About the only thing the purple building had going for it, at least in my opinion, was that it couldn’t be overlooked.
Then again, it had no signage at all. Presumably if you wanted to shop at Tonic, you knew how to find Tonic.
Normally I wouldn’t want to find Tonic, but according to Tyler we were attending an event that night. And apparently jeans and a T-shirt weren’t going to cut it.
I must have been gaping, because Tyler laughed and took my arm. “Come on,” he said. “I promise you this will be fun.”
I’m not entirely sure “fun” was the word, but the trip to Tonic was definitely educational. Whoever designed the place was clearly as passionate about purple as they were about haute couture. Every wall, every tile, every surface was either white or some shade of purple. I presumed the white was supposed to provide contrast, but there wasn’t nearly enough of it. And though the purple was charming at first, after a while I felt a bit like I was engulfed in a giant bruise.
Bizarre sculptures descended from the ceiling, and the mannequins turned out not to be mannequins at all, but instead were live women who spent the day wearing the designs and standing frozen in place.
I really didn’t see the point.
The one thing I couldn’t argue with was the clothes. Everything shined and swirled and was designed to flatter.
Zelda—the sales associate who materialized the moment we entered the store—led Tyler and me to the evening gown section where she proceeded to show us dress after dress. Each was more fabulous than the one before—and each was summarily rejected by Tyler.
“Not even close to worthy of her. And the color—it can’t clash with the fire of her hair.”
“I have just the thing,” Zelda said, in a thick accent that sounded Eastern European, but was probably fake. Just more window-dressing for the clients. “Arrived today. I go look, yes?”
She was gone only a few moments before returning with a simple dress that somehow managed to put all the fancier ones we’d seen to shame. It was a backless sheath, the front piece held in place by a thin strip of material over one shoulder.
The entire dress, including the skirt, was designed to hug a woman’s curves, but the skirt was slit so that the woman could actually walk.
Best of all, it was the color of the sky on a clear summer day. In other words, it perfectly matched Tyler’s eyes.
“I love it,” I said. “Can I try it on?”
Zelda led me to the back of the store and the dressing room, which was about the size of my Chicago apartment. It had a chaise lounge, a vanity with a mirror, and a full array of toiletries so that the customer could emerge refreshed and primped. There was even a small refrigerator with bottles of Chablis and sparkling water.
I gaped a bit when Tyler joined me in the room. Zelda, however, seemed completely nonplussed. Clearly, she knew who would be paying the bill for today’s excursion.
As soon as she closed the door, I turned to Tyler. “I usually shop at T.J. Maxx. I think this is a step up.”
“Just a bit,” he said, taking a seat on the chaise. “Let’s see how it fits.”
I slipped out of my shoes, then pulled off my T-shirt and wiggled out of my jeans. Clad in only my bra and thong panties, I took the dress off the padded hanger. The material was thin, clingy, and as soft as a cloud.
“Take your bra off,” he said. “It’s backless.”
I did, then inspected the dress for a way in, finally deciding that I was meant to unfasten the single decorative button at the shoulder and step in from the top. The button seemed too minuscule to be up to the task of holding the dress up, but considering how little dress there actually was, I imagined it could probably handle the job.
“Sloane,” Tyler said once I was wearing it, and there was something almost reverent about his voice.
“You like?”
“I like,” he said, making a turning motion with his finger so that I would turn and look in the tri-fold mirror behind me.
When I did, I saw a woman who looked like she should be on a red carpet. I stood up on my toes and the effect was even better. “I’ll need the right shoes,” I said.
“Of course.”
“And this is a problem.” I pointed to the back, where the top band of my panties showed in the deep dip of the back.
Tyler stood. “Take them off.”
“Commando?”