“Look,” I said, touching the hem. “It’s…expensive. And you’d think with cost you’d get quality. Not always the case.”
“You don’t always get what you pay for,” he said.
“Exactly. When you’re a vintage-store expert like me, you develop an eye for quality. Sometimes you can find the best pieces for barely anything. And one of the things you look for is stitching. Check this out.”
I moved my finger over the stitching at the hem.
“Not high quality. You wear this dress a couple of times, and you’ll be taking it to the tailors to get it resewn in no time.”
He smiled slightly. I could tell he was impressed.
“Then I’ll let you be the judge. I know a good suit when I see one, but even I can admit when I’m out of my depth.”
I didn’t need any more encouragement. After a long walk around the store, I went to the clerk with a few dresses to try out. She helped me get a room, and Jason moved to the dressing room chair to watch.
Over the next hour or so I tried them on, loving the way the fabric felt against my body, amazed that I was able to wear the gowns that I saw.
And Jason didn’t show the slightest hint of boredom as I tried them on. If anything, he enjoyed the show, loved watching me exit the dressing room and take a lazy twirl or two in front of him.
Finally, I found one that was perfect. A flowing deep blue gown with a gossamer white top. The only issue was the bustline. It…showed off a little more than I’d been expecting, with a plunging V that left little to the imagination. It was most definitely more revealing than any other gown I’d worn before—not that I had much experience with that type of clothing.
When I was ready, I stepped out of the dressing room. Jason’s ice-blue eyes went wide as he took in the sight.
“I think…I think that’s the one,” he said as he rose from his seat.
“You don’t think it’s too much?”
He placed his hands on my bare shoulders. “It’s just enough. You look incredible.”
His smile was warm, his gaze…almost hungry. What was he thinking as he beheld me in that gown? Did he have more on his mind than just how well it fit?
I banished the thought. This was a professional evening, a boss and his employee out for a totally platonic date. Nothing more to it than that.
“All right,” I said, standing in front of the five-panel mirror. “I think we have a winner.”
“And I think I’m going to have the most beautiful woman in this city on my arm tonight.”
I gulped.
I had no idea what to expect from the evening ahead. But I had a hell of a feeling it was going to be one to remember.