Real Women Don't Wear Size 2 (3 page)

“You’re going to be gorgeous,” Babette said, licking her finger and gingerly tapping the curling iron to check the heat. She was taller than Clarise, and she was skinny, something she’d acquired from their mother’s side of the family. Clarise, on the other hand, had gotten the Robinson Treasures that refused to be hidden. They sure enough wouldn’t be hiding in that red dress; she just hoped they stayed contained. And on that thought, she laughed out loud.

“What?” Babette asked, spritzing Clarise’s hair with gel, then wrapping a section around the hot iron.

“I’m wondering if I’ll be able to control these in that thin fabric,” Clarise said, indicating her chest. Her blue satin robe gaped in the front, and at least two inches of cleavage and breast overpowered the open V.

Babette grabbed another chunk of hair, wrapped it on the curling iron and snorted. “If you flash the company, be sure to call me and let me know. I’ve never pictured you as the flashing type and would love to hear the details when you set those babies free.”

Clarise grinned at her sister. “Well, I don’t plan on flashing any of them tonight, but if I go to Gasparilla next month, I hear flashing is a surefire way to get plenty of beads.” And, if she’s lucky, Ethan’s attention.

Babette’s mouth crooked to the side, but she continued curling hair as she spoke. “You know, Clarise, that corporate bonding thing really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Clarise’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I didn’t mind going last year when you decided not to make the trip, but it really wasn’t all that great. And the people down there are wild, you know. They really do take off their tops and show everything for a few plastic beads—no joke. In fact, the whole place is full of bare chests, lots of alcohol, wild parties, you name it, and I’m not quite sure that it’s, you know, your kind of thing.”

Clarise blinked. Babette had been trying to talk her into “setting her wild side free” for years, as had Ethan. Now her sister was trying to talk her out of it? At least Ethan had still encouraged her to go. But as much as she cared for Babette, she wasn’t going to let her sister, or anybody else, talk her out of the trip this time. She was thirty years old and it was high time she at least tried to locate her wild side. She’d start by testing the waters tonight with the Ben de Lisi, then let it go completely next month at Gasparilla. “It may not be my kind of thing,” she admitted, “but I’m going to give it a try.”

“We can talk about it some more as it gets closer,” Babette said sweetly. Too sweetly. Obviously, she thought she could talk Clarise out of going, but she couldn’t. However, Clarise wasn’t going to argue the point tonight, not when she was getting ready to let Ethan glimpse her sexy side. If it worked, maybe Gasparilla would involve the removal of her top, and everything else, with Ethan. She could tell Babette about the vow she made on her birthday, merely weeks ago, that she wasn’t going to let that old fear of rejection keep her from going for what she wanted—and what she wanted was Ethan, as more than a friend and more than a boss. Tonight, she planned on the red dress setting that in motion. She wanted him to see her as a female rather than merely a female friend. If she accomplished that goal, then at Gasparilla, in the wildness of Tampa at the infamous Pirate Festival, who knew what might happen?

“Yeah,” Clarise said, as sweetly as Babette, “we can talk about it later.”

Babette finished the last curl, so that Clarise looked like a brunette Shirley Temple in the mirror. “Okay, let’s make these curls shine. Here,” Babette said, scooting Clarise’s lighted makeup mirror across the counter, “you don’t have a lot of time to waste, so you’d better make the most of it.” In the next thirty minutes, Babette positioned every curl perfectly in place on Clarise’s crown and accented each with a rhinestone-embellished bobby pin, while Clarise applied makeup. When they’d finished, Clarise’s straight hair was a fountain of curls on top of her head, with two long tendrils hanging in front of each ear and tiny spiral strands tickling her nape. “Perfect,” Babette said, admiring her handiwork. “Okay, I’m going to put some coffee on and go get Granny Gert. You’re good to put the dress on by yourself, right?”

Clarise slowly nodded. Her stomach was beginning to get a bit squeamish from nerves, and she didn’t want to risk moving too quickly.

Babette cocked her head to the side. “Don’t worry. You’re going to get his attention.”

“Whose attention?” Clarise asked, her stomach clamping down tight and making her feel even worse.

“Whoever is it you’re going after,” Babette said, then winked. “Did you actually believe I wouldn’t know you were going to all of this trouble to impress a man? And he must be really something too, huh?”

“Yeah,” Clarise breathed.

“Not ready to tell me who it is?” Babette continued. “I bet it’s one of those hunky department heads, isn’t it?”

“You’re right,” Clarise said, then added, “I’m not ready to tell you.”

