Page 369 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
If I can get past the discomfort of being the center of attention, this might end up being the perfect shopping scenario. There are four other women here who clearly know how to put together an outfit, and I’m positive they’ll all be willing to give me their opinions. If I’m lucky, they’ll just make all the decisions for me.
Tatum, Lennox’s wife, drops into a chair next to me. Before she can say anything, Captain Salano’s deep voice comes through the overhead speaker announcing our final descent.
“How are you feeling?” Tatum asks.
“A little overwhelmed? I’ve never been to New York.”
“It’s a lot,” she says. She reaches down and buckles her seatbelt. “Well, itcanbe a lot. But it can be great, too. And the shopping is next level.”
“I wouldn’t even have anything to compare it to. I’m very practical when it comes to my clothes. The only dress I own is the one I wore under my graduation robes when I finished my PhD. And I only bought that one because my sisters made me.”
She raises her eyebrows, but there’s no judgment in her expression—just surprise. “Sounds like you’re long overdue.” She studies me for a second before she adds, “You know, Flint wasreallyexcited about doing this for you today.”
I wave away her comment, ignoring the heat climbing up my cheeks. “Believe me, it’s only out of desperation. He’s seen the clothes I show up in every day. It’s nothing fancy enough to ever wear into public with him.”
“I doubt that’sallthis is about. If it were just about the clothes, he could have had a wardrobe hand-picked and shipped to Silver Creek.” She grins. “I think he wants you to have fun.”
I shake my head and lift my hands to my cheeks. “What is even happening, Tatum? What am I doing here?”
“All I know is Flint’s instructions were to spare no expense. So whatever is happening, it’s going to be amazing.”
Ten minutes later, we’re on the ground at LaGuardia walking across the tarmac from the plane to an awaiting helicopter. From there, we fly into the heart of New York City, land on the roof of a building I couldn’t identify again if I had to, then ride an elevator down to street level before Olivia takes charge and ushers us into what I think is a Bloomingdales.
And that’s when the whirlwind begins.
I don’t know how to shop, but Flint’s sistersdefinitelyknow. We start with the more casual things I’ll wear when I’mnoton the red carpet. Jeans. High-waisted pants that miraculouslymake my waist look tiny and my butt look better than I’ve ever seen it. And shirts that feel like regular T-shirts but are made of lighter, nicer fabric and look so much better. They keep their selections practical, picking out stuff I might actually wear even when I’mnotposing as Flint’s fake girlfriend.
At first, I try to minimize how much we’re spending, but Olivia waves off my concerns, Flint’s credit card clutched in her hand with obvious glee.
Three hours later, my feet are sore, I’m completely exhausted, and there are more bags between the five of us than we can easily carry.
Olivia just purchasedtennew pairs of shoes for me, which feels utterly ridiculous and indulgent, but I’ve given up trying to argue with her. And let’s be honest. The Frye ankle boots that I tried on last are possibly the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever put on my feet.ANDthey look amazing. Turns out, shoes that are both fashionable and comfortablearepossible.
You just have to be willing to pay for them.
Olivia is currently negotiating with the store clerk about how to get all the shoes and the rest of the two dozen bags we’ve been hauling around delivered to the airport. I didn’t even realize that was a thing we could ask for, but a no-limit AMEX card apparently goes a long way in this city.
“Perfect. Thank you so much,” Olivia finally says before spinning around to face the rest of us. “Load him up, girls,” she says, pointing back at the store clerk, a waifish man named Eduardo with bushy eyebrows and what looks to be a permanent frown. He opens a door behind the counter and holds it open with his foot while we hand him bag after bag. It seems awfully trusting, honestly. Olivia has been stingy with the receipts, not wanting me to see the total from each store, but I’ve been adding in my head as quickly as I can, and the number is…well, let’s just say it’s not an amount I’d feel comfortable losing to Eduardo.
“He won’t just steal them, right?” I whisper to Tatum.
“Absolutely not. This kind of thing happens all the time,” she assures me. We spent a little time on the plane talking about her childhood growing up as the daughter of a very famous celebrity chef, so I know I have every reason to believe her. But all this still feels so foreign to me.
“Okay,” Olivia says, rubbing her hands together once we’ve given Eduardo everything we’ve purchased so far. “It’s time for the best part.”
Kate lets out a little gasp. “Evening wear?”
Olivia nods, her grin wide. “Oscar de la Renta, here we come.”
“Oscar de la who?” I say as they usher me out the door.
“Oscar de la dream come true,” Lila says. She loops her arm through mine. “Do you have any thoughts on color?”
“Is it awful if I tell you I literally have zero thoughts about evening wear?” We turn left and follow Olivia down Madison Avenue.
“Not even about style? Sleeveless? Sequins? Ruffles of any kind?” Lila asks, her tone teasing.
“No ruffles and no sequins,” Olivia says, tossing a look over her shoulder. “Audrey needs something classy. Something sophisticated.”
