compliments. Why not? She needed them as much as she needed to buy a whole new wardrobe. The old Jessica was put to rest the minute she’d heard about her so-called good friend eloping with her fiancé. So be it. Jessica would return to Beckon a new woman.
Her clothes would be stylish. Her attitude would brook no pity. And she’d have a few thousand dollars less in her very tidy bankroll.
Saving money wasn’t everything.
“I’ll just put these items in your dressing room,” Sybil announced. “Take your time looking around. When you’re ready, you’ll be in the Waves room.”
Jessica blinked. Even the dressing rooms had names. “Okay, thank you.”
She moved around the boutique slowly, taking her time perusing the shelves and racks. She picked out a two-piece bathing suit, a few hip-hugging dresses, two pairs of designer slim-cut jeans, and four blouses in varying colors and styles.
Sybil came racing forward. “Let me take those off your hands, too. I’ll put them in the dressing room.”
She transferred the clothes into Sybil’s outstretched arms. “Thanks.”
“Would you like to keep shopping?”
Jessica eyed several pairs of shoes on top of a lovely glass display case. “Yes, I’ll need some shoes, too.”
“I’ll have Carmine, our shoe attendant, help you with that.”
Thirty minutes later, Jessica glanced around the Waves dressing room. Clothes hung on every pretty golden hook, and shoes dotted the floor around her feet. She’d gone a bit hog-wild in her choices and needed guidance from someone who knew her well. She punched the speed dial on her cell phone and was relieved when her best friend, Sally, answered.
“Help me, Sally. I need your honest opinion,” she whispered. “I texted you pictures of five of the dresses I’ve tried on. Did you get them?”
“Sure did. I’m looking at them now.”
“Good.” The inventor of cell phone technology was a genius. It made shopping a whole lot easier. “Which ones do you like?”
“Gosh, none of them look bad on you. You have a great figure,” Sally said, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been hiding it.”
“I guess I have.” She’d never been comfortable with her busty appearance and had always chosen clothes to hide rather than highlight her figure. Now, all bets were off.
“Did you like the red one?”
“Definitely the red. That’s a given,” Sally said. “Whose eyeballs are you trying to ruin?”
“What do you mean?”
“That dress is an eye-popper.”
She pictured Zane. Why had he come to mind so easily? It was ridiculous and yet, something had hummed in her heart when he’d kissed her today. He’d been caught up in the scene. She shouldn’t make a darn thing out of it. But she was having a hard time forgetting the feel of his lips claiming hers. As short as the kiss was, it had been potent enough to shoot endorphins through her body. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
“Do you think maybe I shouldn’t be doing this?” she asked Sally, her bravado fading.
“Doing what? Pampering yourself? Spending some of your hard-earned money on yourself? Indulging a little? I’m only sorry I’m not there to help you with your TLC gone wild. Believe me, if I could swing it, I’d hop on a plane today.”
She chuckled. “TLC gone wild? That’s a new one, Sal.”
“I’m clever. What can I say? Buy the clothes, Jess. I’ll let you decide on the shoes, but those red stiletto heels will kick some major butt. Oh, and while you’re at it, lose the eyeglasses. You brought your contacts, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I have them.”
“Well, use them. If you’re going to do it, do it right.”
Of course, Sally was dead-on. If she was going to invest in these clothes, she had to go all the way. She’d already decided to ditch her tortoiseshell glasses. Her hair could use some highlights, and her California tan was coming along nicely. Already she felt better about herself.
“And Sal, I wish you could come out here. It’s really...nice.”
“I bet. Zane’s place sounds like heaven. Right on the beach. I bet you don’t even have any swamp heat and humidity.”
“Nope, not like home.”
“Tell me you haven’t met any big movie stars and I swear I won’t be jealous.”
“I, uh, well,” her voice squeaked.
“Who? Tell me or I’ll haunt you into forever.”
“Would you believe Dylan McKay lives two doors down?” Jessica squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating the bombardment. No one was a bigger fan of the Hollywood heartthrob than her bestie Sally.
“You’ve met him?”
“Yes, I sort of ran into him on the beach.” Or rather, the other way around—he’d run into her. “He’s a friend of Zane’s.”
“No way! I can’t believe it. Tell me everything.”
A knock on the dressing-room door startled her, and she jumped. She’d forgotten where she was.
“Miss Holcomb, can I help you with anything?” Sybil asked.
“Whoops, gotta go,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve got to get dressed. I’ll call you later.”
“You better!”
Jessica smiled as she ended the call and answered the saleswoman. “No thanks. I’m doing great.
“I’ll be out in one minute.”
“You sound happy. Find anything to your liking?”
“Just about everything,” she answered.
She imagined the attire concierge who worked on commission smiling on the other side of the door.
Her purchases today would make both of them happy.
* * *
Zane had received a text message from Jessica half an hour ago telling him not to wait for her to have his meal. She was going to be late. But he didn’t feel much like eating without her. It had taken Jessica living here for him to realize he’d eaten too many meals alone.
She must’ve gotten carried away on her little shopping spree.
When Jessica finally pulled through the gates, driving toward the garage, Zane made his way to the living room and, with the grace of an ox, plunked down onto the sofa.
A minute later the door opened into the back foyer, and he heard the crunch of bags and footsteps approaching. He picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages.
“Hi, Zane,” Jessica said. Her voice sounded breezy and carefree. “Sorry I’m so late.”
When he lifted his head, he found her loaded down with shopping bags. “Did you buy out the store?”
She chuckled from a warm and deep place in her throat. “Let’s just say the store manager couldn’t do enough for me. They offered me a vanilla latte and a chocolate mini croissant, and the shoe salesman almost gave me a foot massage.”
His brows gathered. “A foot massage?”
“I told him no. I didn’t have time. Is that done here?”
“I don’t know if it’s done anywhere,” Zane said. For heaven’s sake, she was buying shoes, not asking for a damn foot rub. His nerves started to sizzle. He studied the assortment of shiny teal-blue bags she held. “Where did you go?”