“That’s why we’re here. Silas rescued me. I’m happy to be with him.”
She nods, but her gaze doesn’t soften. “Just don’t jump from the frying pan into the fire. You be sure he’s good all the way through before you hitch your wagon to his. Especially a man as good-looking as that one. The handsomer they are, the meaner they are, in my experience. That’s why I married my Gregory. He’s got a face for radio, as they say, but he’s the most loving man I’ve ever known.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Silas is kind. I haven’t known him long, but he’s been nothing but kind and understanding.”
She leans closer. “If he starts to act like his help entitles him to anything from you, you run. Hear me?”
I nod. “I hear you.”
She claps her hands. “Well, now. That’s out of the way. Let me see what we’re working with. Shirt off, dear.”
Blushing, I slowly unbutton my blouse and remove it. She peruses me with a professional eye, frowning. “That can’t be comfortable at all. It’s far too small, for one thing. It’s at least a full size too small around the bust, and the cups have to be compressing your poor breasts like a vise.” She tisks, clicking her tongue. “Wait here.”
She pops out, closing the door behind her, and returns a few minutes later with half a dozen bras. She hands me one. “Try that one on for me.” I hesitate, and she just huffs. “Oh come now. We both have them, and it’s nothing I haven’t seen a million times before.”
I slowly comply, unhooking the old garment and putting on the new one. Immediately, the difference is obvious.
My shock must show on my face because the woman laughs. “What a difference a properly fitting bra makes, huh?”
“It’s amazing!”
She slips behind me and turns me to face the mirror. “Take a look. That’s how it should fit.”
I’ve never spent much time in front of the mirror, but I can see the difference as obviously as I can feel it. “It’s amazing. Thank you so much!” My nose stings.
She tuts. “Oh, come now. None of that. It’s a simple enough thing.” She sorts through the other bras and hands me a different one. “Try that one. It’s a different style, a different kind of fit. More for him than for you, if you take my meaning.”
“It’s… I’m not sure what you mean.”
She meets my gaze in the mirror. “I mean he will appreciate the way that one looks on you. It’s not going to be as comfortable to wear all day like the one you have on right now, but it’s…well, it’s intended to come off, you might say.”
I blush. “Oh. I see.”
She laughs. “You’re an innocent one, aren’t you?”
“I guess.”
“Well, never mind. Just try it on.”
I change into the new one, and I see what she means right away. The other bra was white and soft and supportive, with full coverage. This one is more lace than anything else, pushing my breasts up to display them rather than merely supporting them. The overall effect is…well, I can imagine Silas’s gaze on me wearing it, and my blood heats at the prospect.
“I see,” I murmur.
“God certainly didn’t skimp when he was giving you your breasts, my dear,” she says, laughter in her voice.
I blush even harder. “Um. Thank you?”
She just laughs out loud and hands me one more. “Last one. Every girl needs at least three bras: a good, supportive, comfortable one, a sexy one, and a sports bra.”
I’m assuming this one is a sports bra: it’s tight, compressing my breasts against my chest. But it’s not painful; in fact, it’s more comfortable than the first one. It’s also bright blue with white swirls, splotches, and whorls.
Reluctantly, I remove the sports bra and even more reluctantly put on the old one; it’s like putting on wet socks.
The woman watches me grimace as I put on the old bra. “Nope, nope, nope. You take that garbage off right this instant, young lady. You’re not wearing it a moment more. Look—the underwire is leaving marks on your skin.”
“But, I can’t not wear a bra,” I protest.
“Sure you can.”
