Claustrophobic Page 6

  Julian and his father fled the room, and I considered following them. “For the record, I have never done something like this in my entire life.”

  “If we have to change your underwear, I’ll send you to the bathroom, don’t worry. Pretend you’re in a bikini. I find that helps with the shyer ladies. You’ll be fine. And honestly, an extra pair of hands helps getting in and out of these dresses. We’ll start with the elf dress so the whiners in the other room don’t complain if we go over a few minutes.”

  While Kristine’s dress clung to me in suffocating fashion, the one Julian’s mother tossed me into clung to my every curve, treated my breasts far better than I expected, and despite lacking sleeves, magically stayed in place even when I bounced around, shook my chest, and otherwise did my best to dislodge my attire.

  Best of all, I could sneeze without worrying about a thing. I ran into Julian’s kitchen, hunted for his pepper, and put the dress to the test just to be certain.

  My breasts stayed where they belonged, cradled by satiny red fabric.

  Julian’s mother laughed. “That’s the expression of a woman who has learned a dress can be her friend. Like that, do you?”

  “What is this sorcery?” I demanded, pointing at my breasts. “It’s still on!”

  “I do try to avoid designing wardrobe malfunctions. It’s one part good design, one part having the right chest size for that specific dress. I get a lot of women with larger busts who’d love to wear a strapless gown but worry they’ll give a show.” She patted my stomach below my breasts. “I use a stiffer material here and right up to beneath your breasts to offer a little extra support. It’s not quite a corset, but it helps keep things where they belong. Add in the higher back and snug fit, and that dress isn’t going anywhere unless someone screws around with your laces. Unfortunately, this dress does require help with the lacing. A zippered dress just wouldn’t work for this. The fur shawl I’m adding will let me add straps to it for an extra layer of protection. I wouldn’t trust this dress in a mall with kids around, so the shawl will serve double duty. First, it’ll keep anyone from untying your dress easily. Second, it’ll help make sure you stayed covered when dealing with children.”

  “I shook my chest, Mrs. Carter. The dress didn’t budge. I don’t think it’s going anywhere.”

  “My job is to dress you for all circumstances, and the last thing you need is the slightest worry about popping a boob at the mall.” Julian’s mother tugged at the dress at my waist, nodding her satisfaction. “I’m not even going to have to take it in at all. It’s hanging on you really well. Good. I’ll just have to add the straps and fur, and it’ll be ready to go. I’ll do it at home once I have your shoulder measurements so the boys don’t cry I’m sewing instead of kicking their asses at Scrabble. Julian can bring it to you when it’s ready. Julian!”

  Julian appeared, and his eyes widened when he spotted me. “Do you have to trash that dress? It’s really nice, Mom.”

  “I’m not going to trash the dress. I’m going to add white fur to it and give her straps and a pretty shawl so she doesn’t get cold in the mall. Don’t you say such nasty things to me. You need to deliver the dress when I’m done altering it. Maybe tomorrow, otherwise Tuesday. You can be a gentleman for once in your life and drive her home from work.”

  “I’m always a gentleman, Mother.”

  He really was. “I think this is your punishment for becoming an active participant, Julian.”

  He laughed. “All right. Right you are. What time are you off work on Tuesday?”

  “Eleven.”

  “I’ll pick you up from the cafe down the street. I’ll get indigestion if I go too close to the office.”

  Julian’s mother rolled her eyes so hard I worried she’d faint. “Julian, behave.”

  “I am behaving. I’m not going near the office, as I get these difficult-to-suppress urges to knock heads together. So many idiots in so little space should be criminal.”

  “Please forgive my son. He has opinions.”

  Duh. He was a New Yorker. Had she really been expecting anything else? “I will not say no to avoiding public transit on Tuesday night.”

  I’d be able to get some extra sleep, which I would treasure.

  “All right. Tuesday night, then. Mom, please remember you do have real work you have to do.”

