Page 40 of The Fake Date Agreement

The woman smiles. “Perfect. If you’ll follow me.”

I thought the service in a fancy store like this would be cold and impersonal, but her smile is genuine. She leads the way through the store. By the time I’m asking about where we’re going, we’ve already arrived, and the woman is drawing a curtain closed, so it’s like we’re in our own private section of the store.

My nerves relax a little more.

The woman stops beside a silver rail already filled with clothes, and I run my eyes over it. None of the clothes are the all-black I’d been expecting. There’s a mix of colorful skirts, dresses, pants, and even jeans. They’re not the usual baggy jeans I live in, but high-waisted, wide-leg style jeans.

“Like I said on the phone, Tobie needs everything. Every day basics, some nicer outfits for evenings and nights out that will make her feel beautiful,” Javier says as Reid wanders over to a white boucle armchair and sinks into it.

I stare at Javier, surprised.

I thought they were bringing me here to turn me into a sex kitten, unless they don’t think I have it in me to be a sex kitten.

I don’t know if I should be relieved or disappointed.

“I see.” The woman gives me a once-over. “You’re a size ten to twelve?”

She can tell that in one glance?

“Uh, twelve.” I blush as I glance at Javier. “A little smaller on top.”

A whole size smaller on the top.

The woman angles her head as she gives my body another scan. “Your clothes look at least twice that size. I have other pear-shaped customers who prefer to cover up completely, but I have some ideas to flatter your body without showing off too much if that’s what you want?”

“Wait? There’s a way toflatter?”

I will literally marry this woman on the spot if she can achieve what I have spent years failing at.

Her smile is warm. “There is. I’ve pre-selected some outfits, but now that I’ve met you and seen your coloring, I have some other ideas.”

She sounds confident. It’s not like she’s just saying it to be nice, but like she actually means it.

I glance at Javier and Reid to see what they make of this.

“We’ll leave you in Clarissa’s capable hands,” Javier says.

“But I thought…”

I’m not sure what I thought.

He smiles at me. “That we’d put you in short dresses and tight tops?”

“Well, yes, actually.”

“Like I said, it’s about the woman,” Javier says. “And it’s about you feeling good. Otherwise, why would Marc believe we’re making you deliriously happy ifyoudon’t believe it?”

It’s hard to disagree with that.

We’re in the store for hours.

Javier and Reid sit around chatting, texting, and flipping through magazines, and in between, they chat with me as I try on endless outfits.

I learn the baggier the clothes, the bigger you look. Clarissa knows fashion, and she is highly efficient at gently coaxing me to try on things that I would have never picked out in a million years.

I go from pulling on the hems and sleeves of everything I try on to accepting there are clothes that can do the impossible—make me feel good. Javier and Reid’s jaws dropping when I step out of the dressing room doesn’t exactly hurt, either.

My doctor diagnosed me with Hashimoto’s disease when I was seventeen after months of losing control of my body. Finally, I had something to explain my packing on the pounds, my struggle to lose the weight, always being cold, and a tiredness that would knock me down and make exercise and going to school feel impossible.

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