They all mumble beneath their breath. I lean over and give Xan a kiss on the cheek. That's my guy, right there.
"We can still wear our Chucks, right?" Ethan asks.
My biggest concern is finding a dress that isn't too frilly but not too plain either. That can't be too difficult, right?
* * *
Itisdifficult. It's impossible. Either it's super ruffled or beaded or embroidered or it's as plain as can be. I want a simple dress with cap sleeves, sweetheart neckline, and a skirt that doesn't remind me of the fifties. How could they even sit in that without the top part flipping up into their face?
Shea groans. "That won't work. She doesn't want all that fluff."
The saleswoman scoffs. "She should just try it. It might work."
"I'm telling you—" Shea continues bitching while I tune them out, taking off yet another lacy concoction fit for a Barbie doll. This is our fifth store and after nearly ten dresses in this one, I can understand why Shea's frustrated. The woman is just not listening.
"Know what?" I say, opening the fitting room curtain. "I'm going to go look for myself. This is ridiculous."
"You're in a strapless bra and panties with nylons and heels," the saleswoman gasps.
"Unless you have a robe you're going to let me wear, I'm going out there just like this. I don't even care anymore."
She twitches, then flits off to find me something to cover up with.
Shea laughs. "I can see you doing that."
"Ugh. I really would. I am sick of them not listening. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't know what I want. Stereotyping bitches."
I reach for the satin cover-up handed to me, put it on, and head straight to the sales floor.
I immediately turn right and I can see why the saleswoman was bringing me all those hideous dresses. They'reright here.
"Too lazy to walk across the store to the section of my preference?" I ask.
She presses her lips together.
"I think I would like to speak to your manager."
"But—"
"No. No 'buts'. Your. Manager.Now." I'm irritated, annoyed, and really pissed off that this chick wasn't willing to do her job properly but wanted a commission from my sale. Not happening.
"Oooh, she's in trouble now," Shea taunts as the manager comes walking up.
"Hello. I'm Nora, the boutique manager. How can I be of assistance?" she asks and I can already tell she's one of those people who is all business. I like that.
"The saleslady…" I draw a blank at her name. Did she even tell us her name? "I gave her a specific type of dress I wanted. This is the kind of, pardon my French, shit she brought in. It isnothinglike I described to her," I explain.
"Not too frilly is pretty self explanatory. It seems your girl lounging behind the counter was too lazy to walk over there," Shea points, "where we can clearly see the style of dress Tera is interested in."
"I do apologize and I can assure you, Corinne will be dealt with," Nora begins. "Let's go take a look. I think I have an idea of what you're looking for."
We follow and when we reach the section that is befitting to my request, Nora eyes me.
"Size three?"
I nod.
"Why don't you start with this one? I'll bring a few more back while you try that one."
