Real Women Don't Wear Size 2 (6 page)

“You don’t want the biggest one; that’d be huge. Tell you what, if you insist on waiting until you go home to try it on, I’ll measure you so we get the right size from the get-go.”

“Measure me?” Clarise asked incredulously. “As in stretch a tape measure around and actually log the dimensions?” An image flashed from a recent Discovery Channel show, where two beefy men tried to stretch their arms around a redwood tree and failed to meet in the middle. “You sure that’s really necessary?”

Grinning, Shannon dug her tiny hand into her front pocket—quite a feat, since the pants could’ve been painted on—and withdrew a green tape measure. “Absolutely necessary. If you don’t get the right size, it won’t work.”

“Terrific,” Clarise said, rolling her eyes. “This is just what I need to pump up my ego for the trip.”

“How’s it going?” Jadelle, her eyes as excited as Shannon’s, approached the two of them. She nodded approvingly toward the rack of clothes. “Oh, she’s perfect for those!”

Great. Everyone was in agreement except Clarise, whose uncertainty with the assessment was palpable. “Are you sure? We’re talking about little bitty clothes and a not so little bitty body.”

“Definitely. Come on, Jadelle, help me get her measurements,” Shannon said.

There it went again, that image of the tree.

“Don’t you have some other customers you need to help?” Clarise asked, wondering if there was anyone in the place who wasn’t about to find out how hideously large the Robinson Treasures were. Surely there were some additional salespeople in the back who wanted to gawk at the woman who dared believe she could fit a watermelon through a keyhole.

“Took care of ’em,” Jadelle informed.

Clarise sucked her belly in, then gave up the fight and let it go. Heck, if she was actually going to fork out the money to pay for this stuff, she might as well get something that fit. Preferably while breathing.

“We need a pen and paper,” Shannon said, which Jadelle quickly supplied.

Wonderful. Not only would these two know the full extent of her bounty, but anyone who happened to sneak a peak at their notes would get a belly laugh too. Oh joy.

“Arms out,” Shannon announced.

Clarise closed her eyes and obeyed. She did want new clothes, after all, different from her conservative work wardrobe. Fun clothes. Sexy clothes. And if anyone could help her find them, she’d bet it was the woman currently circling her boobs with a tape measure. Lord, Clarise hoped the thing was long enough to cover the territory.

Chapter 4

C
larise hadn’t anticipated having her body sized up by two overzealous pixies. But here she was, squinting through the equivalent of two elves measuring Santa.

“Wow!” Jadelle exclaimed, forcing Clarise to pry one hesitant eye open. The sassy blonde held up the paper.

Clarise gawked at the dimension, as though staring at it would make it shrink, like she hadn’t tried that before. Staring at it, harnessing it, meditating over it. Didn’t matter, her treasures were determined to “shine” as Granny Gert put it. If they shone any brighter, everyone in the state of Alabama would need blinders.

She shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it, though. Even when I diet, they stay intact. And when I gain weight, guess where it goes?”

“Cool. Don’t guess you’d be willing to share?” Shannon asked, plum-ringed lips grinning.

“You aren’t serious,” Clarise said.

They ignored her statement and moved to her waist. Then, while her gaze darted around the room and she prayed no one else would join this odd little party, they notated the circumference of her caboose. Clarise wanted to die, right here, right now. She closed her eyes and waited, then she forced them open to view the dainty women madly gathering garments from the rack.

“Perfect,” Shannon said. “Oh my goodness, this is incredible. What do you think, Jade?”

“Oh yeah. And just think how this will show off her boobs!” She held up a tube top.

A tube top?
“You’ve
got
to be kidding.” Clarise attempted to wedge her way back into the conversation, which was only fair, since she was the topic of discussion.

“Kidding? No way,” Jadelle said. “We’ve needed someone voluptuous for this line, but we haven’t had anyone built for the part. If we had a decent mannequin, one that wasn’t so sticklike, we could advertise some of these in the window. Don’t guess you’d consider letting us take some photos of you in these clothes, would you?”

Clarise swallowed. Was this happening?
She
was the perfect model for the trendy fashions filling both sets of toned and tanned arms? “I don’t think so.”

“When will you try them on?” Shannon asked.

“Tonight, I guess.”

“You’re going to love them,” Jadelle gushed. “You’ll have to pry the men off with a stick. What are you doing down there, anyway? Just parades, or balls too?”