Babette laughed. “Well, if you’re going to get to the party on time and see him—whoever
he
is—you’d better get your dress on.” She pointed to a sheet of paper taped to Clarise’s bathroom mirror. “At least that’s what the list says.”

Clarise grabbed a pen from the counter and checked the items on today’s to-do list. She’d always been a list person, loved setting goals and feeling that major sense of accomplishment when she checked them off one by one. Today’s list had been fairly simple: 1) work, 2) coffee with Ethan, 3) buy book for Granny Gert, 4) Babette—hair, 5) Rachel and Jesilyn—girls’ night out. Thank goodness she hadn’t embellished the list to include flirting with Ethan over coffee and taunting him in a red dress, but those two were most definitely on today’s list, if only in Clarise’s mind.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Granny Gert is going to love this,” Babette said.

Clarise moved to the bedroom, dropped her robe on the bed, then slipped into the luxury of flaming red satin. The dress was made for her, if she did say so herself, its gentle pleats following her curves and accentuating a shape she hadn’t realized existed. There wasn’t anything fluffy to her body in this dress. Everything was in its place, and everything looked really, really good. She couldn’t contain her smile, and was still grinning giddily in the mirror when Granny Gert barged in, followed by Babette, Jesilyn and Rachel.

The three younger women made the same sound, a cross between a balloon losing air and an “ahhh,” while Granny Gert slapped her hands together and giggled so exuberantly that her Robinson Treasures bounced along with the action. “Yes, child,” she said. “Oh, yes!”

“What do you think of the back?” Clarise asked, turning so they could see the sexy dip of fabric that pooled at the indention where her spine curved into her behind.

“Oh, Clarise, it’s perfect! Do we sell it at the store?” Jesilyn asked, wedging past the others to touch the red fabric.

“No, we don’t,” she said, then added in a whisper, “it’s a Ben di Lisi original.”

“Get out,” Rachel said, her head bobbing and sending her long blond curls waving against her shoulders. “Well, trust me, that one was made for you. Every set of male eyes will be on you, Clarise. Shoot, maybe I should go home and put on something more revealing, so they’ll remember to at least talk to me.”

Clarise clucked her tongue. “As if. You look gorgeous. Both of you do,” she said, indicating Rachel’s navy velvet gown with a split showing the majority of her right leg, and Jesilyn’s beaded strapless pantsuit, shimmering silver with matching heels.

“Yes, you’re all stunning,” Granny Gert said, “but Clarise, I’m going to be honest here. I can’t say that you’ve ever looked more . . . hot.”

Babette wrapped an arm around her grandmother and squeezed her. “Yep, Granny, you’re right. She does look hot.”

Rachel was still laughing over Granny Gert’s remark as she steered her car out of Clarise’s apartment complex and headed down I-59 toward the Civic Center. “I can’t imagine my grandmother telling me that I look hot,” she said, “but she’s right, Clarise. You do. I bet Jake will think so too.”

“Jake?” Clarise asked, perplexed.

“He’s been dropping hints that he’s interested in getting to know you better,” Jesilyn enlightened. “Didn’t we tell you?”

“No. No, you didn’t,” Clarise said, suddenly recalling Ethan’s comments from this afternoon. Jake Riley? Interested in her?

“Well, I’m betting he lets you know on his own tonight, particularly when he’s drooling over you in that dress,” Rachel continued.

Clarise swallowed. Jake Riley was hot; that was for sure. But he wasn’t the one she wanted drooling over her. Then again, if she looked good enough to make Jake drool, did that mean she looked good enough to make Ethan drool too? Yeah, she’d bet that was exactly what it meant. All she could think was . . . she couldn’t wait. And that’s exactly what she was thinking when the car started sounding like a popcorn machine, and the steering wheel started to shake.

Chapter 2

E
than, you should probably make your announcements. The party has been going for a good two hours, and some of the attendees who have little ones are probably going to start heading home,” Lillian Eubanks said. Preston Eubanks, standing a short distance away, agreed with his wife’s advice. “Your mother is right. Some of the Panache folks have early-morning flights too and will undoubtedly be returning to their hotel soon. You’ve got an early flight too, don’t you?”

