“But I only have a little left to do on your curtains and then they’re done.” Sara scowled.
Gretchen pushed her through the doors of Macy’s Department Store. Perfume floated in the air around them as Gretchen steered her toward the women’s clothing section.
“Girl, this is a much more pressing matter. This is your first date since I’ve known you, and knowing you, it’s your first date—ever.”
Sara didn’t disagree, even though it was no longer true. “So.” Sara frowned. “Just because I have a date tonight, I have to buy new clothes?”
“No, you have to buy new clothes because you need something appropriate to wear. Don’t get me wrong, your clothes are cute, but we’re going to the concert hall. It’s an occasion to dress up. Besides, you need something special to wow Shane Adams.”
“It’s Xanthus,” Sara said.
“Xanthus? Sounds Greek. So what’s his last name again?”
“Dimitriou.”
“Ooo... he is Greek. I still can’t believe you’re dating your landlord. Do you think he’ll lower your rent now that you’re lip-locking?”
“We are not dating. This is one date. And he is not lowering my rent.” She had to put her foot down somewhere.
“No denial of the lip-locking? You kissed him, didn’t you?” Gretchen’s eyes were wide as she smiled.
“He kissed me actually.” Sara felt her face heat. That was a testament to how little experience she had—that she would blush just because someone had kissed her. Gretchen had told many more colorful stories about her love life and she had never blushed.
“Oh, wow. We are so getting you a killer dress for tonight. One that shows some skin.” Gretchen plowed on through to the women’s department.
“No. No showing skin.” Sara shook her head.
“How are you going to wow him without showing him some skin?” Gretchen stopped next to a display rack, pulled a yellow, strapless sundress up to her body, and gazed in a nearby mirror.
“Why do I need to wow him?”
“Girl, you have a lot to learn about men.” Gretchen held the dress up to Sara. “I don’t know. I think this yellow washes you out. Let’s see what you look like in blue.” She pulled a shiny, navy blue dress off the rack.
“I don’t like my blues that dark,” Sara said. “Besides, I don’t think that style is me.”
“You’re so not going in a muumuu.”
“I don’t wear muumuus.”
“Not technically, but you do tend to cover yourself. It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little more skin.”
“How about I wear a bikini top?”
“No need for sarcasm.” Gretchen held up a white, sequined dress with spaghetti straps and a deep V-neck, practically down to the waist. “Oh, look at this dress. If you wear this, you’ll have to bring along a crash cart. This’ll stop Shane Adams’s heart.”
“I don’t think so. How about we find something with a little more fabric?” Sara suggested and wheeled toward a dress rack.
“Wow, look at this. I love this color.” Sara pulled a shimmery, aqua blue, wraparound dress off a hanger. “It’s sleeveless. Does that show enough skin?” Sara held it up for Gretchen’s expert inspection.
