“I might. I have the money now.”
Alexander stiffened, slowly turning to look fully at me. His brow lifted. “Mrs. Creed, was that a goddamn joke?”
I lifted my chin. “MissCreed,” I corrected him, “and you’re not that observant. I’m a size eight. These won’t fit.” I tossed the shoes at him, and he fumbled to catch them with an aggravated grunt. He bent to pick up the one that fell on the ground, the other loosely held by the laces, and he faltered, his face scrunching in agony. He dropped to a knee, and I rushed forward.
“Alexander? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Go.Go,” he urged, looking panicked now. “Don’t draw attention to me. Please.”
His cancer. It had to be. The fear hit me harder than it should have. I barely knew him. I shouldn’t have cared like that but I did. “But you’re in pain,” I said softly.
“I’ve handled worse,” he said, forcing himself back onto his feet. He swiped his hair out of his face and sat the stupid shoes on the shelf. “Please go, Arden. This is your night. I want you to enjoy yourself.”
No one had ever said that to me before. Not without meaning something transactional by it.
“Arden! Where are you?” Heath shouted.
I bit my lip and Alexander shooed me away. Hesitant, I hurried out of the aisle of shoes and found Heath at the fitting room. Mickey and Monty were dragging chairs over from the thrifted furniture section, settling in as Heath draped clothes throughout one of the fitting rooms. She stepped aside as Alexander took the stool next to Mickey.
“Alright, here’s the drill,” Heath announced. “We’ve got fancy on the right and casual on the left. You will try on everything and show it to us.Everything.”
I scanned the clothes, my eyes landing on a pile of lingerie. My face heated.
“Okay maybe not those,” Heath said in a whisper loud enough everyone could hear, Mickey and Monty chuckling. Then, less jokingly, she actually lowered her voice. “Also don’t worry—those aren’t secondhand. They just get donated by the bigger stores when they have a surplus. Do you want me to help you change? I can stay,” she offered.
I shook my head. “I can dress myself. Thanks.”
“Sure.” Then she closed the curtain shut.
I stood awkwardly scanning all the clothes for a second. I decided to start simple and take off what I had on. Doing so, however, meant exposing myself to the mirror. I sucked in a deep breath seeing myself naked. It had been a long time since I’d seen myself fully. I tended to avoid most mirrors. Shame filled me as my eyes scraped over the brutal scarring from my old burn wounds on my thighs and hands. Several other nickslittered me but my gaze fastened to the Creed and Doll ink on my forearm. I covered it with my palm self consciously.
“You okay in there, Arden?” Mickey called.
“Yeah,” I answered quickly, grabbing the first thing on the closest hanger and tugging on lingerie. I couldn’t exactly try all those clothes on nude. The lacy underwear and bra were both black and stupidly revealing. I hated them, but they got the job done.
I put on jeans next and a long sleeved, striped shirt. It dipped low, showing my cleavage and tugging down on the hem only made it more revealing. I sighed and rolled my shoulders back, trying to feel confident before I drew back the curtain. “Ta-da,” I mumbled.
A round of whoops and applause immediately erupted. “Those boobs! See I told you she has great fucking breasts,” Monty hollered.
Heath twirled her finger. “Let’s see that ass.”
Grinning a bit, I held out my arms and turned slowly.
“Great ass,” Mickey said, winking at me as I blushed.
All their eyes veered toward Alexander, waiting for his input. I found myself waiting too, wanting his opinion. He straightened, rubbing his jaw and looking me up and down. “Nice,” he said, offering a small grin.
“Nice? She looks hot,” Heath scoffed. Then she went into the fitting room and selected the next thing she wanted me to try on.
We continued like that for the next hour until I was genuinely laughing and smiling along with them. Monty and Heath began trying things on too, Mickey ordering the girl at the front counter to give him pen and paper. He proceeded to rate our outfits, his expression pinched and serious. “Nah, it’s a miss, I’m afraid,” Mickey said to Monty, cringing at her boa, plaid button up, cowgirl boots and booty shorts combo. “Negative one.”
“You cannot give usnegativescores, Delgado,” she complained.
Heath laughed and grabbed Monty and Mickey by the wrist. “Let’s go get some liquor from the shop across the street.” She turned to Alexander and me. “We’ll be back soon.” They yelled over one another about their outfits and scores, Mickey trying to referee, as they left the store throwing a wad of cash at the cashier as they passed, still in their get-ups.
My eyes drifted to Alexander’s. Our gazes caught, his skin clammy as he remained hunched on the stool. I cleared my throat. “Well,” I said with a chuckle and made sure to give him my worst look of seduction, “you’ve got yourself quite a set of assets, Alexander Creed.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Another joke? It must be my lucky night.”
