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I’ve changed into the emerald-green dress suit that has two columns of gold buttons up the front, and shoulder pads. Actual shoulder pads. I laugh as I peer at my unrecognizable self in the mirror.
The dress is actually flattering on me, but it’s so far off my style spectrum, there’s no way I could have Matteo buy this for me. Ashley nailed the sizing somehow, but this is justnot it.
A soft knock sounds at my door. “Are you ready to come out?” Ashley’s voice chimes through.
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
Plucking at the heavy metal buttons on the front of the dress, I say, “Umm, I think I’m just going to move onto the next option.” I glance over at the bright-pink pants suit hanging on the rack next.
That’s also not my style.
“How about I just come in there instead?” she offers. I want to say no, but I guess if we’re going to get anything done, I’ll have to tell her none of these options are really me.
“Okay,” I say before she opens the door, pushing herself into the small space.
She takes me in with a bright smile on her face. “That looksamazingon you. And the fit. Your husband nailed your size right on the head.”
So Matteo’s the one who informed her of my size. She is right about that. The fitisperfect, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I’ll never find myself wearing this anywhere.
“Do you love it?” Ashley asks as I slide my hands down the fabric of the dress.
“It’s a. . . lovely dress.” I make eye contact with her reflection in the mirror. “It’s just. . . notreallymy style. At all, actually.”
“Really?” she gasps. She walks over to the rack that still has three more options: the pink pantsuit, a navy-blue pencil skirt with a matching suit jacket, and a black and tan lace dress. All of which make me want to melt away onto the floor of this dressing room.
She runs the tips of her perfectly manicured nails over her other choices before turning back to look at me. “Do you like any of these?”
Even though she’s rubbed me the wrong way since getting here, I still feel bad telling her I like nothing she chose for me, but I do so anyway. No sense in being unproductive. Shaking my head, I say, “Not really, I’m sorry. I’m just more of a comfy-casual kind of girl.”
Ashley folds one arm across her stomach, propping her other elbow on top of it as she rests her chin on her hand. She stands there and rakes her eyes up my body, like she’s studying me.
“That’s such a shame,” she says before dropping her hands back down to her sides. Her ice-blue eyes pierce me with awicked gleam. “I was really keeping what Matteolikes in mind when picking out these pieces.”
There she goes again, speaking about him like she knows him. “Do you know my husband?” I ask, tilting my head at her, intrigued to hear her response.
Her smile brightens a smidge. “You could say we know each other.” She lowers her voice as she steps closer. “That’s why he brought you in here to see me today.”
I narrow my gaze on her. I might have to tilt my head back to keep eye contact, but that’s only because she has her damn stripper heels on. “And how well do you know my husband, exactly?” I’m not sure I want to know the answer to this question, but I’m apparently a glutton for punishment.
Her devilish smirk widens more and the gleam in her eye is so bright now, I know I’m not going to like her answer. “Well, he was finishing in my mouth just last week.” She offers a loose chuckle that makes me want to punch her in the damn throat. “So, I guess you could say we know each otherverywell.” She eyes me up and down. “I wonder if he wants a repeat. You don’t really seem like the type that can satisfy a man like him.”
My fists clench by my sides as I do my best to keep my anger from boiling over, showing her she’s done exactly what she wanted to do—gotten under my skin. The piercing pain of my nails digging into my palm is the only thing keeping me from lashing out on the bitch.
“You can stop trying to make me jealous. You’re just embarrassing yourself, and you clearly don’t knowmy husbandvery well.” Her eye twitches as I refer to Matteo as my husband.
“Just because you had his dick in your mouth before he even met me means nothing to me. If he wanted you, he would’ve gone for seconds, and from the way he didn’t seem to pay much attention to you out there, I’m going to guess yourskillswere subpar.”
Ashley gasps, and if her forehead didn’t have the botox it does, I’m sure it would’ve raised to her hairline at my words. Before she can speak, she’s cut off by a hard knock at the door.
“Everything okay in there?” Matteo’s deep voice comes through the door.
“Yup,” I call out to him. “Everything is perfect.” Bringing my voice down to a whisper that only Ashley can hear, I add, “Right, Ashley?”
She lets out a small huff as she responds to Matteo in her disgustingly fake and high-pitched voice that’ll no doubt ring in my ears the rest of the day. “Yes, we’re just going over her likes and dislikes so I can nail down her looks.”
She brings her voice back down, so only I can hear her. “I’ll go pull some more options for you. Something more. . . your level,” she adds before stepping around me to exit the dressing room.
I’m fuming while I stare at the stupid dress she had me put on in the mirror. I tear it off my body, throw it to the floor in a heap, then stare at my reflection in the mirror.
