His Under Contract

Tilly’s laugh is muffled. The door opens and Tilly hands me back what I think is jeans number four, they had a darker deep blue color to them. “Now start with the tee shirts, then we’ll do the blouses.”

It takes a half hour to get through the tops. Even though I like a lot of the tee shirts, I see Amelia’s frown at more than a few. There were about twelve tee shirts but I lose count at the tops. The tops are hard not to like, many of them fit perfectly, although a few are shorter and have a lower neckline than I’m used to. I’m almost overwhelmed by all the colors. Many of them are jewel colors: green, purple, red, and shockingly white. Even though several are too tight to fit past my hips, I’m a little worried Amelia doesn’t consider that a bad thing.

By the time we get to the dresses, I’m tired. “I don’t even wear dresses.” I complain. The door closes in my face.

The first clings, “I can’t reach the zip. I’m sure I wouldn’t want to, even if I could.”

Amelia opens the door and nods. “Yep, take it off and put this on. You’re wearing the wrong size bra.

She hands me a bra, then closes the door. Oh, my god. Can I please just die now? Is nothing sacred? Stomping my foot, I open my mouth to say just that.

“Just put the damned bra on, you big baby.” Amelia’s voice is stern.

Taking off the dress, I toss it over the door. I’m so embarrassed I can’t even look in the mirror as I take off my bra, then slowly put on the new bra I was handed. This bra is different, the catch is between my breasts. A few adjustments, and holy fucking shit, my breasts look different and I’m standing taller with my shoulders back.

I grab a dress I’m sure will fit. It’s loose, with the material giving and soft. Wow, the bra makes a huge difference. The deep blue dress I like and say so as I pass it over the door. I take off the bra and check it. Instead of the 36C I assumed I was, I’m actually a 40D. Also, the coverage over the cup is soft, silky and sheer. I love this bra. I want a dozen more like it.

The dresses only take about twenty minutes. Finally finished, Amelia hands me the jeans I really liked and an emerald colored short sleeved blouse that shimmers along the neckline. Telling me to keep the bra on, she tells me to come to the front when I’m dressed.

Dressed, I follow Amelia out. I’m surprised by the lack of the clothes I tried on. They are nowhere to be seen. “Come along, we have shoes left to get.”

“Amelia, no, the clothes are more than enough. A few pairs of jeans and tops I’m okay with, but no on the shoes.”

Amelia’s hand goes to her hip. “How many pairs of shoes do you have?”

“Enough.”

“How many pairs of shoes do you have?”

Fuck. “Four, okay, I own four.”

“If you don’t come with me, then I’ll pick them out myself. I already know you’re a size seven.”

I’m no longer surprised by Amelia’s lack of a man in her life, as she’s moaned about in the past. “Fine.”

In the shoe section, I have and take a little more control. I don’t do heels, I just don’t. I pick out two pairs of pumps, four pairs of different flats, and two new pairs of sneakers. Amelia is obviously annoyed, except I refuse to give in. The chosen shoes are being carried around by a new sales person. When I’m done, I hand over my credit card. “I promised clothes, not shoes. Thank you for the clothes. I appreciate them. I really do.”

Amelia sighs. “If you say so. Let’s go get your clothes, now. They should be ready to go.”

Going down the escalator, we are met by Tilly and another person. Holy shit, there are six bags filled to the brim. “Amelia!”

“Already paid for, nothing you can do about it. Now, be a good girl and take two bags. I’ll take the others.”

I want to argue but she has already taken her four bags and walks out the door. Giving in, I take the two bags, adding them to the three bags of shoes I’m already carrying. Stowing the bags in the trunk, I get in beside Amelia, then give the driver my address.

The minute I give my address, I begin praying my roommate isn’t home, no such luck. Before we even get down the hall, I can hear my roommate. Then I hear the moans of not one but two men. I stop at the front door, not even pulling out my keys. “You can go. I’ll take it from here. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to see what my roommate is doing in the living room. She has... issues.”

“Are you serious? She’s doing two guys in the living room?”

“Yeah, I think she’s some sort of sex addict. This is a daily thing for her. I have been looking for a new roommate for a while. Now with the better pay I’m going to save up and get a studio instead.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Three months.” I admit.

“That’s crazy. Okay, I’ll let you take everything in.” Amelia backs away.

I’m burning in shame at Amelia hearing everything. I take out my keys and unlock the door. The group barely pauses as I take my bags in, needing three trips. Locking the door of my room, I begin taking out the clothes. Holy crap, she bought five pairs each of the two different jeans that fit well. She gave in and bought six tee shirts with various screen-printing that made them unique. The number of blouses she bought stuns me, twelve in all. I’m shocked she had purchased the same amount of dresses, even though some of them were different colors than I had tried on. Then there is a box at the bottom of one of the sacks, within the box are six other bras like the one I’m wearing, wrapped in tissue paper in a rainbow of colors.