  “Art can’t be rushed, and I’m busy making a masterpiece here. Go back to your game. If you try to rush me, I’ll take three times as long just to spite you, and I’ll make you drive her home after work every day this week because I will alter extra clothes. Maybe I’ll design a new dress just for her.”

  I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh in Julian’s face.

  “Mother, please.”

  “Go play games with your father until we’re finished here. And don’t you even try to act like you don’t love it, punk. You look for excuses to invite us over because we’ll play with you.”

  Julian threw his arms up in the air and returned to the living room.

  “He’s a handful. I’d apologize for him, except I’m totally the reason he is as he is, and I have no shame about how he turned out.”

  “You really don’t have to adjust the dress?”

  “The adjustment I have in mind is a belt, which will solve any and all concerns I have about its fit. Don’t fix what isn’t broken is how I like to operate. It’ll take less than an hour to do everything at my house. Let’s blitz through the rest of the clothes and get to the good part of our night. Let’s get you out of that and try on everything else. I’ll loan Julian my SUV so he can take you home, as he’ll whine you’re being abandoned with the big, bad wolf.”

  “You don’t make a good wolf so far. You haven’t growled at me once.”

  She laughed. “I only growl when people do stupid shit and make me deal with it. I’ll be growling plenty tomorrow. I have a full schedule dealing with crimes against clothes. Friday? Friday had me snarling. There was this woman who wanted to partner a neon green skirt with a red blouse.”

  “Neon green?”

  “It was wretched. And she wanted one of my skirts to do it with. I declined. Don’t ask about what she was going to do to her poor husband. I refused that, too. I told them if they wanted to look like a Christmas tree, I could come up with something that wouldn’t burn anyone’s eyes, especially mine. I need my eyes.”

  “But why neon green?”

  “That’s what I wanted to know. Unfortunately, I wasn’t told. I considered firing that client, too. Neon green! Neon green!”

  “So, I take it I shouldn’t ask for anything in neon green?”

  “You would look like an idiot, and it’s my job to make sure you don’t look like an idiot. If you want neon green, do a swimsuit. No one’s going to pay attention to your swimsuit.”

  “Good to know.”

  “You typically wear slacks and blouses to work?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I’m sure those closet thieves brought some of everything. Don’t worry, I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”

  I hoped I survived through the next forty minutes of my life. Death by fashion designer seemed like a terrible way to go.

  Sometime between trying on dresses and jeans inspired by Chinese dragons with a side dish of cherry blossoms, Julian’s mother stole my actual clothes, leaving me with a choice of wearing clothes she picked for me or going out into the living room in my underwear. I glared at the woman, hands on my hips. “You stole my clothes.”

  “Those jeans look better on you, and dragons are badass. You don’t need anything other than a nice blouse, as you don’t want to outshine those jeans.” Julian’s mother pointed at the black, heeled boots I’d likely start sleeping with so no one would take them from me. “Wear those.”

  Some orders were easy to obey. “These boots are the reason you’re losing at Scrabble tonight. That’s all I have to say.”

  She laughed. “Good. Motivation makes for a better game. I’ll ma
ke sure all this is sorted and load the clothes you’re taking with you into the SUV. It’ll only take a few minutes, so you can start getting the game set up.”

  “Okay.” I retreated, pretending like I didn’t want to run to safety, and returned to the living room. Julian and his father engaged in a staring contest over a card game. “She stole my clothes, Julian.”

  “She’ll probably send them back with me on Tuesday. She does things like that. She probably saw a little wear and tear and wanted to fix them. Unless she’s taking her scissors to them, I wouldn’t worry much.”

  “Odds I’ll get them back in one piece?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Julian glanced up from his game, looking me over. “I don’t know where she got those, but you should keep them.”

  “I made them, you jerk!” Julian’s mother complained from the other room, stomping over with a box of clothes in her arms. “And for that, I’m going to be sending you to her place to drop off clothes every day for two weeks. That’ll teach you.”

  “Mom.”

