The soon-to-be finished retail space at Paper Moon had been cleared of all construction equipment. The new carpeting was in place, as were most of the fixtures on the wall. Temporary racks held hanging clothes, while large tables were covered with sweaters, bags and shoes. There was even a display of costume jewelry. The dressing rooms were clearly marked and several mirrors had been set up around the room. Music played through hidden speakers.
All the clothes had, per the invitation, been delivered in advance. There were notes attached to most of them. Things like “I wore this once. Not sure why I bought it.” Or “It shrank in my closet, which is weird because I never wore it.”
Against the far wall was a mobile bar and buffet. Mostly finger foods easily eaten while shopping, along with a constant supply of girlie cocktails.
Taryn had been hoping to get ten or fifteen women to come to the exchange, but there were at least twice that many. Several were unfamiliar, but Isabel quickly made introductions. It didn’t take long for the noise level to start climbing.
Madeline was in charge of the exchange. She suggested pieces to different people and offered to find matching shoes or bags.
“She knows about the outfits for Bailey, right?” Taryn asked in a low voice.
Isabel nodded. “I got her a suit but also bought her a dress.”
Taryn stared at her. “Why?”
“I thought it would look good on her. It’s navy, with a jacket. She can dress it up or down. Take off the jacket and it’s a nice dress for dinner out. A suit is more limited. This is Fool’s Gold. Where is she going to wear a suit every day? But a dress can be worn a lot of different places.”
Taryn nodded. “You’re right. I’m just so nervous.”
She’d left the shopping to Isabel. The other woman already had her credit card number on file. What were a couple more purchases?
“Holy shit, Taryn, what size are you?”
Pia Moreno stepped out of one of the dressing rooms wearing one of Taryn’s castoffs. The purple dress looked great until Pia turned and Taryn could see the zipper was about three inches from closing.
“You just had a baby,” Montana said sympathetically.
“Yeah, but my waist will never be this small.” Pia glared at Taryn. “Seriously, you’re what? A four?”
Taryn nodded. “Mostly.”
“They’ll fit me,” Noelle said, studying the dress Pia had on. “But your clothes are way too sophisticated. I am, however, having a serious love affair with some of your shoes.”
Annabelle Stryker, a petite redhead, walked up. “Everyone here is too tall. The only one I could exchange with is Consuelo, and we don’t share the same fashion sense.”
Taryn thought about Consuelo’s love of cargo pants and tank tops, then looked at Annabelle’s floral-print dress. “I can see how that wouldn’t work.” Not that Consuelo was at the exchange. She was still off honeymooning with Kent.
Taryn saw Bailey stepping out of one of the dressing rooms. The other woman had on a navy dress that came to just above her knees. It fit well, skimming over her curves. The scoop neck flattered without being too low. When she slid into the cropped jacket, Taryn understood what Isabel meant about the outfit being versatile.
Taryn crossed to the accessory table and grabbed a couple of scarves, then picked up a necklace and earrings.
“Try these on,” she said, offering the costume jewelry to Bailey. “Nothing says a woman is accomplished more than chunky jewelry.”
Isabel grinned. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“It’s a little-known truth in boardrooms across America.”
Bailey laughed. “I’ll try them, but I have to warn you, I’ve never owned a scarf—except to wear in the snow.”
“Then this is a first,” Taryn said as she put the scarf over Bailey’s shoulders.
Five minutes later they’d all agreed the dress was a hit, that the navy, cream and gold scarf worked, but with the dress alone. With the jacket, it was too busy. And that, yes, chunky jewelry made a woman look as though she was in charge.
“You did good,” Taryn whispered to Isabel when Bailey had returned to the dressing room. “That dress fits her perfectly.”
“I do have an eye,” Isabel said with a grin.
Nevada Janack, the triplet who’d greeted her and Angel at the wedding, came over with a deep purple Jimmy Choo tote in her hands. The leather was soft, with rows of buckles on the front.
“I don’t understand this,” Nevada said, lightly stroking the bag. “I don’t even carry a purse. But I have to have this. I have to.”
“Bag love is pure,” Taryn told her. “Especially the first time. I hope the two of you will be very happy together.”
Nevada nodded. “I’m putting in more than five dollars. It’s so beautiful—how could I buy it for so little? It would be wrong.”
As the money was going to a women’s shelter, Taryn was happy to encourage people to put in as much as they could afford.
She looked around at the event, pleased to see so many women trying on clothes and shoes. The bowl they were using to collect money for the exchange had already been emptied once that night, and it was going to have to be emptied again.
Taryn thought about how Mayor Marsha had forced her to solve the Bailey problem on her own and had a feeling that once again the wily politician had been right.