of black cat-eye sunglasses resting on the console, made sure they were clean, and placed them on her head.
She put the car into drive and wove her way through the parking garage at far too high a speed. Bright sunshine caressed my face when we got out onto the street, and I squinted at the change in light.
“There’s a pair of spare sunglasses in the glove box,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said gratefully.
They were a little big for my face, but I didn’t care. She pressed a button and a radio station playing jazz filtered through the speakers. I reached over and lowered the volume so we could talk.
“You’re doing really well, Tiff. Aren’t you?”
“I do okay,” she averred.
“I’ve been hiding away, and you’ve been buying cars and sending out for breakfasts…”
“I got a promotion. I want to enjoy it.” She turned up the music so we couldn’t talk anymore.
What the hell wasn’t she telling me?
I’d bared my soul to her and come to her for help, but clearly, it wasn’t a two-way street. It made me embarrassed that I’d been honest with her and she wouldn’t do the same.
The rest of the drive was silent and charged with tension. Finally, she turned into the department store parking lot. Tiffany cut the wheel and revved the engine loudly before parking the car directly in front of the Folson’s store entrance in the closest spot she could find, surrounded by other cars.
“Why didn’t you park farther away? Aren’t you afraid the car is going to get dinged?” I asked, as I grabbed my purse and opened my door to get out.
There was a whistle from a group of guys, followed by, “Sweet ride!”
Tiffany tilted her sunglasses down on her nose and then looked at me and said, “That is why I parked near the front.”
When we arrived at the entrance to Folson’s, a young man darted in front of her and held the door open, gazing at her with open worship. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gave her a long, lingering look.
Tiffany smiled and blew him a kiss, and despite my uneasiness, I grinned in amusement.
We passed both the men’s and women’s sections and kept going until we found the back of the store, a secluded area with a small, clean desk. A female attendant with her hair pulled into a top bun watched as we approached. Her lips formed into a polite smile.
“Hello, how may I help you?” she asked.
“My name is Tiffany Bristol and I have a dress fitting at 11:45.”
The woman typed a few keys and then nodded. “Excellent. Would you follow me to the dressing room? I’ll have the gown brought to you.”
“Thank you,” Tiffany said.
I marveled at the expensive designer gowns on display and had to stop from running my hands over the gorgeous fabrics. The attendant showed us into a room with three mirrors in a semicircle around a small, elegant platform.
“May I get you something to drink?” the attendant asked.
“Two glasses of champagne, please,” Tiffany answered, as she began removing her heels.
The attendant nodded. “Deidre will be fitting your dress. Please don’t hesitate to push the buzzer if you need anything.”
The woman inclined her head and then shut the door. I looked back to Tiffany, who was watching me with an amused expression.
“Champagne?”
“You need it. You’re wound tighter than a spring.”
“No disagreement there.” I looked at the dressing room door. “I’ve never seen that kind of service before.”
“I love being waited on. I love people knowing I have money when I walk into places.” She paused. “I’ve gained so much from my time at The Rex. Confidence. Financial freedom…purpose. They’ve been good to me.”
“How did you get your job at The Rex?”
“You mean, what made a luxurious hotel take a chance on a high school graduate from a poor background?”
“I wouldn’t have phrased it that way.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.” She shrugged. “I’m not embarrassed about how I grew up. The Rex…they see potential. They’re willing to take chances. Even though they want the best, and demand the best, if they see someone they can mold into an ideal Rex employee, they’ll do it. That’s why they’re different than any of their competitors. They appreciate people who are willing to work hard.”
I took a seat in the chair that rested in the corner of the private dressing room. “It sounds like you found your dream job, Tiff. I’m happy for you.”
Smiling, Tiffany slithered out of her dress and hung it up on a hanger.