  “Don’t you take that tone with me. I’m loading the SUV, which you will be driving tonight when you take her home. Your dumbass, tiny car won’t fit everything.”

  “You’re being excessive. Did you ask her if she even wanted new clothes? You can’t just give away everything in your closet all the time.”

  Julian’s mother looked me in the eyes. “What is the probability you’d hire me to design you clothes, Chloe?”

  “The last time I bought clothes, I stopped into the Salvation Army because I needed a sweater and didn’t want to spend more than ten dollars on one,” I confessed. “I don’t think I could afford a five-minute consultation.”

  To make it clear I’d claimed the boots as mine, I pointed at them. “As she stole my clothes, I’m claiming these as mine, and I’ll sleep with them if necessary to keep her grubby hands off them.”

  Julian’s mother laughed. “Not even I am monster enough to come between a woman and her next pair of favorite shoes. The instant you saw them, your face lit up.”

  A blush burned my cheeks. “Was I that obvious?”

  “I bet even Julian would’ve noticed. Don’t worry about it. It’s one of the joys of being a designer, when someone sees something you made, and it’s obvious they love it. I’m glad those boots are leaving my closet. With you, they’ll go places.” She wrinkled her nose. “My bratty employees told me those boots would never sell because they’re too classic. I’ll show them, and you’ll help me. Then they’ll get added to my winter line where they belong. Damned pesky, bratty employees. Telling me my boots are too plain. Every woman needs a good pair of slick, black boots in her closet!”

  Julian sighed. “If you say so, Mom. Are you done dressing poor Chloe up?”

  “For the moment. If you catch her trying to change her clothes, stop her. Those jeans belong on her and on no one else. I confiscated her clothes so she wouldn’t try to give them back. She’s stubborn. I could see her getting ready to give them back. I refuse to be thwarted.”

  “I’m so sorry, Chloe.”

  I pointed at my new boots. “I’m keeping these, and if I have to take the blouse and jeans home with me, too, that is a price I’m willing to pay.”

  “See? This is a woman who has found her favorite pair of shoes. Finish your game so we can play Scrabble. I’ll get the clothes loaded. It won’t take long, I just want to make sure you can get out the door right after we finish so you’re not out all night long.”

  “Draw?” Julian asked.

  “Draw,” his father confirmed, tossing down his cards. “Why did we start that game?”

  “We assumed Mom would overshoot her estimate by two hours rather than ten minutes.”

  “You two,” Julian’s mother complained. “I’ll be five minutes. That should give you enough time to put that game away.”

  For someone who meticulously put his games away and organized them, Julian wasted no time dumping the cards into the box. I arched a brow and pointed. “That is going to be a mess to clean up later.”

  He laughed. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow, otherwise you’ll be waiting for an hour while I separate the cards and set the game back up for next time. Dad’ll be around to bother me soon, I’m sure. He gets lonely. It’s hard caring for my parents. They need so much attention. I’ve been thinking I should get a puppy. Puppies have to be less work.”

  “You’re allergic to dogs,” Julian’s father muttered.

  Poor Julian. “Are you allergic to cats, too?”

  “Only dogs. Do you think a cat would work as parent repellent?”

  “No,” Julian’s parents announced. His mother headed for the garage, muttering to herself.

  While Julian and his father finished packing up the card game, I claimed a seat at the Scrabble table and shook the bag to make sure the letters would be truly random. True to his mother’s word, she returned within five minutes, sat across from me at the table, and drummed her fingers on the polished surface. “You have no chance of winning.”

  Maybe I didn’t have her obsession with a dictionary, but I had every high-scoring word combination and placement memorized. “So Julian said.”

  With my new boots, new jeans, blouse, and other clothes on the line, I’d make every letter count, work to score high, and take no mercy on any of them. Victory would be mine.

  Mine, mine, mine, along with my new wardrobe.

