Chapter 31 : Indefinitely Yours

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Katelin's POV

"Thanks so much for helping me with this," I say, frowning at the lemon-yellow scrap of sheer fabric I'm holding up. Apparently, this is a dress. "I'm really not a fashion person."

Safia sighs longingly at the mauve silk trousers she's admiring. "I used to go to Milan fashion week at least once a year," she says. "I was so obsessed with clothes." She wrinkles her nose. "Until I started having babies and found out they like to spit up on your Hermes silk blouse."

I know she has four nannies taking care of her two small children. But Safia seems to be rather hands-on with her parenting, especially with little Gabriel who just turned one. "You're still so glamorous, though."

"Thank you." She sets down the pants on the sofa lovingly. "But my silk pants-wearing days are over. And I have to be happy to wait for the new collections to come to the East coast. I love my babies but they're not exactly the best companions for jet-setting around Europe. Here—" She gestures to the approaching staff pushing a rack full of clothes toward us. "—You need softer dresses, you can't keep wearing suits everywhere."

I wince. She's right, of course. My wardrobe is mostly office clothes and the jeans and shirts I wear when I'm not at work. And they're mostly mid-range designer pieces because that's the best I could afford. Good enough for an assistant, but never nearly good enough for Raul Marin's wife. Not by a long shot. Raul hasn't said anything because he knows better. Still, I can't keep showing up at family gatherings looking like his assistant. I'd been meaning to get new clothes but I'd forgotten it in all the excitement about the wedding.

This is why I'm out shopping on a Monday morning on Newbury street. Thankfully, Safia was happy to come along and help me because I'm entirely out of my depth.

"I have to try all of that?" I say, staring in dismay at what looks like twenty dresses on the rack. Goodness, we'll be here all day.

"Kerri is putting together a selection for evenings," Safia says.

"There's more?" I hear the dismayed tone in my voice and mentally kick myself. I smile apologetically at the woman who brought the rack. She's just doing her job.

Safia ignores my whining. "She'll bring them in soon. But let's try this for now." She nudges me encouragingly toward the fitting rooms.

Thankfully it turns out to be less of an ordeal than I thought. Instead of giving me one of the fitting stalls, they take Safia and me to an actual room. I have a feeling this is a room that isn't offered to just anyone.

My sister-in-law sits on a comfortable sofa being served champagne while I change into outfit after outfit behind a screen divider. Because I'm not struggling to zip myself up in a cramped fitting stall and instead had a helpful stylist assisting me, the fitting happened quickly.

I walk out from behind the screen in the fifth outfit, a yellow lace midi dress, to see Safia texting on her phone.

"This is a little too..." I gesture at the straps on my shoulders. "... bare for me."

She raises her eyes to study me. "No, no, it's perfect. And you have beautiful shoulders! You should show them off more."

"I don't know." I make a face at one of the three full-length mirrors in the room. I do like the color, though. And I could probably wear a jacket or shawl over it. "Shouldn't I be wearing the company brand?"

"Sure when we finally start manufacturing more dressy stuff. Until then, you'll have to make do with Valentino, okay?"

I laugh. "Maybe I could start a Twitter campaign."

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