“I don’t blame you. It sounds gruesome.” She put our cupcake plates in the sink. “Ready to try on some dresses?”
“I should tell you, Alex. I rarely wear dresses. I have a few long skirts, but otherwise . . .”
She waved away my comment. “It’s never too late to start. Come on.”
Her extra bedroom was a revelation. The entire room was a walk-in closet, just as she’d said. It was ruthlessly clean and orderly. There were two levels of hanging clothes and she explained that they were switched every six months, depending on the season. Everything was hung in order of color, naturally. Dresses, pants, blouses, suits, and coats.
In the center was a chaise longue, because why wouldn’t you take a quick nap in your walk-in closet?
The woman had at least a hundred pairs of shoes, too, all neatly arranged by color and style. There were hooks for belts and scarves, a long row of purses, and dozens of drawers filled with sweaters and lingerie. Three long, thin drawers pulled out to reveal dozens of cubbyholes for every type of jewelry known to man. Or woman.
“You are my idol,” I whispered.
She laughed. “I’ve selected a few things that I thought you might like. They’re over here. If you don’t like something, I won’t be offended.”
“My tastes are pretty simple.”
“I don’t agree,” she said, “but we can argue about it as we go along. Here’s the first thing I thought would suit you.”
She held up a simple black suit. Not simple at all, I amended as I stared more closely at the gorgeous material and the softness of the lining.
“It’s pants and a jacket,” I said.
“It’s a tuxedo suit. Yves Saint Laurent. Black pants, black jacket. Silk. Simple, elegant, sexy.”
“It’s beautiful.” The jacket was the thickest, softest silk and fitted through the waist. “The shoulders are perfect. Do you have a blouse that you wear with it?”
“No.”
“Ah . . .”
“Try it on.”
I tried it on and was truly surprised. I looked sexy. And high-powered, and taller than usual. Did I mention sexy? The pants were slim around the hips and flared at the heel. “I want.”
“I have a fabulous black bustier you’re welcome to wear with that. I’ve also got a few dresses I want to show you. And if you happen to see something still hanging that appeals to you, grab it and try it on.”
“Have you worn everything in here?”
She scanned her clothes. “I have a few new goodies I haven’t worn yet, but mostly yes. I like variety. And I like to keep people guessing, even if it’s just them wondering what I’m going to wear that day. It sounds silly, but keeping them guessing about my wardrobe is just one more way to make an impression. And it amuses me.”
“You do make an impression,” I murmured. “You really do.”
? ? ?
I tried on twelve dresses and six pantsuits, although it was difficult to call them pantsuits. That term conjured up a dowdy image that didn’t appeal to me, while Alex’s suits were sharply tailored and powerful and gorgeous. And they all looked fantastic on me. It was such a revelation. And fun. Who would’ve guessed?
After three hours, I had whittled my choices down to two.
“I absolutely love the black tuxedo, but I think I want to go for this dress.” I held up the little black silk dress that fit me better than anything I’d ever worn.
“It’s Halston,” she said on a sigh.
“He was a genius.” The dress wrapped around me like a sarong while hiding flaws and accenting my better parts. It was a simple design yet it made me feel glamorous and powerful. How did they do it?
“Derek will be in heaven.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” I said, tingling a little. “But he would love the tuxedo, too. I wish I could find something like that somewhere.”
“I’ll call my shopper at Nordstrom and have her hunt one down.”
“You have a shopper?”
“Yes, she calls me when something comes in that she thinks I’ll like.”
“We live different lives.”
“Maybe a little.” She stared at my shoes.
“I guess I’d better go shoe shopping,” I said, my spirit sagging.
“Won’t be necessary.” She strolled over to her shoe rack, found what she wanted, and handed the pair to me.
“Oh, my goodness,” I whispered, staring at the black satin pumps. “Those are sensational. But I can’t—”
“Try them on.” She smiled serenely. “Men like those shoes.”
“You’re the devil.” But I tried them on and looked down at my feet. I didn’t recognize them. I stood and wobbled over to the full-length mirror. “Oh, my.”
“Very sexy,” she said. “You’ll practice walking. Take them with you. And this.” She handed me a small black bag.
“It’s so pretty. It’s perfect. I can’t.”
“It’ll make me happy if you will.”
I laughed. “You make cupcakes and loan me clothes. I am bringing nothing to this friendship.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve had more fun in these past three hours than I have in months. That’s much more precious than cupcakes.”