Page 6 of Wicked Player
“So tell me all about it.”
My heart is still pounding as I share all the details. “Well, it's this Saturday at six o’clock. The dress code is classy cocktail, or dressy cocktail… something like that.”
“Yes, yes… I can't wait to help you pick out an outfit.”
My smile fades. “But I don't have anything,” I tell her. “And I can't afford to buy something new.” True… I am getting a thousand dollars for the evening, but I need that money for the essentials, like food, school shoes for Christian and dental care. I don’t have the luxury of spending it on clothing.
“Yes, of course,” she says, “but I have lots. You can borrow something from me.”
Yes, Cassie is a bit of a fashionista, and she has a closet full of beautiful things. She is about my size, just a bit slimmer, but I'm sure we could find something. And best of all, we wear the same shoe size… size seven. So it's a go.
“Okay, I'll come to your place. Is tonight good?”
“Yes, for sure,” she tells me, excited. “I can’t wait.”
* * *
Nicole is looking after Christian tonight, and I plan to be at Cassie’s at five. Nicole lives a few cottages down the road. She’s eighteen, and she's absolutely wonderful. She is a lifesaver, and the most important thing about her is that Christian adores her.
I go over the basics, and leave her my number. “Don’t hesitate to call if there are any problems… I won’t be very far.”
She smiles. “No problem, Mrs. Scott.”
I smile. I feel so old when she calls me that.
I kiss Christian on the forehead, and tell him to be good. And then I’m on my way.
* * *
Cassie is practically bouncing off of the walls when I get to her place. She’s as excited as a kid on Christmas morning, or Easter morning, or any of the main holidays that involve candy and gifts.
“Let's get you in my closet,” she says as soon as I pull my boots off. “Let’s see what we can do with you.”
We flip eagerly through a bunch of her dresses, hanger after hanger. She also has three racks of shoes at the top of her closet. There’s probably about fifty pairs up there. She picks out the classy shiny black ones. The heel is about three inches or so, and they’re very glossy.
“I love those,” I say.
“I have a few more options, but these are my favorite,” she tells me. “They’re super comfy too.” She searches for a few other pairs but stops abruptly. “Wait… we must find you a dress first, and then we’ll pick the shoes.”
I'm not very good at all this fashion stuff, and I’m very thankful to have Cassie around to help me out. We sift through the dresses, and she pulls out a pink number which is a bit too loud for me. I shake my head. It’s a hard no. She then pulls out a polka dot dress.
“Maybe… that could work,” I offer, but I’m still not completely sold.
Then she pulls out a slinky silver number, and that is also a hard no.
After perusing her whole collection of dresses, I finally settle on the polka dot dress and give it a go. I slip it over my shoulders, hoping it will fit. She helps me get it on, and does the zip up for me. It’s a tiny bit snug, but it fits.
We both study my reflection in the mirror on the wall, and I have another low self-esteem moment. I’m really not cut out for this kind of thing. I’m convinced that I’ll look like a clown, standing next to all the other women. I’m picturing beauty queens of course. I’m not beautiful. I’m average at best. Maybe if Cassie helps out, I can be bumped up to a 6.5.
“You look fantastic,” she says.
Perhaps it’s her words, seemingly so genuine, but I see it too. “I really do.”
“Yes, you do.”
And with that, I do a little twirl. Maybe… not so bad at all.
“Those shoes you like will go great with that dress,” Cassie tells me, so I try them on, and fortunately they fit.
