Page 23 of Romancing the Rumrunner
“I’ll slow down a bit,” Tony assured her.
Jessie let out another breath and her heart finally slowed to a normal beat. “Thank you.”
In no time at all, they were parked in front of a sweet little dress shop that Jessie had always admired but had never bothered to enter. Tony hopped out to open the door for her. He escorted her through the big double doors and into the boutique.
What followed next was a morning that Jessie would never have dreamed of, even in her wildest fantasies. Tony settled himself on a couch in front of three huge dressing mirrors and waited like a king for Jessie to parade each selection before him. She was like some overgrown peacock strutting about in plumage every shade of the rainbow.
But oh, what wonderful feathers. She tried everything from short little numbers covered in tassels and rhinestones to slinky confections that fell to the floor like liquid silk pouring down her body. And it wasn’t just the clothes. Each dress had to have matching shoes, handbags, rhinestones, feathers, and headbands for her hair, and glittering brooches, armbands, and rings. Jessie was swimming in a sea of silk and glitter and despite herself, she loved every minute of it.
Tony picked out several dresses, along with their matching accessories, of course. And they were all beautiful. But it was the last gown that Jessie absolutely fell in love with. The cream colored silk hugged her body like a second skin, outlining every curve she had. The wide straps on the shoulders dipped into a low draped neckline that showed more than a hint of ample cleavage, and the back was simply scandalous. It hung low enough that she wouldn’t be able to wear any underthings with it. She’d never worn anything like it before and the thought of wearing it on stage in front of everyone made her mouth dry up like she was sucking cotton.
But when she stepped out from behind the changing curtain and stood in front of Tony, his eyes widened. His mouth opened slightly, his gaze traveling from her head to her toes and back up again. Her smile spread slowly until she knew she was all but beaming at him. There was something incredibly empowering about striking a man dumb. She did a little turn so he could get the full effect.
His teeth scraped over his bottom lip and Jessie froze, the sight of it sending a bolt of heat straight to her core. She licked her lips, her mouth gone suddenly dry.
Tony cleared his throat, breaking the spell, and Jessie looked away, trying to compose herself.
“That one as well,” he instructed the woman helping them.
“Jessica Harlan? Is that you?”
Jessie groaned and turned to the old woman who approached them with a smile. “Mrs. Finch, how lovely to see you.”
She gave Mrs. Finch a hug and then braced herself. Mrs. Finch had been her neighbor for almost as long as she could remember, and had been acquainted with her father for even longer than that. She was very straitlaced and uptight, even carried her Bible in her purse, though Jessie could never figure out why, because the woman had it memorized and made sure everyone around her knew it.
Mrs. Finch looked Jessie up and down, her face puckering more by the second. “Well, I know I’m no expert on what constitutes fashion these days,” she said, drawing her brown wool coat about her like she was donning armor for battle. “But I can say with certainty that your poor mother is turning in her grave right now at the thought of her little girl wearing such a…a frock as that.”
Jessie didn’t see how Mrs. Finch could say that with any degree of certainty since the woman had never met Jessie’s mother. Jessie herself barely remembered her. Still, she resisted the urge to cover herself as Mrs. Finch continued to look at her as though she were the most offensive piece of trash ever to cross her path. “I don’t think it’s that bad, Mrs. Finch. This style is all the rage now.”
“More’s the pity, if you ask me.”
Jessie hadn’t, but she refrained from mentioning that. Not that it mattered. Mrs. Finch wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. She’d caught sight of Tony lounging on the sofa, watching them with an amused gleam in his eye. Jessie tried to communicate a warning, pleading with her eyes for him to play dumb, pretend he didn’t know her. Anything to keep the woman from knowing who he was and why he was sitting there watching Jessie parade around in such obviously immoral clothing.
Mrs. Finch’s beady little eyes darted from Tony to Jessie and back again, her face growing more puckered and disapproving with every second. Then the shopgirl came up to Tony with a stack of boxes and Jessie closed her eyes, wishing a giant hole would open up right there and swallow her whole.
“Here you are, Mr. Solomon. We can deliver the rest of your purchases if you’d prefer not to take them with you now. And this as well,” she said, gesturing to the offending material on Jessie’s body and looking back and forth between Jessie and Tony.
Mrs. Finch fairly sputtered with indignation. She rounded on Jessie, her hands on her hips, her pearls nearly popping off the vein bulging in her neck. “Jessica Marie Harlan, all I can do is thank my lucky stars that your poor father isn’t alive to see what you’ve become.” She seized her hand and pulled her close. “I blame myself. I should have made sure you were looked after. It’s not right, you there at that shop all by yourself, without a proper chaperone. I told myself time and time again, ‘Thelma, you need to go over and make sure that girl is taken care of, and finds someone to do her right.’ But did I listen? No, I did not. And look what’s come of it.” She shot Tony a look of pure venom.
Jessie was afraid to glance at him and when she did she wished she hadn’t. He looked like he was having a devil of a time keeping from rolling on the floor with laughter. Jessie added her own glare to Mrs. Finch’s. It wasnotfunny!
Mrs. Finch apparently agreed. “I don’t see what you find so amusing, young man. You should be ashamed of yourself, taking this poor innocent young girl and corrupting her for your own vile purposes. Why I never—”
Tony stood and held up a hand. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood.”
“Have I?” the woman said, as she crossed her arms over her rather ample chest. “I don’t see a ring on her finger and even if there was one, no decent man would want his wife traipsing about in that…that…”
“Of course, you are right. But you see, I’m looking for a few presents for my sister. She’s coming into town soon and I wanted to surprise her. Only I have no idea what size she wears or what she might like. I met this delightful young lady only a few moments ago and quite literally begged her to aid me. She looks to be the same size as my sister and she agreed, reluctantly, I promise you, to try on a few things. Just to help me out.”
Mrs. Finch kept him pinned with a glare, waiting to see if he’d crack under the pressure. Tony smiled at her so angelically that Jessie had to turn her head to keep from laughing. Mrs. Finch finally turned back to Jessie.
“Is that true?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d never wear such a thing myself, of course. And would certainly never let a gentleman buy me something so intimate as clothing.”
Mrs. Finch nodded her head. “Quite right. Well, that does give me some relief, I must say. You always were such a good girl,” she said, patting Jessie’s cheek. “Now, go take that garment off.Iwill help the young man find something suitable for his sister.”
Jessie watched dumbstruck as Tony offered Mrs. Finch his arm and began escorting her from rack to rack of clothing, thanking her so profusely that Jessie was sure Mrs. Finch would see right through him.