The room was taking on that tie-dyed spin thing again. Pry men off with a stick? Clarise Robinson? Surely not.

“So?” Jadelle prompted.

“So—what?”

“Parades only, or balls too?” she giddily chirped.

“Just parades, I think. The company is footing the bill, and I haven’t heard anything mentioned about balls.”

“I’ve heard you have to get your invitations to those things years in advance,” Shannon said. “I’ve got an aunt who lives in Indian Rocks Beach. She goes to the parades, but she’s never made it to a ball. Hey, are you doing anything else besides the adult parades? They have kiddie parades too, and then there are the street parties. If you’re doing any of them, you’ll need some more casual clothes too.”

“I don’t think we have an actual agenda,” Clarise said, frowning. She hadn’t heard anything definite about the trip, in fact, other than a group lunch Saturday afternoon when the pirates would invade downtown Tampa and make the mayor surrender the keys to the city. She supposed the remainder of their time would be spent hanging out with the other department heads . . . or, perhaps, having sex. Her frown slid easily into a smile. “I suppose I should be prepared for—anything.”

“Got it,” Shannon said. “Grab a pair of the hourglass jeans, Jadelle.”

“I don’t do jeans. Can’t work this into any of them.” Clarise patted her hips. “But thanks for considering it as a possibility.”

They laughed. Laughed! “You
didn’t
do jeans,” Shannon corrected. “But you’ve never tried a pair of these.”

“What are those?” Clarise asked, eyeing the dark blue denim. Eubanks Elegant Apparel didn’t even carry jeans.

“Hourglass jeans,” Shannon continued. “They’re cut to curve around the woman who has perfect dimensions.”

Clarise flinched. There she went again, using the p-word.

“You logged my dimensions, so you’re bound to know they’re far less than—”

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Jadelle said, propping her garment-clad arms on her hips and shaking her head in obvious disbelief. “You’re what every guy dreams of, that Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield thing that’s so hard to find nowadays with everybody determined to fit in a size two. You’re the real deal, and you need to play it up.”

“Exactly,” Shannon chimed in. “And we’re gonna help ya do it.”

They sounded sincere. Extremely sincere. What if, wonder of wonders, Granny Gert hadn’t been feeding her a load of bull all these years? Were there men who actually liked full figures? Very full figures? And was Ethan Eubanks one of them?

“You’re starting to believe it, aren’t ya?” Shannon said, lifting arched black brows in speculation. “Tell us the truth. You’ve never really given it a try, have you?”

“Well, my boss did talk me into wearing a fitted red dress to the company Christmas party,” Clarise confessed.

“And?” Jadelle asked.

Clarise remembered the way everyone had turned when she entered, gawked at her as though she were from another planet. For a fraction of a second, she thought they were appalled at her curves pushing against the slinky fabric. But then she saw the way Ethan looked at her—then Jake. Had she looked, as Ethan said,
stunning?
And if she had, could she pull it off again?

“Well?” Shannon queried.

“My boss did tell me,” Clarise said.

“Tell you what?” Jadelle asked.

“What’d he say?” Shannon continued, wiggling thin, arched brows.

“He said I looked stunning.”

“There now, you see?” Jadelle said, finishing off the pile of clothes she’d gathered with a hot pink sweater. “There’s a man you should listen to. Obviously, he knows women.”

“Oh yeah, he knows women,” Clarise agreed.

“And he liked what he saw, just like every guy at the Pirate Festival will like what he sees. By the way, most of these will let you show as much, or as little, as you want,” Shannon said, a soft giggle underlying her words.

Clarise couldn’t control her responding blush.

“Shannon, you’re getting too personal. Isn’t she?” Jadelle asked. “Of course, if you wanna tell us whether you plan to really get into the Gasparilla spirit, we’ll never tell.”

“I haven’t made up my mind.” But, if they were telling her the truth, and there were men out there interested in a body like hers, why not show it off a bit? Particularly if Ethan was looking.

“What would you do, Shannon? Shirt on or off?” Jadelle asked.

“Shoot, who’d want to look at these?” Shannon said. She dropped her bounty of clothing in a chair and cupped her perky breasts, pointing prominently beneath her thin top.

“You’re joking,” Clarise accused.

“Hey, not everyone can get as lucky as you,” Shannon countered.

