“Thank God you’re here!” My brother Pablo looks at me like I’m the cure to high cholesterol and blocked arteries as I step into his apartment.
“Believe me, you aren’t the only one thanking God when I show up.” I lay down the huge collection of rather heavy glossy bags hanging from my arms on his dining table.
It’s big enough for six, but everything in this home is too much for a bachelor, and none of it was a deliberate choice on his part. When he first moved into this place at the beginning of his residency, he bought whatever was on sale and first to pop up on the furniture store websites.
Now he’s a board-certified pediatric cardiologist at UCLA, but he’s too busy to redecorate or update his closet to ensure he looks like an actual doctor. But I still love him, and it isn’t just because he’s my brother. He’s got a big heart, and kind brown eyes that show nothing but compassion and understanding for his young patients. If my childhood doctors had been half as nice as Pablo, I wouldn’t have worried about going to see them so much.
“Can you bring them with you, please?” I say, rubbing the red marks the bag straps left on my arms. Normally, I’d have had the garments delivered, but this is an emergency. Very time-sensitive.
“Yeah, of course. Your arms okay?”
“They’re fine. Won’t even notice after a while.” I just need the marks gone for the party I’m going to attend later.
He grabs the bags and lets out a breath. “My God, what are these made of? Lead?”
“Just a little of everything. I don’t know what’s in your closet, although I can guess.”
“Supergirl probably wears these to protect herself from Kryptonite poisoning,” he grumbles. But he picks them up and follows.
I move to his bedroom, which is sparse—just a king-sized bed and a dresser—and quickly examine his wardrobe. Work clothes: button-down shirts and Dockers. Casual stuff: cotton T-shirts and shorts. Some ties. One makes me pause, and I pull it out. It’s Daffy Duck on a field of yellow and orange.
“Really?” I hold it in front of him like a strip of shame. “Looney Tunes?”
“The kids love it,” he says.
“Yeah, well, a woman who’s old enough to date won’t. Especially if you wear it to a restaurant like Virgo. And especially not on a first date!”
“Which is why you’re here. You’re the fashion expert.”
True enough. I haven’t earned a fancy medical degree like Pablo. Actually, I don’t have a degree of any type—the only one in my family not to have one—but I’ve still managed to create a successful career.
I shift into job mode. “Tell me what kind of impression you want this woman to have.”
“Fun. Nice.” He thinks for a moment. “Sweet.”
“That works. But you also want to look successful, right?”
“You going to cover me in Gucci?”
I laugh. “No, but every man should have a pair of Italian loafers in his closet.” I dig into one of the bags and pull out a pair of Pradas. “These have your name on them. But try them on, and if you don’t like them, you don’t have to keep them.” But I know he’ll love them because they’re classic and comfortable. Except for the ridiculous ties, he’s pretty conservative when it comes to clothes. Flamboyance makes him uncomfortable. He thinks his accomplishments make him stand out, not his outfits.
Pablo sticks out his lower lip and considers. “They look nice enough.” He takes them from me and puts them on. Walks around a bit. “And comfortable, at least so far. Don’t know how they’d feel after a shift.”
“They’ll just get better as you break them in. And I also have a pair of Guccis for you, because I’m nice like that.” Feeling like a fairy godmother to my Cinderfeller brother, I hand him a silk dress shirt in pale cream, a dark blue sports jacket, also silk, and matching slacks. “Classy and simple. No tie. Leave the top two buttons undone. Keep your jewelry to one solid ring or nothing at all. No cartoon characters. Those can come later when she knows you well enough to not run screaming in the other direction.”
“Thank you,” he says sincerely.
“You’re welcome. Now you know she won’t ding you for clothes.” And that makes me happy and proud. Pablo’s a great guy. He’s smart, loving and protective—really, a ten out of ten. He just needs a little help so this date of his will have a chance