“Okay,” Nia said, coming over to where the two women sat. Both of her arms were draped with dresses.
“This side is more conservative and elegant,” Nia said, raising her left arm. “These dresses will make people sit up straight and shut the hell up.”
Nia’s intensity and care for this process was inspiring, but Retta was still a little overwhelmed with the number of choices.
“My vote is for the right side,” Kym said.
“Let me try some on, and we can see,” Retta said, taking two dresses, one from each pile, into the change room.
She tried the more conventional dress on first, liking the flowy fabric and the fact that she could eat without any fussy, tight material constricting her.
She exited the change room and Kym instantly said, “No, ma’am.”
“What?” Retta asked, touching the dress and twirling around to look at herself in the full-length mirror. “I like it.”
Nia approached and pulled the garment to get it to sit better around Retta’s bust.
“You look like a reverend’s wife. Or a woman who still has a landline,” Kym said.
Retta frowned at her friend.
Nia scoffed and said, “Girl, shut up. There’s nothing wrong with a reverend’s wife or landlines, and I think this is a very nice option. It’s sophisticated. There’s some interesting construction in the neckline, and it’s perfectly suitable for a church wedding.”
Retta tilted her head.
“What do you think?” Nia coaxed. “How do youfeelin it?”
“It’s fine,” she replied. But that’s just it, fine would not do.
She returned to the change room, taking more dresses with her. However, this time all of them were from the hot pile. When she emerged wearing one of the sexy dresses, it wasn’t a great fit for her tall body. The next one made her already wide shoulders more prominent; she felt like a linebacker.
But she eventually stepped into a luxe emerald green A-line dress that hit her mid-thigh. It sat off the shoulder and almost looked like a lopsided bow.
She loved it.
“This one for the wedding,” Retta said.
Nodding, Nia said, “I agree. And then you can wear the black slinky one for the engagement party.”
Kym stood up, rubbing her lower back. “I know you two aren’t actually a couple, but Duncan is going to die when he sees you in the black one.”
The hairs on Retta’s arms stood up at the thought of Duncan narrowing his eyes and looking at her with a maddening half smile. It would reveal a whisper of the dimple in his cheek.
She shook her head. Who knew getting yanked from the precipice of an orgasm made you wax poetic?
“How’s the arrangement between you two going anyway?” Nia asked.
Retta’s mind went immediately to the moment when Duncan was between her thighs. “Good. No complaints.”
However, she was a little uncomfortable with how much she’d revealed to him on that table. Not because they weren’t true or she was ashamed of her desires, but because there was some control she relinquished when she admitted how much she wanted him.
They were no longer operating under the guise that everything they did was strategic and artificial. But perhaps it was okay to allow herself to get swept up in her attraction to Duncan. When the curtains dropped and their arrangement was over, none of it would be held against her.
Kym, unaware of Retta’s thoughts, said, “Great. So, now you have a beautiful dress, a fine ass date, and you’re ready to make a scene at these wedding events.”
Teetering in shoes Nia suggested she wear, Retta arrived at a condo where Chris and Irene’s engagement party was being held. She’d intended to arrive earlier but had gotten lost. A small part of her hoped she’d fail to find the place, so she could be free to return home and eat pie from the tin and watch reruns of home-reno shows. But no such luck.
As she rode the elevator to the thirty-third floor with a macaron tower in her hands, she reminded herself why she was doing this. Once in front of the correct door, she barely touched it before it swung open to reveal the interior of the home. A dozen or so enthusiastic guests she didn’t recognize were already mingling. They talked with their hands and laughed loudly like they discovered they’d all gone to the same high school. There was no sign of Duncan, however.
