Page 72 of Sex Coach

Twenty-Four

Michelle

M y room was a disaster.

I'd made it home just that morning, still glowing and warm from the two nights I'd spent with Jake, and I'd made up my mind. It was time to stop hiding from life .

That meant I needed to do some shopping. Desperately .

A look inside my closet was mostly a dismal one, revealing more gray and black, kind of like the New York streets – although not as messy. I had some color in there, but most of it was tucked off into the back, all the pretty things I'd picked up from end of the season clearance sales and had never worn .

Those pieces provided a decent start, but I needed more, plus some other basic pieces, like blue jeans that didn't require a belt to stay up .

I had to stop hiding inside my clothes. Just because I was plump didn't mean I had to dress like I did .

Bringing up one of my favorite sites on my phone, I studied some of the outfits I was always pinning, but never trying and then did some detective work. I was too organized to just go out and hope for the best. Besides, I hadn't dressed in any sort of recognizable style in years – I wasn't even sure if I'd know how .

Maybe what I needed was a personal shopper .

"Hmmm..."

A couple of phone calls netted me exactly what I needed. A cancellation at Saks had me an appointment, and I had just enough time to shower and dress and make it there – I could even take the subway. I knew how to get there now. I'd been studying subway maps in preparation of my next excursion .

I just hadn't expected it to be so soon...or to replenish my soon-to-be-depleted wardrobe .

* * *

"Y ou have agreatfigure," the older woman said in a delighted tone. "Oh, there are so many pieces we have that are going to look darling on you ."

"Okay." I gave her a game smile and returned the iPad, hoping it would serve some purpose. I'd filled out a questionnaire that asked me my color preferences, personal style – did I prefer casual or dressy? – fabrics, and on and on. Hopefully, it would steer the woman to helping me made the right kind of choices .

I didn't want to leave here looking like my mother had dressed me. Nothing against my mother, but she was a few years older .

Her sense of style reflected it too .

My personal shopper's name was Alice, and she beamed at me before offering me a glass of wine. Knowing I might need it, I accepted and a few minutes later, sat there sipping while she went out to do her thing .

It didn't take me more than five minutes to realize I'd been worrying about nothing. Alice, grandma looks aside, knew her stuff .

I now possessed boho-styled peasant skirts, jeans that went up high enough up that, when I bent over, my butt wasn't hanging out. There were also poet blouses, sweaters that followed my figure without being tight, and others that were fuller but stopped just a bit lower than my waist line, allowing those curves she was so delighted with to shine, as she'd described it .

I went into the dressing room with my first armful and came out with eight different pieces I wanted .

"Excellent!" she said, clapping her hands. "That gives me a direction !"

That might not have been a good thing, I realized over an hour later. I signed the slip for my purchases, gamely not agonizing over how much I'd spent – after so many years of buying blah – and very little of it – I smiled up at Alice. "You are a wonder," I told her .

"It has been a pleasure, Michelle." She beamed at me before pulling me in for a hug .

I delighted in the fact that I was able to tolerate it. Once upon a time, I'd been a hugger myself. Impulsively, I squeezed her back before turning to look at all the stuff I somehow had to transport back to my loft .

"This is going to be...fun," I said dryly .

"We can get you a car, if that would make it easier," she offered .

"A car. An elephant...maybe a couple of them. They could probably carry a lot of this," I replied with a sigh .

She laughed and picked up her phone. "One elephant coming up ."

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