Chapter 16
16
KATRINA
“N o. No. No.” Tesla mutters to herself, her eyes laser-focused on the clothing rack in front of her.
I’m not sure exactly what she’s looking for, but I get the feeling she doesn’t, either. I suspect it’s more of an I’ll know it when I see it situation, so I don’t ask. Instead, I maintain a safe distance behind her, my eyes scanning the clothes and displays as we go.
This is the third thrift shop we’ve hit over the last hour. I quickly understood why Tesla said Las Vegas had some of the best thrift shops in the world. So many stage shows get put on here, and all those wonderful, discarded costumes have to end up some place.
And that place is Tesla’s shopping basket, it seems.
“Ah-ha!” Tesla says, breaking the long rhythm of nos. She whips an item off the hanger and tosses it into her basket before I can get a good look at it, but it was white and lacy.
“God, I love Vegas!” she says, her blue hair hitting her cheeks as she whips back to look at me. “Don’t you?”
“It’s home,” I say with a nod. A dress catches my eye and I reach for it, a stunning work of emerald green velvet that seems right up my alley, but I put it back. “Don’t they have shops like this back in New York?”
“They do, but not nearly as daring. You can find some decent off-Broadway cast offs, though, if you dig deep enough. Did you want that?”
I halt my absent stride when I realize she’s paused. “Oh,” I say, noting her eyes on the emerald dress. “No. It’s not my size.”
“I can take it in for you,” she offers. “Fit like a glove when I’m done.”
“Oh, no.” I wave a hand. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Okay.” She snatches the dress off its hanger and stashes it away in her basket, all the while never breaking eye contact with me, her smile as wicked as Logan’s.
I chuckle. “Okay, then.”
“Sorry not sorry,” she hums as we continue forward, her eagle-like eyes back to scanning each item ahead. “Clothing is my love language.” She bobs her chin at my basket. “Find anything else you like?”
“Not yet,” I say, my basket empty. “But I picked up a few things at the last shop we were at, so I’m good.”
Tesla eyes me a moment before moving on. “You don’t thrift much, do you?” she asks.
“Not really, no,” I answer. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it! I’m just not much of a shopper, I guess.”
“Childhood trauma?” she asks without a hint of judgment, only mutual understanding.
“You know, I haven’t really thought about it, but probably.”
She chuckles. “I hear that. To my mother, the only thing worse than buying used clothes was making your own like some little match girl.” She peeks at me and sighs, but there’s no weight to it. No hesitation in over-sharing. “Money really messes with people, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does.”
“Honestly, I assumed you had stylists on call telling you what to wear every day. Or your own flock of little cartoon birdies helping you do your makeup in the morning.”
“Oh, no,” I say, laughing at the visual image. “No, I dress myself. Unless there’s a specific photo shoot or a video or something. Then I’m just along for the ride until I can crawl back home and chill.”
“Glad to have been wrong, then.” She pulls out another item and holds it up to me. This time, her eyes sparkle before she drops it into her basket. “Yo, Gold!” she shouts toward the changing room in the corner behind us. “How’s it looking in there?”
A simple groan is Goldie’s only response.
“It can’t be that bad. Let’s see it.” Tesla lowers her voice at me. “She always grunts like that, but it’s always beautiful. Nothing looks bad on her, you’ll see.”
The curtain opens. Goldie steps out and I see that Tesla was absolutely right. She’s clad in a simple black jumpsuit. Loose about the waist but tight around her chest, showing off the curve of her martini glass shape.
Tesla sighs at me. “See?”
I nod. “It looks great!”
“Does it?” Goldie asks, doubtful. “You’re not lying, blue?”
“It looks so good, I want to peel it off your body and choke you with it,” Tesla says.
I blush, feeling the sudden urge to look away as if I just witnessed something too naughty for my eyes and ears.
Goldie beams. “Well, I guess I’ll get it, then.”
“Just pop it in my basket!” Tesla shouts over her shoulder, already back to skimming the long rack ahead of us. “So, Katrina?”
“Yeah?”
“What are your intentions with Logan?”
I blink. “My what?”
She spins to face me, all amusement gone from her eyes as she demands an answer.
“I don’t have any intentions,” I say.
“You and yours aren’t planning some form of retribution or sabotage, then?” she asks blankly.
“No!” I say. “Of course not.”
“No hard feelings? About our summer activities, I mean.”
“No. I mean...” I pause, reluctant to say it. “Sure, you guys did some things to us, but I know it wasn’t your choice. You just did what you thought you had to do. Because of Monroe, I mean.”
“Right.”
“I’m just happy no one got really hurt.”
“Me, too.”
“And yeah, the others are still salty about it.”
“But not you?”
“No, I’m...” I shrug. “You seem like good people to me.”
To that, Tesla smiles. “You seem like good people to me, too.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ve killed before, you know.”
I lean back. “Really?”
Tesla cracks up. “No!” She playfully slaps my arm. “Of course not! I’m just messing with you.”
I chuckle warily.
She yanks a hanger off the rack and thrusts it at me. “You should totally get this.”
I shift back, surprised by the sudden intrusion. As I hold it up, my jaw sags in awe. It’s a lovely blue sundress printed with charming yellow roses. Just my style. And size.
“Oh, wow!” I say. “This is actually really nice.”
“Logan will absolutely lose it.”
I look back at Tesla just in time to see the coy smile touch her lips. “What?”
“Let me see,” Goldie says behind me, startling me to turn toward her. She takes one look at the dress and nods, chuckling as she drops the black jumpsuit into Tesla’s basket. “Oh, yeah. Boss’ll go monosyllabic.”
“He will?” I ask, my cheeks pinking.
“Just his type,” Tesla agrees, though I’m not sure if she means me or the dress.
I don’t bother to ask.
I drop the dress into my basket.