Page 48 of The Renter
“That is one of the few days I’m taking off this year. It’s my mom’s birthday. I’m sure we will meet soon, and I have a conference room at the office blocked off for you all day tomorrow.”
Sitting in a black SUV, I’m whisked away to Saks to meet Adam’s stylist, Nikola. I’m grateful, yet the whole situation feels surreal. I wish I could talk to Adam.
“Dani!” waves a striking, tall, beautiful woman with Eastern European features as I step out of the SUV. “I’m Nikola.” I hear a Russian accent.
“Nice to meet you.”
“We have no time to waste,” she scurries us into the store and into a large fitting room. “Step one, let me measure you.” A cloth tape measure appears out of nowhere, and she swiftly says, “Thirty-two. Twenty-seven. Thirty-eight. Do you want me to pull for you, or do you want to walk around the store with me so I can see your style?”
“Either way.” I shrug.
“You’re so cute. Let’s walk around.” She guides me, making faces at dresses she does not like, and I smile. “One. Have you been?” I shake my head no. “You will love it.”
I don’t want to overstep, yet my mind is more curious about if Nikola ever styled Wendy. Has Adam ever had another girl get styled by her? Was this, like, his thing? “How long have you been working with Adam?” I ask.
“Years. He’s my best client.”
“Why’s that?”
“I buy. He wears.” She smiles. She’s clearly fond of Adam.
“He always looks good, so thank you.” I laugh.
“It’s very easy to style him; he could be a model. I would know. I played that game when I was younger.” She’s maybe a couple of years older than me and so striking.
“Did you do anything I would have seen?”
Nikola launches into career stories from her modeling days as we walk around looking at dresses. Her humor about transitioning from modeling to personal styling is a welcome distraction from my moment with Wendy.
“I don’t know about that one,” I say as she grabs a Carolina Herrera dress.
“Too boring?”
“No. It’s too expensive.”
She chuckles deeply. Like I said something so amusing to her. “You are a very special girl. Don’t look at the price tags.”
“Could we find, like, normal priced ones?” My request for more affordable dresses is met with even more laughter.
“You are so funny, Dani.” Her accent is really strong at this moment. “As long as you look beautiful, Adam will be happy.”
“We haven’t talked about this sort of stuff yet. Like, I don’t know what’s appropriate.”
“He spends over six figures a season on his closet. You’re fine. I promise. If he says anything, it’s my fault for styling you poorly, not yours.”
Adam’s world. It’s overwhelming.
“Do you want a glass of champagne?” Her arm gently lands on my shoulder. “You look stressed.”
Between Wendy, this experience, and what’s ahead, “Yes!” I say with need.
Back in the fitting room, we have at least ten dresses hanging. Each one is unique in its own way. Trying them on, I can’t deny the thrill of being in designer names I’ve only ever read about. This experience continues to underscore how different Adam’s world is from mine. It’s a far cry from my stay-at-home daughter situation.
“I would fuck you in that dress,” she says after I try on another option.Nikola’s commentary is priceless.“Too sexy for tonight. Pass.”
Zipping up another, a sleek number with a lot of cutouts, I joke, “Does this one come with instructions?”
“Only to walk with confidence and break a few hearts,” she shoots back. I like her. Nikola is definitely someone I could be friends with. Taking a sip of the champagne, I stuff down how bizarre the last few hours have been.