Ethan nodded, scanned the room once more, but saw no sign of Clarise. He’d looked forward to announcing the potential acquisition all day, but he’d been even more eager to announce the winner of the first Eubanks Pacemaker Award. Without Clarise’s presence, however, what was the point? And where was she, anyway? She wasn’t the typical female, arriving fashionably late in order to make a statement. Clarise was more the “fifteen minutes prior is proper etiquette” type of woman, which was one of the things he liked most about his friend. He could always count on her to make the company look good. But tonight, he wanted to honor her achievements, and she was nowhere to be seen. Plus, he had intentionally refrained from mentioning the Panache deal during their coffee chat this afternoon. He’d wanted her to be as surprised, and impressed, as the rest of Eubanks employees tonight when he made the formal announcement. But—another scan of the ballroom—she wasn’t here. And neither were Jesilyn and Rachel, his department heads for accessories and women’s eveningwear. Obviously, this was a big night for the company. Where were they?

“I’ll get things started,” Preston said, placing his empty wineglass on a passing waiter’s tray, then leaving his wife and Ethan to move toward the stage.

Totally accustomed to speaking in front of a crowd, Preston Eubanks provided background on the company, discussed the longevity of the original Birmingham location, then followed up with the successes of the newer Atlanta store. He ended with, “Yes, Eubanks Elegant Apparel has definitely had a stellar showing this year, but the future is going to be even brighter. I’m going to ask my son, Ethan, to let you in on the future plans for the company.”

Ethan took the stage and decided to go ahead with the speech he’d planned, even though Clarise still hadn’t shown. However, he did reverse the order, starting with the Panache news and saving the other announcement for later, just in case she made an appearance. “As my father noted, Eubanks Elegant Apparel has had a phenomenal year. In fact, the company has grown by leaps and bounds; however, we realize that you can only grow so much with two stores. Therefore,” he said, as he saw several arm-punching pay-attention-to-this gestures ripple around the room, “we’re looking at the possibility of acquiring more locations for business. Sixteen additional locations, in fact.” He waited a moment for the soft rumble of whispers that accompanied this news. “You may have noticed we have quite a few visitors with us this evening. In addition to the spouses of our employees, we also have several members of the board of directors for Panache Clothing Stores, a chain I’m sure you’ll recognize from its presence across the Southeast. Over the next four weeks, I’ll personally visit each of the Panache locations, then I’ll meet with Panache executives regarding an acquisition that would provide a smooth transition for these facilities from Panache to Eubanks.” The smiles spreading through the audience warmed Ethan’s heart. This had been his goal—to turn Eubanks Elegant Apparel into a national chain. True, acquiring the Panache chain would only give prominence to their presence across the Southeast, but it was a big step toward the final goal, and he couldn’t be more thrilled. He inadvertently scanned the audience again. If he’d have known Clarise wouldn’t make it for the announcement tonight, he’d have told her this afternoon. He had no doubt she’d be as excited—well, nearly as excited—as he was about his dream finally seeing fruition. Plus, he really wanted her to be present for the following announcement. Unfortunately, though, he still hadn’t seen her in the crowd.

“As you’ve probably guessed,” he continued, “the new acquisition will provide opportunity for current Eubanks employees to transfer to the new locations, ranging as far north as Myrtle Beach to as far south as Miami. If you’re interested in relocating, please see my father, Preston Eubanks, during the next four weeks, while he’s overseeing the Birmingham store in my absence. He’ll take requests on a first come, first serve basis, and we’ll do our best to fill open positions, particularly department head positions, with current Eubanks employees.” Another flurry of smiles, nods and arm punches washed over the audience, and Ethan performed another perfunctory scan to see if Clarise had arrived. If she was there, he sure couldn’t see her. He inwardly sighed and saw no reason to stall his last announcement.

“As I said, we’ve had a great year, and we’re wise enough to know the reason why—exceptional employees. At Eubanks, we sell the best, but we also hire the best, and I’d like to thank all of you for doing your part to make our company look good. Tonight, in fact, we’d like to honor a Eubanks employee who has excelled not only in sales, but also in providing customer satisfaction.” Ethan lifted the gold engraved plaque from its hiding place in the podium and turned it toward the crowd. “We’re calling this award the Pacemaker Award, since the recipient essentially sets the pace, the high standard, for others to emulate. Tomorrow evening, at the Atlanta store’s holiday party, my brother will present a Pacemaker Award to one of his employees, but tonight, I’m honoring our first recipient, a woman who never fails to provide a smile and helpful advice to her customers, always surpasses her goals in sales and has the unparalleled fashion sense that Eubanks patrons expect from our department heads.” Ethan paused. He’d really wanted to give her the award in person rather than merely announcing it to her peers, so he scanned the room once more . . . and nearly dropped the heavy award when he noticed the vision in red standing near the back of the ballroom.