“We have someone in house that does alterations,” the woman working calls over.
“Thanks.” I shove a hand through my hair. “I could try it on.”
“You do that.”
When I head toward the single changeroom stall in the back, I’m regretting the move. So much for Leni telling me about Harrison.
But as I strip out of my street clothes and start to tug the dress over my head, her voice drifts into the stall.
“There was this amazing thrift store back in college. I still have clothes from it today.” She laughs. “Not sure how it stayed in business when everyone in that town was flush. Me, on the other hand? I was there on a mashup of scholarships and student loans.”
My hands still after I tug the fabric down around my hips, facing away from the mirror. “That’s when you met Harrison.”
“Yep. He was the Richie Rich type. Add in that accent… whew. You can bet all the Park Avenue princesses wanted a piece of him.”
I grin as I reach for the zipper.
“He indulged them. But no one caught his attention long enough to stick. He was smart, serious about his studies as a matter of pride even though he didn’t have to be. That’s how we got to be friends. I had this crappy basement apartment in town, so I practically lived at the library. He spent his share of time there too—I think because people didn’t bother him.”
I snort, enjoying the idea of a twenty-year-old Harrison King having to hide out to avoid unwanted attention.
“We were teamed up for a project for business school. Once he realized I was legit and I got over the idea that he was just like the others, we got to be friends. After graduation, I started working in PR in New York. It was my dream job, and I was going to pay off the massive student loans. But the man in charge of the agency—the same one who hired me six months before on the strength of my portfolio—fired me and took my ideas. I had no money and no options.”
My chest tightens at the thought. “You called Harrison.”
“No, he called me. He’d been keeping tabs and somehow heard what happened. He offered me a job running his first club. At first, I was too proud to take it. But when he assured me it wasn’t just running a club, that he wanted to build an empire and he needed someone he trusted to help, I said yes.”
“You’re saying Harrison doesn’t care where you come from.”
“No. I’m saying he does.”
I turn toward the mirror, and my breath sticks in my throat.
“Well?” Leni demands. “Is it on?”
She yanks on the curtain without waiting for me to respond.
“Damn, Rae,” she whistles, inspecting me from head to toe. “I’m two for two today.”
“It’s a little loose here…” I pinch the back.
“You heard the woman. You can get it taken in. Problem solved.”
After I change out of the dress and make arrangements for purchasing and alterations, Leni says, “I assume you’re taking the boss to this wedding?”
“We haven’t talked about it.”
Miami was a big step for us, and I want to bask in the enjoyment of that before taking another crazy leap.
“Which is Raegan for ‘I haven’t given him a chance,’” she calls as we head back outside.
“Are you pissed or something?” I demand as I follow her up the sidewalk.
“I’m protective,” she tosses. “I won’t let anything bad happen on my watch.”
I pull up a few feet from where the car is parked. “You’re worried I’m going to hurt Harrison?”
Her sigh makes me feel as if I’ve missed something entirely.