“I can't believe how great these brakes are!” she remarked as she mashed the pedal for the umpteenth time, stopping about an inch before the car in front of us. The car moved, and in a flash, she pulled out in front of another car, zipping through traffic.
“I need a drink,” I muttered.
“Don't these fancy cars come with special hidden alcohol compartments?” Holly asked, making a hard left turn at a yellow light then pulling up with a screech and zooming back to parallel park in front of the boutique.
I sat there for a moment in a daze.
“Ha!” Holly said, looking at her phone. “Google Maps said it would take us thirty minutes, but I got us here in ten.”
“Good morning, Mr. Frost,” the boutique manager said when we walked in. She took one look at my face and handed me a scotch.
“We're looking for a dress for a black-tie holiday party. And shoes,” Holly said.
“She probably needs some sort of wrap and a purse,” I added, the drink calming my nerves after that drive.
“You mean I can't take my bedazzled snowflake purse to the fancy black-tie holiday party?” Holly asked with a laugh.
The saleswoman walked Holly around the boutique while another associate brought out several dresses.
“These just came in,” she said, hanging the dresses up.
“This is pretty,” Holly said, inspecting a shimmery black, off-the-shoulder dress with layers of ruffles around the hem.
“This trumpet silhouette will look great on a curvy figure,” the saleswoman said. “I know your boyfriend will be happy about that too.”
I felt a rush of satisfaction at hearing them refer to me as Holly's boyfriend.
“I guess I'll try it on,” Holly said.
“This fits pretty well,” Holly said, coming out of the dressing room. I was a little surprised. As much as I loved Holly in the fun costumes, in this dress, she looked elegant and chic.
“Maybe wear your hair in a messy side bun?” the saleswoman suggested, holding up Holly’s hair.
“You need shoes,” another sales associate said, coming over with several choices.
“Black seems a little boring,” Holly said, inspecting the shoes. Then she spied a pair of sparkly red, strappy stilettoes with huge bows to tie them around the ankles. Dangling diamond-and-ruby clasps sparkled. I saw Holly's eyes go wide.
“They have rubies on them,” the salesclerk coaxed, holding them up.
“Seriously? Get out. I can't wear those.”
She liked them, though.
“Buy them if you like them.”
“It's not too gauche for your holiday party?” she asked me.
“You can't be too conservative,” I told her. “It is Christmas after all.”
“They look nice with the outfit,” she said, slipping them on and tying the big red ribbons.
“Maybe some jewelry,” I prompted the sales associate. Holly started to protest.
“You can't have a neckline like that without a nice choker at least,” the associate said.
The store manager came back with an elaborate gold, ruby, diamond, emerald, and pearl necklace. “This would be perfect.”
“It has some seriousNutcrackervibes,” Holly said.
