Chapter 11 New Dress
New Dress
Renée
Iknew Jonah wanted to purchase my entire outfit, but I didn’t know that he wanted to take part in today’s shopping activities. So color me surprised when he showed up on my doorstep and offered to drive us. I said no, so he hopped in my car and I drove.
I figured he’d transfer funds electronically to me, not be the one who swipes the damn card.
I also thought we’d just go to the King of Prussia Mall and find something in one of the high-end department stores, but nope. Jonah has directed me to a store in Conshohoken that I’ve never heard of.
As soon as we step out of my car and face the building, I know why. This is a dress boutique. The only time I’ve ever purchased a dress from a store this sleek and sophisticated was when I bought my wedding dress.
I’m suddenly painfully aware that I am no longer a size six. After babies, after Greg, after... everything, I’ve settled into a size twelve. And when you’re short like me, a size twelve fits a lot differently than it does an average-size woman.
I’m wracking up the timing constraints for alterations versus the wedding deadline when Jonah places one hand on my shoulders and opens the glass door with the other hand.
“Come on,” he beams, completely unaware of the stress I’m already under.
I’m not even paying for this, but I know this will not work out.
Boutiques like this might—might—go as high as a size twelve.
Even if I find a dress, will I even like it, or will I settle because it’s the only option?
What if they’re rude to me? What if we’re turned away because they don’t have my size?
What if there isn’t enough time to alter the dress?
“Welcome.” A bright smile greets us. A middle-aged white woman with a brunette ponytail, dressed head to toe in black and wearing bright red, wide-brimmed glasses. “You must be Renée and Jonah.”
He extends his hand without pause. “Yes, we are.”
I shake her hand on autopilot. “Hi.”
“My name is Paula, and I’ll be assisting you today. May I bring you something to drink? We have sparkling water, champagne, wine, soft drinks of any kind...” She trails off and waits for us to answer.
I can already tell this place charges a lot.
I used to have money. I came from money. But when our financial situation took a nose-dive and Greg moved us here, my priorities had to change. I adapted.
If I’m going to be out of here in ten minutes because they have nothing that will work for me, then you better believe I’m taking some bubbly as a consolation prize.
“Champagne, please,” I say cooly, because I will not show fear.
“Make it two,” Jonah nods.
Paula narrows her eyes at Jonah. “Would you mind showing me your ID?”
I fight back a snort of laughter, but he seems unfazed as he whips it out of his wallet and shows her that he is just barely old enough, in fact, to legally drink.
I snatch the ID from him before he tucks it away, and I look for myself. God help me, he’s twenty-five years old.
“I’m a Taurus,” he says with a wink.
Another staff member comes along with two flutes of champagne (how did they get here so fast?).
When the brim of the glass touches my bottom lip, I survey the space.
There are large canvases displayed with abstract, but distinctly round, womanly figures.
And when I take in the mannequins, they’re all. .. large. Larger than me, even.
“Now tell me about the event,” Paula says, flicking her fingers like she’s digging for gossip with a friend. “What are we going for?”
Too struck by what I see to actually register what she says, I blink in shock. “Excuse me, Paula, was it?”
She offers a courteous smile and nods.
I cuff a hand around Jonah’s arm and lead him. “Can we have a moment?”
“Oh, sure. I’ll just be right over there by the register when you’re ready.”
When she’s far enough out of earshot, I turn on him. “Why are we here?”
A befuddled look paints his face. “Because... I’m buying you a dress.”
“No, I get that. Why here, specifically?” I gesture around us.
He shrugs, the picture of cluelessness. “My sister Angie recommended it.”
I can’t stop my face from scrunching up. “You told her about me?”
“Well, yeah. She would have found out eventually. She has a way of knowing everyone’s business.”
“And you told her you were buying me a dress?”
He nods. “And then she asked what size you were, and I didn’t know, so I just said you were thick.” His eyes widen with delight when he says that last word. “My sister is a big girl, too. She’s a lot taller than you, though. She recommended this place; I don’t know.”
His expression sours. “Did I do something wrong? I’m so sorry. Whatever it is. We can go somewhere else.”
“No,” I say quickly, and place my hand on his arm again (to soothe him, not because he’s nothing but firm, warm muscle underneath). “This is—I just—” I huff before collecting my words and taking a deep breath. “I didn’t know stores like this existed. Ones that cater to larger bodies.”
