"Believe it or not, there are companies that source this stuff." I leaned against the back of the couch, my arms crossed, and watched her look through the dresses.
"So did you rent all this?" Hazel asked, picking up a beautiful amber necklace. The silver on it had a nice patina. I could tell it was well-made.
"I bought it."
Hazel looked at me wide-eyed. "Give me a moment to carefully put this necklace down before I drop it—you bought all of this stuff just for me to pick out one outfit to wear?" Hazel sounded a little shrill. She grabbed one of the dresses. "This is vintage Chanel. You don't just buy this."
"There're no refunds, so it's all yours." I smirked.
"All mine?"
I pushed off the couch and rested my hands on Hazel's waist and kissed her. "I also had them pull some vintage lingerie, but the boob cups were weird and pointy."
Hazel laughed. "They didn't quite have that down pat. Plus I don't think I'm quite the size women were back in the fifties."
"I don't know. The buyer seemed to think she found something nice. Maybe later you can model it," I said, kissing her neck. "Which dress are you going to pick?" I asked.
"I don't know," Hazel said. "Can you give me a hint about where we're going?"
"Nope," I said. "Anything here would be appropriate."
After deliberating, she chose a nineteen-thirties gown with feather sleeves in a blush pink. I dressed while Hazel put on the gown.
"I'm so jealous of your bathroom," she called out. "I just want to sit in the huge tub with a book and a cup of tea and some snacks, if we're being honest.”
"They don't make gowns like this anymore," she said, coming out and marveling at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the walk-in closet. "If this was the closet I had to live in for years, I wouldn't have had any complaints," I heard her mutter to herself.
I grinned and brought over the box of jewelry.
"Did you seriously buy all this jewelry?" she asked me. "This is a Van Cleef necklace. It's a lot of money."
"It's a gift," I said, draping the long chain of white gold with pearls surrounded by gold beading around her neck.
Hazel looked like an Old Hollywood movie star. The dress accentuated her curves, and the necklace framed her face.
"One more thing," I said when she walked out into the expansive master bedroom. I proudly showed her the final big white box. With a flourish, I pulled the lid off. Hazel carefully picked up the white fur garment, and it unfolded and rippled in the soft light.
"Wow," she breathed. "A vintage white fur cape. It goes perfectly with the dress. This is beautiful. I don't even want to touch it. I want to bury my face in it, but I don't want to get makeup on it."
I wrapped it around her shoulders. "It looks amazing on you," I said. "You are dressed to impress. All the guys' eyes are going to roll out of their heads."
I offered an arm and escorted her downstairs. There was a SUV limousine waiting for us in front of my condo building.
"Overcompensating much?" Hazel teased.
"This is just how I roll," I quipped as I helped her inside.
"Drink?" I offered, popping a bottle of prosecco as the limo pulled out into traffic. She took the bottle from me, took a swig, then grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to her, kissing me.
I pulled her closer; the cape slid off her shoulders.
"You know, I've never actually gone all the way in a limousine," I said.
"Sounds dangerous," she said as my hand crept under the dress.
59
Hazel
