If she liked them all, she could keep them.
Bart rejoined them, meeting Rebecca's frantic gaze as she lifted half a dozen outfits to try on in the dressing room. “They just let you walk in and out of this place and give you clothes?”
He shrugged and took a seat near her dressing room. “It’s my sister’s storefront. Wear whatever is your favorite.”
A bright pink dress caught his eye and he had the staff find another in Rebecca's size.
"Is black good?" she called from behind the curtain.
A woman returned with the bright shift.
“Here, try this.” Bart handed her a dress without glancing in.
She took it and paused. “It’s hot pink, Bart.”
He claimed his seat to wait as he said, “It reminds me of something my mother loved to wear when I was a boy. She used to sing around the house.”
Feet shuffled behind the curtain as she asked in a muffled tone, “She was a singer?”
He smiled at the memory of his mother baking in the kitchen when he came home from school. He hadn't thought about his mother in years. “Not professionally, but she liked to sing when she was happy.”
Rebecca popped her head out and one of the attendants came in to help her as she said, “That sounds like a good memory. I don’t have many of my mom.”
He heard a zipper and then the worker left the dressing room holding the pink dress. “What was she like?”
The lady returned with a different size and waited for Rebecca outside the curtain as she said, “I don’t know. She’s off traveling the world, still trying to find herself. I used to collect her postcards, but I stopped after high school. Then when she died, well…”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Sounds to me like yours was a good mom.”
Not seeing her child seemed strange. His mother had often walked them to school herself, even when she didn’t have to. He wouldn’t be who he was without her support and love. “Why?”
She poked her head out, smiled at him and signaled the worker to help again as she said mostly behind the curtain, “My mother traveled the globe and I stayed home and worked with my father. The postcards hurt to read, because she was so happy, away from us.”
Work. Hmm. She hadn’t told him what she did for a living yesterday, and he thought he’d asked. “What does your father do?”
The curtain flew open and the worker shuffled away. Rebecca came out in a short-sleeve knee-length dress that clung to her perfectly as she asked, “How do I look?”
“Bellisma.” He kissed the tips of his fingers and stood.
She nodded like they were in agreement. “Then I’ll buy it.”
Perhaps she didn’t understand—he only paid tips for the attendant’s help, because Gio, and now Victoria, refused to take his money. He’d gift her the other dresses too and have them delivered, just in case they ever went out again.
Like a date. Her words from last night echoed in his mind as he shook his head and said, “Don’t be absurd. This is my family’s shop. Meet me at the door.”
She nodded, and he quickly talked to the cashier.
Instead of just the dresses he decided to ensure she had a wardrobe for anything they might do together.
Once he finished, he walked over to her and offered his arm. “Ready?”
She patted his arm as she linked hers with his and said, “I’m ready for anything with you.”
With any other woman he’d have made some joke about her words, but with Rebecca, there was something else to discover. Bart didn’t want to rock the boat and have her leave him just as suddenly as she’d stormed into his life. He was curious to see what happened next with Rebecca on his arm.
Chapter 5