“But you’re really short.”
I roll my eyes, but the corner of my lip curls up. “We will see what their alterations crew can do.”
Hope washes over me, and as it recedes, my inner Dominant is exposed. So with a sly grin and my fingers still on his bicep, I erase his worry when I ask, “Is there a budget I should be mindful of?”
His pupils seem to dilate, and his effervescent smile returns. “No, ma’am.”
I should feel guilty, but this guy has an eight-million-dollar estate. A couple thousand dollars will not hurt him.
“Good,” I say, and bat my eyelashes for good measure. “Let’s find a dress.”
Paula notes the styles I gravitate towards and picks a few for me as we go.
She explains that, from cocktail hour to the Oscars, they can dress anyone from a size ten to a thirty.
I’m almost misty-eyed at that. I haven’t even tried on the dresses yet, and I’m blinking back the emotion at this whole situation.
I haven’t been spoiled like this since I was first married, and it’s grating to think about. I don’t need or desire expensive things. My forty-dollar handbags, knock-off Yankee candles, and ten-year-old SUV are fine with me.
My daughters are fed, loved, and happy. That’s all I need.
But I didn’t realize until just now how much this extravagant little excursion means.
I was unknowingly starved for just a little something extra—a little something unnecessary.
I’m hit with the sudden urge to walk out of this store with a dozen bags in my arms like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
Except now that I think about it, I’d like Jonah behind me, carrying my bags.
A tingling sensation races up my spine at the thought. Are my nipples hard?
After Paula gathers several options, she leads us to a lounge area centered between two dressing rooms. We take a seat on a circular, dusty rose velvet couch while Paula gathers more items.
Someone refills our champagne within seconds. I sit back and enjoy my mood.
Jonah can’t sit still though. “Do you like what you’ve picked out so far?”
I arch one eyebrow and take a sip before answering. “Yes.”
“Can I, um...” He wipes his palms down his jeans. “Can I pick some?”
“You wanna shop for me?” I ask, bemused.
He nods vigorously.
“Knock yourself out.”
He pulls gown after gown, bringing each one back to me to gauge my approval.
At the slightest look of displeasure, he tosses the dresses onto the nearest rack like they offend him far more than they offend me.
I have to school my features before he catches me.
.. I don’t know... enjoying myself around him?
How is that even possible? I’m repulsed at the thought.
I did not expect Jonah to be so involved in today’s purchase. Now that he is, I see the truth in his desire. He really does want to outfit a date. This is actually bringing him happiness.
If you had told me two years ago that my student, Jonah Johanssen, would take me shopping with his own money, I wouldn’t have believed you. Not even after that night at the strip club. No part of me would have believed you until this very hour.
Paula graciously accepts Jonah’s picks, and before I know it, she’s tying me up in a strapless evening gown. Silky smooth and midnight black, it’s cool to the touch and structured in the bodice.
“There’s also a high slit,” Paula says with a little mischief in her tone. She pulls the skirt slightly to reveal my pale leg, almost completely exposed. “If it’s too much, we can lower the slit in alterations,” she says. “Shall we show him?”
I’m lost at the sight of my cleavage. Unless I’m at the beach or in my Domme outfits, I never show this much. I don’t think I’ve ever shown this much of my chest in public before.
Paula guides me out, sweeping away the fabric of the too-long skirt so I can walk easily. Jonah’s eyes pop out of their sockets and lock in the second he sees my breasts.
I’m helped onto the round step surrounded by mirrors. “Does he need a towel for the drool?” Paula murmurs from behind me.
He’s up off the couch, striding toward me to get a closer look.
He beams. “I love this one,” he says. “You should get this one.”
I arch an eyebrow. “I thought it was my choice.”
“Of course, it is! I just mean, do you like it?”
“I do,” I say with a sigh, as I admire the way the silk glides under my palms. I bunch up the skirt in my hands and spin on my heel before stepping down and leaving him in my wake. “But I think it’s too revealing for a wedding.”
“I disagree,” he says while skipping next to us. “I think this is exactly what you should wear to a wedding with me.”
“Sit down and wait for me.”
He stops. Nods. Sits.
There’s a curse on the tip of my tongue because the urge to call him a good boy is so overwhelming I could choke on it.