Chapter 11 #4
Abby followed Tiffany into a space that in no way resembled Abby’s Attic.
Where her store had been sweetness personified, Tiffany’s was all about sex—and in some cases, raunchy sex.
Abby’s senses were overwhelmed by the scents, the textures, the sheer volume of choices. “It’s incredible, Tiff. Truly.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. I love it.” Abby didn’t say what she really thought—that the store brought home all the many ways she felt inadequate as a woman. She’d have no idea where to begin among the many choices Tiffany had provided for her customers. She was lost in a sea of femininity.
“Why do you look so sad?”
Startled by Tiffany’s astute assessment, Abby forced herself to make eye contact with the other woman. “I feel out of my league in here.”
“How so?”
Abby ran her fingers over a lacy garter belt and nodded. “I’ve never been one for sexing things up.”
“Well, isn’t that too bad? A body like yours ought to be shown off.”
Abby uttered a most unladylike snort of laughter. “Sure.”
“You don’t think so?” Tiffany put down her coffee and came over to open one of the oversized dressing rooms. She gestured for Abby to step inside. “Face the mirror.”
Abby did as directed and tried to look anywhere but at herself, anywhere but at the woman who so desperately wanted to be different but didn’t know where to begin.
“Is it okay if I get personal?”
“Ah, sure. I guess so.”
Tiffany unbuttoned Abby’s blouse and pushed it off her shoulders, revealing the utilitarian white bra that Abby had worn since she was old enough to wear bras. “Hmm,” Tiffany said. “Nice tattoo. Just got it?”
“Today.”
“Good for you. I’m guessing a D cup?”
Abby’s face flushed with color. She’d always been sensitive about breasts that had gotten too big too fast when she was a teenager. “Yes.”
“Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
Over the next thirty minutes, Tiffany Sturgil changed Abby Callahan’s entire perspective about lingerie and how important it could be to feeling sexy.
Once she got a load of what her too-big breasts looked like in a lacy midnight-blue bra, it hadn’t taken much encouragement for Tiffany to talk her into enough underwear for two weeks’ worth of sexy, not to mention several new dresses designed to show off her assets.
“You’re going to need a thong for that dress,” Tiffany said, taking a close look at Abby’s posterior in a slinky black number that hugged her curves.
All thoughts of shyness had disappeared the first time she bared her breasts to try on the bra that Tiffany insisted would do wonders for her cleavage.
She’d been right about that and about every other choice she’d made for Abby.
“I’ve never worn a thong before. I can’t get past the feeling of having a nonstop wedgie.”
Tiffany laughed. “I hear that all the time from first-timers, but trust me, once you go thong, you never go back.” She held up a scrap of midnight-blue lace, dangling it in front of Abby like a metaphor for the life she wanted so badly but hadn’t known how to find.
Abby took hold of it, stepped into the dressing room and closed the door, not wanting Tiffany to see the basic cotton panties that matched her equally boring bra.
She slid the thong into position, grimacing at the sensation of having fabric wedged where it didn’t belong.
“How long does it take before you don’t notice that you’ve got something jammed up there? ”
“A couple of days max.”
“If you say so.”
“Check out what it does for the dress,” Tiffany said.
Abby turned, putting her back end to the mirror and looking over her shoulder. She had to admit the dress flowed better with the thong than it had without it. “Okay. I’m sold.”
“Well, you kinda had to take the thong either way after you tried it on.”
The dry comment made Abby laugh. She opened the door to share the laugh with Tiffany. “You’re too much.”
“I hear that almost every day.”
“You’re also crazy good at this.” Abby hugged Tiffany. “Ring it up. I’ll take it all. Thank you so much. This was exactly what I needed.”
“My pleasure. You’ve done wonders for my coffers today.”
“And you’ve done wonders for my self-confidence.”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Abby. Any guy would be lucky to spend time with you. Don’t let a few setbacks keep you from taking new chances. I’m living proof that even the most unhappy person can find true love and happiness.”
“Are we talking about Blaine?”
Tiffany smiled and nodded.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that! The last time you and I were together right in this store, he came in, and the two of you nearly burned the place down just by looking at each other.”
The soft look of love on Tiffany’s face told the full story. “He’s amazing and everything I never thought I’d have.”
“I’m so happy for you. You deserve it.”
“So do you. It’s going to happen for you, too. I know it will.”
Abby wanted so badly to believe Tiffany, but she’d learned to be pragmatic about these things.
Some people didn’t meet the person they were meant to spend forever with and were just fine on their own.
If that happened to her, she’d find a way to make a worthwhile life for herself.
But the time she’d spent with Tiffany had filled her with a new sense of optimism.
Maybe, just maybe there might still be hope for her and romance after all.
Tiffany offered to have her assistant, Patty, run Abby’s purchases back to the Beachcomber for her.
“That’d be great. I’ve got another stop to make while I’m out.”
“Go on ahead, and come back soon, okay?”
“I will. Thanks again, Tiffany.”
“My pleasure.”
Trying to ignore the unnatural feel of the thong between her cheeks, Abby hustled through town, arriving at the tattoo studio ten minutes later.
“Back again so soon?” Duke asked when she walked in. He was sitting in one of the chairs, reading the latest issue of the Gansett Gazette. “Everything all right with your ink?”
“I want another one.”
Duke glanced at Jeff and then at Abby. “You sure about that?”
Abby’s heart pounded as she nodded. She walked over to the book she’d looked through earlier when she’d been seeking something safe.
At the time, another design had called to her, but she’d dismissed it as too much.
“This one,” she said when she found it. “On my ankle.” The dark purple morning glory came with a winding vine that would curl twice around the back of her leg.
Duke came over to look at what she’d chosen. “That’ll take a couple of hours.”
“I’ve got the time if you do,” she said, feeling defiant and elated.
“Right this way, madam.”
Abby all but skipped to the chair, delighted with herself and her decision to do something unexpected. “Do you mind if I make a few calls while you’re working?”
“As long as you hold still, have at it.”
She pulled a notebook from her purse and prepared to spend the time reconnecting with the former suppliers she’d worked with at Abby’s Attic. Laura had given her carte blanche to set up the gift shop at the Sand & Surf any way she saw fit, and it was time to get to work.