tell by the way he’s looking at her that I should get out of here, so I spin on my heel and run out of the store. As I exit, I’m overwhelmed by the food court hot dog smell and now I really think I’m going to throw up. “Sydney!” Henry calls. “Come back.”
Henry runs out after me. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say. And I mean it. Nothing is wrong. I just don’t want to shop in Oui and I don’t want to watch Henry pick up chicks in the mall. Those two things do not constitute something being wrong. If that’s the case, though, why do I feel the beginning of tears stinging my eyes? Why am I choking back a sob? I’m behaving like a jealous girlfriend and it’s truly embarrassing. “I’m sorry, Henry,” I say. “I think I’m distracted by the Sparling emails. I’m not feeling like myself. I should probably get home and figure out how I’m going to reply.”
“Not yet,” Henry says. He grabs my hand and drags me back into Oui without letting go until he’s pulled me all the way to the dressing rooms in the back. When we get there, an entire rack of clothes is waiting, along with a bench piled high with jeans and sweaters. “Everything here is in your size,” Henry says. He explains that Marina is an old friend from elementary school. “We’ve known each other forever and I called ahead, described you to Marina, and asked her to prepare items for you to try on. I knew you’d be short on patience.”
I bite my cheeks to suppress a smile over Henry’s thoughtfulness. “I’m sorry …” I say. “I thought Marina was one of your, you know, babes.”
“And if she was?” Henry says raising one eyebrow. “Would that bother you?”
“Of course not,” I say, but I’m pretty sure I’m lying and I don’t understand why I feel this way. Henry and I have been friends for years. I’ve never been jealous of his sexual escapades.
Henry comes close to me and whispers in my ear. “Marina would never go for me, but she might go for you,” he says. “In fact, I know you’re her type. She loves blondes.”
I feel my cheeks turning red. “Oh!” I don’t know what else to say.
Just then Marina appears. She points at a black leather chair next to the three-sided mirror. “Sit over there, Henry,” she says. She gestures for me to enter the fitting room with a long mirror. “I’ll bring things to you one by one. Tell me when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” I say.
“You should take off those sweats first,” she grins and steps out of the room.
“Um, OK,” I say feeling awkward and shy. I pull off my depressing clothes until I’m standing in nothing but my white cotton panties and my hideous bra. Marina is going to nickname me grannyboobs when she sees it. “I’m ready,” I say again.
Marina steps in holding a fitted little black dress with sheer chiffon shoulders and sleeves. It’s cinched at the waist and looks like it will hit about mid-thigh. She’s smirking at me and I feel the need to cover myself so I cross my arms over my chest. “We need to get you into a different bra,” she says. “We’ve got a whole bunch on sale now. Let me grab one for you. See stares at my breasts. “34C?” she asks.
“I think so,” I say.
Marina comes back into the dressing room with several black bras. She lifts a strapless one up first. “Let’s try this,” she says. I reach behind my back to unhook my bra, but Mariana’s fingers are already there. She’s a good few inches taller than me and easily puts her hands on my shoulders and slips the bra straps down my arms. I keep my hands at my sides as the bra falls to the floor. Marina startles me when she sucks in her breath and stares at me in the mirror, naked except for a thin pair of panties. “You’re stunning,” she says.
“Uh, thanks,” I mumble, not sure how to respond. Exposure is turning my nipples hard and I move to cover them with my hands. Marina gives me a strapless bra and as I push it into
Henry runs out after me. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say. And I mean it. Nothing is wrong. I just don’t want to shop in Oui and I don’t want to watch Henry pick up chicks in the mall. Those two things do not constitute something being wrong. If that’s the case, though, why do I feel the beginning of tears stinging my eyes? Why am I choking back a sob? I’m behaving like a jealous girlfriend and it’s truly embarrassing. “I’m sorry, Henry,” I say. “I think I’m distracted by the Sparling emails. I’m not feeling like myself. I should probably get home and figure out how I’m going to reply.”
“Not yet,” Henry says. He grabs my hand and drags me back into Oui without letting go until he’s pulled me all the way to the dressing rooms in the back. When we get there, an entire rack of clothes is waiting, along with a bench piled high with jeans and sweaters. “Everything here is in your size,” Henry says. He explains that Marina is an old friend from elementary school. “We’ve known each other forever and I called ahead, described you to Marina, and asked her to prepare items for you to try on. I knew you’d be short on patience.”
I bite my cheeks to suppress a smile over Henry’s thoughtfulness. “I’m sorry …” I say. “I thought Marina was one of your, you know, babes.”
“And if she was?” Henry says raising one eyebrow. “Would that bother you?”
“Of course not,” I say, but I’m pretty sure I’m lying and I don’t understand why I feel this way. Henry and I have been friends for years. I’ve never been jealous of his sexual escapades.
Henry comes close to me and whispers in my ear. “Marina would never go for me, but she might go for you,” he says. “In fact, I know you’re her type. She loves blondes.”
I feel my cheeks turning red. “Oh!” I don’t know what else to say.
Just then Marina appears. She points at a black leather chair next to the three-sided mirror. “Sit over there, Henry,” she says. She gestures for me to enter the fitting room with a long mirror. “I’ll bring things to you one by one. Tell me when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” I say.
“You should take off those sweats first,” she grins and steps out of the room.
“Um, OK,” I say feeling awkward and shy. I pull off my depressing clothes until I’m standing in nothing but my white cotton panties and my hideous bra. Marina is going to nickname me grannyboobs when she sees it. “I’m ready,” I say again.
Marina steps in holding a fitted little black dress with sheer chiffon shoulders and sleeves. It’s cinched at the waist and looks like it will hit about mid-thigh. She’s smirking at me and I feel the need to cover myself so I cross my arms over my chest. “We need to get you into a different bra,” she says. “We’ve got a whole bunch on sale now. Let me grab one for you. See stares at my breasts. “34C?” she asks.
“I think so,” I say.
Marina comes back into the dressing room with several black bras. She lifts a strapless one up first. “Let’s try this,” she says. I reach behind my back to unhook my bra, but Mariana’s fingers are already there. She’s a good few inches taller than me and easily puts her hands on my shoulders and slips the bra straps down my arms. I keep my hands at my sides as the bra falls to the floor. Marina startles me when she sucks in her breath and stares at me in the mirror, naked except for a thin pair of panties. “You’re stunning,” she says.
“Uh, thanks,” I mumble, not sure how to respond. Exposure is turning my nipples hard and I move to cover them with my hands. Marina gives me a strapless bra and as I push it into
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