“Lucky? I’d kill to have your tiny figure.” Clarise surveyed her new friend, whose waiflike features reminded her so much of Babette’s miniscule frame. “It’s perfect.”

“Not in my book. I want shape. You should see me in a swimsuit. I’m totally straight. Skinny as a beanpole, that’s what my mama says. I don’t even have an indention at the waist, so I look like a boy, seriously. I have to buy the high-cut bikinis so I can fake having hips, and that is such a pain.”

“I know what you mean,” Jadelle agreed. She placed her things in a second chair. “It’d be really cool to finally see somebody try these on. I wish you’d change your mind, Clarise. Come on. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of wearing these clothes.”

“Ohmigod, me too!” Shannon chimed in. “I mean, can you imagine actually having cleavage, without a water bra?”

“A real jiggle. Lord, I’d kill for that!” Jadelle added.

Clarise gaped. Could these skinny women believe they didn’t have the ideal physique? Moreover, did they actually think that Clarise, curvy as she was, had achieved perfection?

“Can you help me, please? I need these jeans in a two,” one of the cheerleader gang asked as she neared the trio.

“Be right back,” Jadelle said to Clarise, then she disappeared through the racks of clothing.

“You okay?” Shannon asked, her brow ring lifting a notch as her eyes widened in concern.

A size two. Clarise frowned, then turned to Shannon. “Do you really think my figure is appealing to men? I mean, honestly, do you?” She knew she looked good in her work clothes. The picture-perfect model of sophistication. However, at Gasparilla, the clothes would be much more revealing, and if her dreams came true, the clothes would eventually come off. And if they did, would Ethan like what he saw?

Plum-lined lips spread into Shannon’s cheeks. “Definitely. Eubanks may cater to the upscale gang, but we’ve got the sexy market hands down. You just haven’t had the right clothing to maximize your assets. These will take care of that.” She patted her stack.

Clarise looked at the colorful heap with longing. She had always understood the power wielded by phenomenal clothes, but could clothes do all that?

“You want to try them on, don’t ya?”

Heaven help her, she did. She looked around the store, practically vacated, except for the teen scene perusing the stacks of jeans in the back with Jadelle.

“We’ve got a private viewing area, you know,” Shannon tempted.

“How private?”

“Your own dressing room, then a little side space with a wall-to-wall mirror and a platform. Wanna give it a go?”

Best friend or not, Clarise would normally shout a resounding no, but today, the day she was planning a trip to Tampa to fulfill her Ethan Eubanks fantasies, and the day her new friends had made her wonder if she might be semisexy after all . . .

“All right. Why not?”

Shannon clapped her hands together like a kid who’d been granted candy in the checkout line. “Cool!”

“What?” Jadelle asked, hurrying back. “They’re doing fine on their own in the jeans. What’d I miss?”

“She’s going to try them on!” Shannon cheered.

“You go, girl!” Jadelle exclaimed, tweaking Clarise’s arm with a friendly pinch. It hurt, but Clarise managed not to flinch.

“So, ya gonna let us see?” Shannon asked.

Clarise’s chest tightened, throat went dry. Tomorrow, she’d be letting everyone in Tampa see—her clothes and, if she kept her nerve, the Robinson Treasures. Might as well get in a bit of practice around friends. Practice with the clothing part, Clarise silently proclaimed. She might be willing to attempt a flash, but she wasn’t ready to go full frontal, or top frontal, with a couple of pixies. Brand-new best friends or not, that pushed the limit. Tomorrow, she’d show her magnitude to complete strangers, but that was tomorrow. One day at a time.

“Just the two of you,” she instructed, her eyes landing on the teenagers.

“Deal!” they both squealed.

“Only a few things though. I don’t have a lot of time,” Clarise said. In fact, she only had two hours before her fashion-merchandising class started at the college.

“Got it,” Shannon said. “You head on back to the changing area, right through there,” she motioned down a yellow-and-orange hallway, the walls painted as though flames licked them from the floor. “We’ll pick our favorites.”

Before Clarise could second-guess her decision, Jadelle gently, but not too gently, shoved her down the hall. “Oooh, this is gonna be so much fun,” she said, as Clarise made her way to the room. Three of the walls were red; the other mirrored. You’d think the red walls would be more shocking. But of all the colors and hues and textures that had captured her attention since she stepped into the boutique, nothing stunned her more than the image in that mirror.