The Fixed Trilogy: Forever With You(48)

“Nope.” She’d skirted past the Sophia incident, so I took that as a sign she didn’t really want to talk about it.

“Thank goodness for that.” She turned to put the dress back in its place and began shuffling through the outfits we’d already been through. “I can’t believe she has time to dedicate to that. I mean, she doesn’t need the money, but she has a job. Does she just ignore her clients?”

I’d actually lost jobs in the past due to my own obsessions. But for once, I didn’t want to compare. I decided to go for a lighter approach. “I know, right? Maybe she pays an assistant to do all her work.”

Mira laughed. “Or she canceled all her projects this month.”

“And put up a sign in her office that says: Closed for Stalking.” We were both laughing now. The release felt good. It broke the ever-present tension sort of in the same way sex did. If I couldn’t spend all my days in bed, I definitely should spend more of it laughing.

“Well, at least we can find the humor.” Mira moved behind me, apparently giving up on the clothes rack. “But there’s no humor in this horrid dress. Let’s get you out of this lousy thing.” She loosened the ties that threaded across my back, then started removing the pins she’d put in to tighten the dress at my waist.

There was a tap at the dressing room door. Stacy entered without waiting for an invitation. “Here’s some for that one.” She handed a pair of cherry red heels toward her boss.

I hadn’t seen much of Stacy that afternoon. She’d stayed relatively busy with another customer, but as soon as she was finished, she had popped her head in. Mira had sent her on errand after errand, asking for a different bra, another box of pins, and so on.

But even just seeing her sporadically, it was enough to send my mind back to the video she’d offered to show me. I’d told Hudson I didn’t need to see it—and I didn’t—but that didn’t stop me from being slightly curious. Okay, more than slightly.

Mira waved the shoes away. “We’re scrapping this one. It’s not quite right.” Her eyes lit up. “You know what? We should try the Furstenberg piece. The new one. What do you think, Stacy?”

Stacy tilted her head and examined me, perhaps trying to picture me in the dress they were talking about. “It would look great with her skin tone. And the fit is meant to accentuate the bust line, which works with her body type. Is it still in the backroom?”

“Yes.”

Stacy turned to leave.

“No, wait.” Mira stopped her. “I pulled it for Misty to try on and then she chose something different.” Her brow pinched. “Crap. I don’t know where it is now.”

“I can look around,” Stacy offered.

“Let me go. I don’t expect you to figure out where my hormone-influenced brain left it. Will you help her out of this one?” Mira handed the pin box to Stacy.

Maybe it was my imagination, but Stacy’s expression didn’t seem too pleased. “Certainly.” And her voice was tight.

Mira didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks. Be back shortly!” Under her breath, she added, “Hopefully.”

Stacy kept her head down while she moved behind me, as though she were deliberately avoiding looking me in the eye. Waves of hostility rolled off her body. She’d been cold in the past, but this was different. More angry. Was she mad that I’d refused to see her video? How petty was that?

I debated whether I wanted to break the tension or not. Finally, I decided to try. “Are you excited for the renovation celebration?”

“Sure.” Again, her response was curt.

And not a lot to work off of. “I imagine it will bring new business. Will you be hiring more help?”

“Probably.”

Yeah, definitely some rage going on. I felt the waistband loosening as she removed the last pins.

“Lift.”

I raised my arms for Stacy to pull the dress over my head. She was rough as she did, and when my hair got caught, she muttered an unconvincing apology. Then she turned to hang up the outfit on the rack.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling odd in my panties and strapless bra in front of a woman I barely knew. A woman who apparently was not very happy with me.

I considered letting it go.

But letting things go had never been one of my strong points.

Stacy remained turned away as she worked, so I had to address her back. “Are you mad at me?” She didn’t say anything so I clarified. “Mad that I didn’t want to see your video?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she huffed. Then, after a beat, “That’s not why I’m mad.”

“But you are mad?” I knew it! My paranoia wasn’t always off-base. “Why?”

“Seriously?” She flew back around to face me. “I offered that video as a gesture of kindness. One woman to another—we’re supposed to look out for each other. At least we are in my book.”

I was completely lost. “I have no idea—”

She cut me off. “I told you Hudson didn’t know that I had it. And then you went ahead and told him about it anyway. That was just…just low.”

My head swam. “Wait, wait. I’m confused.”

“What exactly is confusing about it? I went out of my way to help you and you pretty much betrayed my confidence.” She leaned against the dressing room wall, throwing her gaze up. “I don’t know what I expected. He’s Hudson Pierce, after all. He gets everybody’s panties in a wad with just a glance.” Her head shot back toward me. “Hey, he didn’t trick you into telling him about it, did he?”