Page 41 of Perfect Assumption

I choke on air. “What kind of tape?”

Her eyes sparkle. “Honey, where have you been living? Mars?”

“No. Brewster.”

She tsks as she undoes the zipper. “Let’s get you back into your own clothes. Then I’ll get you a roll.”

“It comes in rolls?” I’m incredulous. My grandmother never talked about this with me.

Compassion crosses Irina’s face. “You don’t get out much, do you.”

“This will be my first dressy night out since my senior prom,” I respond honestly.

A myriad of emotions crosses Irina’s face. Seconds later, I’m being pulled into her arms, and she murmurs, “Then let’s make certain you feel as beautiful as any Cinderella should.”

“Things didn’t end up so well for her that night,” I remind her, sliding out of the dress, amazed it bounces back to its much smaller size.

“They do in the end.”

“That’s true.

“And really, darling. Isn’t that all that matters?”

* * *

A new dress,a lecture on lingerie tape, and recommendations on how to do my hair and makeup, I finally escape Saks. I snag a cab and immediately pull out my cell to call Carys.

She answers on the first ring. “How did it go?”

“I found a dress.”

“Excellent.” She lets out a sigh of relief, causing me to check out my clothes exposed due to my open jacket. Do I really dress so dowdy? Sula’s been urging me to go on a shopping expedition for years. I frown in consternation as Irina’s words whisper through my mind. I just can’t think of them now. They’re for later. Much later.

“And I was given my first ever lecture about lingerie tape.” The cab driver begins to cough frantically. I frown as I scoot closer to the door, hoping he’s not ill. “Apparently, I’m supposed to take pieces of it and place it across my—”

“Oh, my God, Angie! Hold on!” Carys screeches. A moment later I hear a clattering before she’s cracking up in my ear. “I had you on speaker because I was feeding Ben, and David walked in. I think I was in such shock you had never heard about tit tape before I could get the words out to tell you.”

“They call it…” I sputter.

“Tit tape. Yep,” Carys confirms. There’s a pause before Carys snaps, “Oh, for the love, David. You’ve seen me apply it. Deal with me discussing it.”

I can’t stop the giggle that escapes. “No wonder Irina was so shocked I’d never heard about it before.”

“With the kind of clients she sees? I bet she was.” Now, Carys is chortling.

“I feel so naive.”

“No, you just have been surviving. And it’s wrong of people to make assumptions about you based on the way you look.”

“How do I look?”Scared. Frightened.

“Like a fashion model. An exclusive one at that.”

“Um, Carys? Have you been hitting the wine?” Because I don’t know who she’s talking about, but it’s not me.

“You’ll see soon enough,” she says mysteriously. Then she hangs up.

I throw my phone in my bag and pull out my wallet as the car slows and pulls up outside Carys and David’s building. Swiping my card, I approve the payment and leave the driver a tip that will likely shock him as much as the discussion of tit tape did. He deserves it after overhearing even half of that conversation.