“Roth or Hagar?” he asks.
“Roth for nostalgia and big hits. Hagar for ballads.”
Damien chuckles. “That’s my girl,” he says, and my heart swoops in my chest. It’s obviously just a figure of speech, but it still catches me off guard. Damien turns up the music, and we don’t talk for the rest of the drive which is probably best.
We pull up to another bougie shopping area that I’ve never been to. As we walk inside, I get flashbacks of the other day. I can’t help but wonder if he was planning on a repeat of that night.
Once we are inside, a thin woman who doesn’t look like she’s ever smiled a day in her life says a few things to Damien under her breath. Her eyes sweep over me before she pulls out a tape measure and asks me to hold out my arms. Three measurements and another glare later, she walks towards the back of the store.
“Do we have to buy clothes here?” I ask.
“What’s wrong with it?” he asks.
“Nothing. It’s just so…stuffy.”
“This is the kind of clothing you should be wearing, Annelise. It’s classy, but sexy,” he answers.
“I know. I’m just not used to that,” I mutter, turning over a price tag on a fur coat before sucking in a breath.
“Where do you shop?” he asks.
“Recently? Consignment shops,” I answer while holding a yellow dress up to my body and looking in the mirror.
“Did your last job really pay that bad?” he asks before adding, “That’s not a good color for you. It flushes you out.”
“My current life is just that expensive,” I say, ignoring the last part but all the while putting the dress back on the rack. Damien gives me a look like he’s trying to figure me out, although I’m not sure what figuring out there is to do. He’s seen my resume. He knows most of my story. And yet, the lack of empathy on his face tells me he doesn’t care.
“Miss Bates, we’re ready for you in the fitting room,” the woman says. I look at Damien who nods me forward, and I take a breath before following Miss Personality back.
It’s a repeat of the other night, except this time there’s more material involved. Of course no pants or below the knee dresses. Luckily, they’re at least long enough that if I bend over, I won’t be showing the whole office my ass. At least not all of it. Wearing clothes like these feels wild. I always wondered what it would be like. As I stare at myself in the mirror, I don’t have to wonder anymore.
One of the zippers is a bit out of reach, and I hit the call button. The curtain opens, but Damien steps in instead of the witchy woman.
“Are you supposed to be in here?” I ask.
“Considering the amount of money I am about to drop, I think it’s safe to say I can do anything I want,” he answers. Ifhe wasn’t one of the richest men in Las Vegas, I might feel bad. “Here, let me,” he says, stepping behind me to zip the dress.
I look at myself in the mirror. It’s a gold dress with a slight flair. The way it hugs my body gives me the perfect shape. It shows off my curves while hiding the areas that have gone soft with motherhood.
“What do you think?” he asks. I almost forget he was standing there.
“I’m not used to wearing things like this,” I admit.
“What kind of things?” he asks. “Expensive things? Pretty things? Things that suit you and are worthy to be worn by you?” he asks.
“All of the above?” I answer.
Damien spins me around to face him. “What part of your body are you worried about.”
“Is this a trick question?” I ask.
“Do I look like I want to stand around making jokes?” he asks.
“You could. I do it every time I look in the mirror,” I say, but Damien does not think it’s funny.
“Don’t do that,” he says sharply. “Don’t put yourself down. Half of why I hired you was because you fit every characteristic of what I am looking for. That includes day and night shifts. Questioning yourself is questioning my judgement. Do you question my judgement?”
“No, sir,” I answer.
