenly, she places her hands on my shoulders and turns me to face her. She’s old enough to be my mother, I guess, and that combined with the few inches she has on me makes me feel like a little girl. “Do you know what I see in front of me?” she asks.

I shake my head.

“I see a beautiful girl who caught the eye of—between you and me—the sexiest man to walk the streets of Manhattan.” There’s a naughty twinkle in her eyes.

A giggle erupts from me, and I clamp a hand over my mouth. She seems so worldly and sophisticated, I didn’t expect her to be so blunt.

She winks like we’re old friends. After the way she’s measured me and dressed me today, we practically are. “I say, enjoy yourself. Trust me, his eyes will fall out of his head when he sees you in any of the dresses I’ve picked out for you, but especially this one.”

“As much as I’d hate for him to lose his eyes…”

We share a laugh and suddenly, I feel much better.

Once I’m finished dressing in my own clothes, which suddenly looks cheap and shabby, I step out of the dressing room to find her going over the list Brock dictated.

“All right. It looks like this is all of it,” she says to her assistant, a meek and mousy girl who flashes a shy smile at me.

There’s an entire rack of new clothes in front of her. “Wow. It didn’t seem like all that much up until now.”

“You’re a lucky girl.” She smiles, turning to me. “And you know something? A secret, between you and me?”

“Sure.”

She leans in a little, eyes sweeping back and forth as though she’s looking out for eavesdroppers before whispering, “I do a lot of these appointments. Young women come in after their man calls to confirm it’s all right, and I help them pick out clothing and put it on the boyfriend’s account. I have to say, you’re the nicest girl I’ve ever worked with.”

I can’t help feeling a glow of pleasure. “I am?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I’d go so far as to say you’re just not the type I’m used to. You’re sweet and unassuming. It’s nice to see a girl like you land a straight shooter like Mr. Garret. I like him and I’m glad he found such a lovely girl.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m not his girl and that he’s not entirely a straight shooter, seeing as how this is all part of a deception. Besides, it’s flattering. And I need the extra confidence badly. I need to know I can convince Brock’s ex that I’m the sort of girl he would have picked as his girlfriend. “Thank you,” I whisper.

She moves away, all business again. “I’ll have everything rung up for you. Good luck, sweetheart,” she says as her assistant wheels the rack to the registers.

I feel like I should give her a tip or something, but I don’t have that sort of cash on me and I suppose Brock’s taking care of that, too. The sales clerks carefully package everything until there are six bags and three garment bags total. For one weekend? I don’t even want to know what this is all coming to. More than I’d typically make in a year, maybe. It feels obscene to spend that kind of money, but it’s also exhilarating. I have to bite back a silly grin as Tom helps me load everything into the limo before whisking me off to the highrise where Brock is waiting.

“One further thing we didn’t discuss,” Tom calls back as he drives.

“What’s that?”

“Mr. Garret’s generosity.”

“You don’t have to tell me about that.” I laugh. My head’s still spinning with the thought of all the luxurious designer clothes that are now mine. It doesn’t seem real. And part of me thinks they’re a waste too, because I’m never going to the kind of fancy places they would look right in. They’re all way too much for a trip to the movies or the mall food court.

He’s not just generous, either. He’s true to his word.

Nothing Veronica chose for me is too revealing or tight. Nothing that makes me physically uncomfortable. Mentally? Ah, that’s another story, but it has nothing to do with the clothing itself. It has to do with me. Even with all the work I’ve done on myself, all the books I’ve read, the seminars I’ve watched, the journaling, the mediation, the different tapping techniques, and every other method I’ve tried to get over the crap in my head from when I was a kid, my self-image is still garbage.

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