In the closet, I pull open the drawer I put my underwear in Thursday night. I move through the colorful array of options, cotton thongs, cotton boy briefs, lots of cotton. My eyes find that gorgeous blue dress again. This isn’t going to cut it. I slam it shut and move over to the next drawer. I already know what’s in it and when I saw it yesterday, I vowed I’d never touch it because who needs sexy silk and lace underwear when you’re fake dating Barrett, the Ice King? My hands move over the slinky material of a silk black thong. I snatch it up quickly, then slam the drawer. It’s for the dress. Nothing more.
The underwear aren’t the only items in the closet that aren’t mine. There are a few new dresses, wide leg trousers and blouse options, flirty skirts and tops, belts, shoes and the most adorable tank and shorts silk lounge set. It’s lavender, my favorite color. It’s sexy and chic and came with a matching fuzzy long-sleeve cardigan sweater. I stared at it for a good five minutes yesterday. It looks like a cloud and while I’m tempted to put it on now, I slip on the panties instead and retie my robe.
A minute later there’s a knock on my bedroom door and I open it up to find two men standing there. One that looks like a teddy bear with a beard and thick wavy brown hair and a thinner man with jet black hair that may be wearing eyeliner.
“Chloe?” they say in unison. “I’m Hans,” teddy bear says, “and I’m Franz,” the dark-haired man says, “and we’re here to primp you up!” they add together in some kind of accent.
“Franz?” I question. “Is that French?”
“No. And I’m Will,” Franz says. “That’s just a fun little intro we like to do.”
“Oh, okay. Well, come on in.” I wave them into the bedroom.
“Where should we set up?” Will asks.
“The bathroom, maybe? It’s got plenty of room.”
He peeks his head in.
“Damn, girl. How many BJs you have to give to get a place like this?”
“Oh, um.” I struggle to answer because Barrett is my fake boyfriend but if people think he’s my real boyfriend, then I probably give him blow jobs on occasion, which would be fine because he’s my boyfriend, but he’s not and we don’t. What was the question?
“He’s kidding,” Hans says, unfolding what looks like a director’s chair and motioning for me to sit.
“I wasn’t really,” Will complains, opening the largest makeup case I’ve ever seen.
“We brought champagne.” Hans pulls it out of his bag. I wonder what else he’s got in there.
He pops the cork and I laugh, feeling at ease about the whole thing for the first time today.
“You just sit back and relax and we’ll work our magic.”
An hour later, Hans and Fr—Will are on their way out and I’ve pulled on the sapphire blue gown that matches my eyes. I love how I look, like me but with more sparkle. I’m excited to go to the event and I’m also a little tipsy from the champagne. But my bubble bursts when I descend the stairs to find Barrett waiting in the foyer, looking gorgeous in a fitted tuxedo, and he barely glances at me.
He’s a man of formalities, which I would think includes telling a woman that she looks nice, but he just stares at me, his jaw working itself over before he reaches for the door.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Mmhmm,” I say with pursed lips, because I know he hates when people mumble and don’t respond with a definitive yes or no. Which is funny, because I hear him do it all the time.
In the car he’s on his phone. I pull mine out, happy that I haven’t played today’s WordIt yet and have something to occupy the silence between us. I start with C O U N T, one of my starter words but have no luck. Then, I use S H A P E and the E is yellow so I know it’s in the word but not the right place. I find an L and a D but struggle to get the word.
“Hmm.” My brain is thinking hard out loud.
The car stops, I look out at our destination, a restaurant called Cipriani, located adjacent to the Chrysler Building. The driver door slams shut with Marcus’s exit.
“It’s ELDER,” Barrett announces and it catches me off guard.
“What is?” I ask.
“The WordIt today.”
My hands fly to my ears, but I can’t unhear it.
“Shh! You can’t tell me.”
“I just did,” he says, his voice void of feeling.
“I didn’t ask you,” I snap back, my irritation growing at his lack of consideration.