  “Dad beats her one in five games, and only if he’s lucky. She’s evil. We can’t win.” Julian took a seat next to me, and to my amusement, he pouted. “Don’t wager against her. She’ll take you for everything you’re worth and then some. She’s ruthless.”

  Too late. I laughed, shaking my head. “You must have gotten your enjoyment of winning from her.”

  “I think I got a double dose,” he complained. “And they love to make me lose whenever possible.”

  “Would you have won that card game?”

  Julian’s father snickered and sat. “I would’ve kicked his ass. You spared his poor, bruised ego from another loss tonight.”

  “Young lawyers tend to talk big while getting defeated in embarrassing fashions.”

  Julian’s father snickered. “She’s got you there, Julian.”

  “What dictionary are we using?” I asked.

  Everyone pointed at one of the shelves, where I discovered a large stack of dictionaries waiting for use. “Ah. As long as it’s found in a dictionary it counts?”

  Julian chuckled, stole the bag from me, and gave it another shake before drawing a letter and offering the bag back to me. “Basically. Mom can’t pick just one, so we’ll argue about it. We lack in common sense sometimes.”

  I drew a tile and offered the bag to Julian’s father. “That works. Legitimate scientific terms allowed?”

  “Science is life,” Julian’s mother declared.

  I foresaw a great deal of arguing over spellings and word choices, but I’d deal with it. All the words I meant to use, I could pull out from any one of the dictionaries on the shelf. I revealed my tile, which revealed the damned Z, rendering me as the last player to go. To make things even more interesting, Julian pulled the blank tile, thus earning the honor of going first.

  Julian’s parents didn’t even bother revealing their tiles, tossing them back into the bag.

  “We go clockwise around the table,” Julian said, gathering the tiles, making sure they were all back in the bag, and giving it a good shake. It went around the table until we all had seven tiles, and without missing a beat, Julian played LOVER.

  Omen? Bad luck? Good luck? My first draw left me with a mess, although I had the prized X, begging for me to put it to good use. By the time my turn came around, The Carters were already snarling at each other, determined to win. In Julian’s case, I suspected he wanted to obstruct them more than anything.

  While they amused themselves, I’d focus on trying to grab as many points as possible.

  Within ten minute
s, I understood why Julian believed his mother couldn’t be beat; luck favored her, and she made off with my beloved Q, but she left it in a place where I could put my X to use and bag the triple score in the corner while wiping out my entire rack.

  I’d enjoy walking off with over seventy delicious points in one move, putting me in the lead. With some luck and good words, I’d stay there, too.

  I stared at the other end of the board to make it look like I wasn’t interested in the Q.

  No one paid any attention to me, and with a merry whistle, I played QUIXOTIC, taking my time placing the C so I could enjoy their stunned expressions. “Oh, how sad. It seems I’ve run out of tiles. What a tragedy.” I looked Julian’s mother in the eyes and smiled. “Isn’t that right?”

  She narrowed her eyes, stared at the board, and then glared at Julian, pointing at him. “You did this on purpose. You brought home someone who knows how to play Scrabble on purpose!”

  “Uh, I had no idea she had any idea how to play Scrabble.”

  I grinned. “Didn’t I tell you, Julian? I really don’t like losing. In other news, I like surprises. Surprise!”

  “You only have yourself to blame for this, Julian,” his mother announced. “This is what you get for not doing sufficient research before you bring a nice girl home. You’ve set us all up for a bitter defeat. Worse, she knew it. She sat there, smug as a bug in a rug, aware she wasn’t just talking big. She thinks she can beat me, Julian. Me!”

  Julian pointed at the score card. “Thinks, Mom? She is. By fifty points so far.”

  “And look who is in last place, Julian,” I added, pointing at his name. “You. Come on, you can do better than that. I thought you were this hot-shot attorney.”

  Sometimes, I enjoyed lighting fires to watch them burn, and according to Julian’s expression, I’d lit an inferno right under his ass. Unless he got luckier than me, he wouldn’t win, but perhaps he could unseat his father for a change.