Invisible String

Chapter 4 - New Romantics

I set my phone down on the coffee table and got up and went down the hall to my bedroom. I opened my walk-in closet doors and my shoulders slumped as I examined all of the choices.

I went straight to the dresses and there had to be a hundred. I'd worn them once or twice to different meetings, events, and readings, and never touched them again. And I hated that with a passion, but when it came to my own affairs, my agent was nuts about what I wore. I could never be photographed wearing something I'd worn before; that was too much like being poor. And everyone knew I wasn't poor anymore. Those were her exact words. I'd rolled my eyes at the time, and I rolled them every time I thought about it since then.

I started grabbing dresses that I'd gotten compliments on first, then the ones that I really liked. Almost twenty hung from each hand when I went into my bedroom and tossed them all on the bed. I grabbed the flashiest ones and pulled them out and set them aside into the 'No' pile. I didn't want to garner that much attention.

After ten minutes of staring at the different colors, patterns, and lengths, I sat down on the edge of the bed with my back towards the dresses and laid my head in my hands. I'm no good at this.

In that perfect moment, Sandra stepped into my doorway and said, "Whatcha' doing?"

I glanced up. She recognized the anxiety-stricken expression on my face and sat beside me.

"What's with all the dresses? Having an 'everything must go' sale?"

"No... I need a dress."

"Ooh, for what? A date with Alex?" Her tone was much different now. More teasing then disapproving.

"Yes."

"What are you guys doing?" She stood up and her eyes scanned over the dresses. Her head turned. "Because you've got a lot going on here." She gestured to the bed.

I sighed. "I'm not sure yet. He hasn't told me."

"Okay, so is it warm where you're going?" She asked and I shook my head and shrugged, I had no idea what to expect. At all. "Best to assume it's not in this weather, so I'd go for something long."

She sifted through dress after dress, throwing ninety-nine percent of them into the 'no' pile. All that was left was one dress, a long black dress with a slit up to the thigh.

"You consider that warm?" I asked, my eyebrows raised as she held it up for me to judge.

She shrugged her shoulders, "It's the closest we've got. Maybe with the right pair of tights..."

I sighed as I fell back into the bed. "I'm never going to be able to find something that'll fit everything it has to be."

"Sure you can, I'm here." She laid beside me and grabbed onto my hand. "I'm your best friend. And I'm going to help you."

My eyebrows scrunched together, "How?"

"I don't know that yet, but you have a lot of money and we could pay someone to help us."

"I'm not hiring a stylist for a date."

"Not a stylist," she struggled as she tried to come up with an alternate word. "A directionist, someone who can point you in the direction of the perfect dress and accessories."

"No."

"Come on, Hannah. Perhaps we are too feeble to do this alone." She chuckled and I forced back a laugh.

I laid still. I wasn't very feminine. I wasn't outgoing. I was a recluse. Had I made a stupid decision by letting someone so drastically different from me back into my life? What was I thinking? Oh, right, I wasn't thinking. Or if I was, it wasn't with my brain—stupid vagina. As much as I knew I was overreacting, I couldn't help but panic. Could we really make this work?

Suddenly, we both heard my intercom go off and Sandra instructed me to stay there while she went to answer it. Even from my bedroom, I could hear her in the living room.

"Of course, this is Hannah. Why wouldn't it be?" I could picture the evil grin on her face as she continued. "Sure, send it up."

She returned to the bedroom and smiled playfully.

"What was that about?" I asked as she pulled me to my feet.

"Apparently, there was a package dropped off for you in the lobby. They wanted to know if you wanted it brought up."

"I didn't order anything."

"Well, then someone probably sent you a gift." She smirked and went back out into the hallway and I got up and followed after her. There was a knock at the door as we walked up to it and she opened it quickly. Liam, the bellboy I'd talked to many times, seemed startled to see Sandra open the door, and he was briefly rendered wordless by her beauty. He stared for a moment, and I'm pretty sure I'd even seen a little drool slip from his mouth before he shook his head and turned to me.

"Hannah, here you go," he said as he handed the rather large, beautiful light blue box to me.