I feelgrosslyunderdressed by comparison. I should’ve selected something better than a pink cotton baby tee, denim skirt and black sandals. At least my toenails are pretty…
“So you’re Molly!” Lucienne says cheerfully.
I manage to smile. “Hello, Lucienne. So nice to meet you.”
“Please, call me Lucie. Nicholas told me everything. So you’re together.” Her eyes sparkle.
Does she know I’m just a fake girlfriend? “Seems that way.”
“How exciting. Let’s get you dressed for the gala. I’m so sad I’m going to miss it. If I’d known Nicholas would be attending with his girlfriend, I would’ve never agreed to a dinner date with my husband.” She might not want to have a date night with her husband tonight, but the flush in her cheeks betrays how much she loves him.
“I don’t think hanging out at a gala is worth forgoing a romantic time with your husband.” I’m not worth giving up a couple’s night out.
“Yes, but Sebastian said it’s a big deal that Nicholas is bringing a girlfriend. He doesn’t really date.”
We aren’t really dating, either, but I keep that to myself. The first rule of fake dating is you don’t let others know you’re fake-dating.
She leads me into the store, her stilettos clacking quietly on the pale golden tiles. Fancy chandeliers glow over us. A few clerks nod in greeting.
Finally, she waves at a slim Asian woman in an ivory scoop-neck tunic and black pencil skirt. “Julie, can you please show us something suitable? My friend Molly here is going to the Pryce Foundation charity gala tonight. I want her to outshine everyone at the event.”
The woman smiles. “Of course. This way. Would you like some refreshments?”
“A mimosa for me. How about you?”
“Um… I’ll have the same.” It’s probably safe to follow Lucie’s lead.
I expect to try on multiple dresses until I’m exhausted from taking things on and off. But it doesn’t work that way. Lucie and I sit on a loveseat with glossy catalogues spread out in front of us. Two racks with dresses stand to our left, and I look at the photos, wondering if I’m supposed to select a few. After a couple of mimosas, a lot of things seem fantastic.
Julie says, “Given her curves and coloring—it’s probably best if we stick to bold shades and simple cuts.”
“The fabric has to be right, though,” Lucie murmurs. “Something silk… Maybe chiffon…?”
“Of course.”
Julie picks out six photos. Lucie taps her chin with a well-manicured index finger then looks at me. “What do you think?”
I think I’m overwhelmed. I smile. “They all look great.”
“But I think maybe these two would be the best.” She points to a super-slinky blue dress and a red one with a fitted top and a side slit.
I don’t have what it takes to pull off the blue one, but maybe the other will be okay. “Let’s try the red.”
“Fantastic choice.” Lucie nods.
Julie leads me to the dressing room, where the red dress is already hanging inside. I change into it. The dress has a built-in bra with surprisingly good support. The fabric on this dress isn’t so thin that it shows panty lines, so that’s good, too.
I study myself in the mirror. The outfit’s glamorous and fits well, but I feel kind of awkward. Like a little girl dressing up with adult clothes. I’ve never tried on a dress this beautiful, and I don’t know if I can do it justice.
When I come out, Lucie nods approvingly. “That looksreallygood on you, Molly.”
“You think?”
“Yes. It’s perfect. I love it.”
Her smile is so genuine, my anxiety starts to ease.
She says, “But you need shoes—something that will add at least three inches to your height. And jewelry. This look won’t be complete without a necklace.”
