Ambition (Private 7)

and sorted them into racks of "yes's" and "no's."

"Oooh! What'd you get?" London asked, grabbing at me and Noelle and our little Barneys bags. "Perfume," I said, as she pulled

out the bottle so she and Vienna could inspect it. Vienna spritzed it and smiled. "Nice. Very bold. Very you." "Thanks," I said, beam-

ing as I reclaimed the expensive bottle. They seemed much less interested in Noelle's face cream. "Have you guys found anything

yet?" "We found something for you !" London announced, shoving a gold minidress at me. "You have to try this one on! With your

legs and butt, the guys will go catatonic when they see you." At the mention of my butt I froze. I saw Noelle check it out in the mirror.

Was she thinking of Dash? Wondering if he'd ever noticed it? Wondering if she'd been wrong about our flirtation being so very inno-

cent? "She's right. You'll look hot in that," Noelle said finally. She slipped out of her coat and glanced at one of the hovering workers.

"Bring me something sophisticated and black. Only black," she told them.

"Right away, Miss Lange," the girl said. Of course she knew Noelle's name. "We have some fabulous new things you'll just adore."

"I'm sure I will," Noelle replied, taking a seat on the velvet chair in the corner. And adore them she did, considering she bought five of

them. After trying on practically everything in the store, London and Vienna went home with two new dresses each. I bought the gold

one, which basically made me look runway-worthy. It put another dent in my cash, but it was totally worth it. Noelle kept urging me

to use the Billings Alumni Fund instead, since the dress was for the fund-raiser, but I didn't feel right about it. Sabine, meanwhile,

snapped up a Marc Jacobs on sale. Even though she came from money like the rest of the Billings Girls, her family had actually taught

her frugality. Go figure.

Afterward, we hit the CO-OP on the top floor, where the Twin Cities stocked up on more pairs of jeans than any two people could

ever wear in a lifetime, and I splurged on a funky BCBG sweater that cost more than my mother brought home each week from her

new job at Target. I could get used to this having-money thing. Although the wad was rapidly dwindling at this point. Perhaps I'd re-

ceive a new stash at Christmas or something. I'd have to hold out hope. By the time we returned to our waiting limo, we were so load-

ed down with bags, they didn't all fit in the trunk. We had to squeeze a few in between us on the seats. I let out a sigh as I dropped

back against the cool leather, feeling tired, but in a very self-satisfied way. "That was a productive weekend," Noelle said as the chauf-

feur closed the door behind us. "Yeah, for American Express!" Vienna joked, shoving some bags into the corner near the partition.

"Back to Easton, then? " I said with a smile, happy to discover that I was actually looking forward to getting back there. This week-

end really had been like a vacation. I felt so much more relaxed and happy. Like everything was going to be all right. That retail ther-

apy always did the trick. "Back to Easton," Noelle replied. "Drew! We're ready!" she shouted at her driver. "Noelle, whip out those

Prada boots you got again so I can drool over them," London said, scooting forward in her seat as Drew edged into traffic. "If you in-

sist," Noelle said smugly, pulling the box out.

London delicately lifted one of the black leather boots from the tissue inside the box and hugged it. "Omigod. I want to marry these

boots!" "I don't know why you didn't just get a pair for yourself," Noelle said. London scowled and handed the coveted boot back. "I