Page 273 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
The satin bustier is a perfect fit, although I could use a little more room in the chest department since my cleavage is dangerously close to spilling over, but the rest of the glimmering material hugs my curves in all the right places.
“Holy shit,” Harlow mumbles, pacing closer. “If that doesn’t force Isaac out of his no-sex ban, nothing will. Izzy, you look…hot!”
“Do you think it will be okay underneath a dress for the cocktail party?”
“Yes, it’s strapless and hugging, so it will go under anything.” She screws her nose up. “Unless you’re planning on wearing a midriff gown?”
Even if I were considering a midriff, I wouldn’t be now, not after the disgusted look that morphed on her face when she said it.
“How much is it?” I swivel around so Harlow can check the price tag dangling halfway down my back.
“Oh, look, it’s free.”
When she snaps the price tag off and shoves it into her clutch bag, my breath hitches. “You can’t steal it.”
She slaps my arm. “I didn’t mean I was going to steal it. I meant you weren’t paying for it.”
I eye her curiously, requesting for her to spill the beans. She’s my best friend, but her bakery has a stranglehold on her finances, so there's no way she could afford, nor would I allow her to purchase this for me.
Smiling, she digs her hands into her clutch to produce a platinum credit card with Holt Enterprises emblazoned on the front. “Isaac said you refused to take it, so I accepted it on your behalf.”
I attempt to snatch the card out of her grasp, but she's too quick. “Do you want to have crazy hulk sex with Isaac?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, hiding the smile unwillingly tugging my lips higher. “Hulk sex?”
She waggles her brows and nods. “Because the only way you're going to get his monster busting out of his pants like the Hulk is withthatoutfit.” Her eyes zoom in on the satin bustier. “And a pair of sexy stilettos.”
I turn to face the mirror again. I really like this outfit, and I think Isaac will love it too. I still recall his excitement when I wore the strapless bra that was a similar gray to his eyes, but the darkness of this material matches his eyes to perfection.
“All right. I’m going to buy it, but if I don’t get crazy hulk sex, I’m returning it Christmas morning.”
We finalize our purchases at the lingerie store before making our way to the boutique dress shop where we have a six o’clock appointment. On Point Boutique is so exclusive, it only allows customers with an appointment to shop here. Due to its famous clientele, they have extended shopping hours. Cormack had to pull a lot of strings to get us an appointment so we could find dresses for his fancy party. Generally, they're booked out six months in advance.
My hand runs along the racks of beautiful, luxurious clothing as our personal shopper guides us to the vast dressing room at the back of the store. This boutique not only sells formal dresses, but it also has jeans, cashmere sweaters, trousers, skirts, and a range of accessories. From the price tags my eyes watered over while walking past, my budget couldn’t even stretch for half a scarf in this establishment.
“Mr. McGregor informed us that you'll be attending a cocktail party on Christmas Eve. Due to the short notice, we won’t have time to make alterations to the dress you choose, so choose wisely,” our personal shopper, Melinda, advises. “I'll have my assistant bring in the first selection of dresses we have chosen from the measurements and color swatches you emailed us earlier today. If you don’t find anything to your taste from that selection, we’ll move onto the floor until we discover the perfect dress.”
Melinda is smirking a pleasant smile, but her nose remains high in the air, and her tone is snobby and condescending.
After filling two champagne flutes with chilled champagne, she attempts to leave with the bottle in her hand. “Leave the bottle.”
Melinda’s lips thin at Harlow’s request, but she leaves the bottle as instructed before exiting the oversized dressing room with a huff.
“Did you see the price tags on the dresses on the way in?” Harlow queries, her eyes bulging. “We need to drink at least ten bottles of champagne to recoup some of Cormack’s expenses.”
A small giggle escapes my lips from her boldness.
By the time Peta, Cormack’s personal assistant, joins Harlow and me, we’ve consumed one bottle of the expensive champagne and are well onto the second bottle. I’ve spent the last hour giggling like a school girl while Harlow tried on the range of dresses the personal shoppers selected for her. The variety is enormous, ranging from puffy 80’s bridesmaid-looking dresses to ones that look like she was going to stand on the corner to bring in some extra cash for Christmas, but no matter how many dresses she tried on, none of them matched her flamboyant demeanor.
Harlow picks up one of the hideous accessories that came with a dress and throws it at my head. “Stop giggling,” she requests with a huff. “Not all of us strike gold with the very first dress we try on.”
I scamper off the button-studded day chaise I’m sprawled on and pace toward Harlow, my footing unsteady in my inebriated state. “You have a personal shopper whose idea of a fun day would consist of having her poodle’s hair permed.” Harlow and Peta snicker softly. “So how can you trust her with finding the perfect dress that will have Cormack’s Hulk breaking out of his pants?”
“That’s my cue to leave,” Peta says under her breath while pretending to gag.
“You,” I say, slightly slurring when Melinda walks back into the dressing room with a hideous peach-colored silk dress draped over her arms. “Bring us every emerald green dress you have. Pronto!” I clap my hands, more brazen in my tipsy state. When she skedaddles away, I shift my focus back to Harlow. “With your beautiful auburn hair and green eyes, emerald green will have Cormack in a tizzy and hisHulkemerging.”
Confident I have her on the right track, I shift my gaze to Peta. “Oh, no. I’m only here to pay the final bill.”
