The dress felt absolutely amazing the minute I stepped into it and zipped it closed. I watched as it hugged my body perfectly. I felt like a princess wearing it and hated having to take it off. I know just the cost of this dress far exceeds the nineteen hundred Ashlynn paid for the experience. I know that it is all tax deductible for someone like Lincoln, but to be honest, I feel guilty knowing that he probably didn’t intend on spending the kind of money a private shopping experience at Oscar’s costs. The auction brochure said shopping on Fifth Avenue; I just assumed that meant something along the lines of the Banana Republic or Ann Taylor, not this.

By the time I am fully dressed in my own clothes, the dress has been bagged and is hanging over Lincoln’s forearm. As we exit the building, Jeffrey immediately opens the door to the limo. Lincoln hands the garment bag to Jeffrey and then climbs in beside me, once again handing me another black bag. I want to protest, but I know it’s futile. There are times when a girl needs to keep her mouth shut, and no amount of arguing over the gift will change the final outcome. Once again, a Tiffany blue box sits inside, only this time, the charm is a crown. How fitting that I just felt like a princess, and now I receive a charm to match.

The privacy glass once again lowers as Jeffrey asks, “To Blandi’s, sir?”

Lincoln nods his head, and the glass rises, giving us privacy once again. “I’m going to drop you off at Blandi’s, Lillian. Please feel free to take your time. Have your hair done any way you’d like and make sure Oscar treats you right.”

“Wait, Oscar Blandi, the Oscar Blandi is going to be doing my hair?” I’m sure I heard Linc wrong. People try for months to get an appointment with him and never get the opportunity, and this being the month before Fashion Week, I can’t believe he would be able to take me on, on such short notice. “You’re kidding, right, Linc? You mean make sure Oscar gives me his best hair stylist, right?”

Lincoln shakes his head at me. “No, Lillian. Oscar himself will be taking care of you. It is a favor to me. I have to stop by my office and handle a few things, but I will be back to pick you up. The salon will let me know when you are almost done. Oh, and, Lillian, please try not to fangirl all over Oscar.”

I’m about to reply with a smartass remark when my door opens. I didn’t even notice that the limo stopped. “Ms. Vicci,” Jeffrey calls to me as he reaches in to take my hand. I step out of the car, and Jeffrey walks me to the front of the shop and then opens the door for me. We are greeted by a very handsome young man sitting behind the front desk. “Hi, Jeffrey. Is this the lucky lady?”

I look up to Jeffrey, who is scowling. “Jorge,” he says in a tone that lets the young man know he is not pleased. “Yes, this is Ms. Vicci. She is here to see Oscar.”

Once I am being escorted toward the back of the salon, Jeffrey walks out the door. I spend the next two hours being waited on. Champagne flutes continue to be handed to me as my makeup and hair are perfected. When I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t believe that it’s me. The dark circles that were under my eyes have miraculously disappeared, and my skin looks like I’ve lost ten years of age. I was in my early twenties the last time my skin looked this flawless.

“Sei Bellissima.” Oscar waits for a moment, and when I don’t respond, he asks, “Ti piace?”

“Yes, yes, I like it very much.” It’s then that I realize he has spoken to me in Italian, but I replied in English. “Scusca, si, lo amo,” I reply to him.

Oscar laughs, placing both of his hands on my shoulders. “You are quite lovely, Ms. Lillian, and I’m impressed that you understood me and took the time to reply in our own language.”

With a squeeze of my shoulders, Oscar turns my chair just as I see Jorge walking toward us with my dress bag from earlier today. “Mr. Eastwick asked that you dress before he picks you up. Everything you need including your shoes is inside the bag.”

I take the bag from Jorge and follow him to the back, where I am given privacy to change. Delicately, I step into the dress and slide the zipper up. I have no idea how I look until I step back into the salon. Oscar shouts, “Bellissima,” which means beautiful. Several women give me a scowl, and I think to myself that they are just jealous.

“Grazie, Oscar,” I say as I turn and look at myself in the mirror on the wall where I was sitting just a few moments ago. I suck in a deep breath at how beautiful I look. I may have started out the day not wanting any part of this, but now I couldn’t be more pleased that Ashlynn did this for me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Jeffrey. “Are you ready, Ms. Vicci? Mr. Eastwick is waiting for you.”

I don’t think I could feel any more like Cinderella than I do right now. Jeffrey takes the garment bag from my hand, which now contains my clothes from earlier today, and I follow behind him. Once we step out onto the curb, the passenger door flies open, and out steps Linc in a black dinner suit. If I thought he looked handsome in his tux, he is equally hot in his fitted black suit and black tie. I see the hitch in his breath once again, as if he hasn’t seen me in this dress before. Linc holds his hand out to me, and I politely place mine in his as he leads me into the back seat. The door closes behind us, leaving our breathing the only sounds in the car.

“You look absolutely radiant, Lillian. You take my breath away.”