never seen a body that equaled hers. Never. And I’d been up close and personal with my fair share of scantily clad females.
“Right, Nolan?”
I glanced up, guiltily apparently, because Q harrumphed.
“Were you even listening?”
“No, I wasn’t aware I was part of the conversation.”
He started to chew me out further, but something stopped him and he spoke to Gabi. “Let’s start from the top. I’ll hand you the pieces.”
Gabi slipped on the first outfit. A short corduroy skirt in cranberry with navy buttons down the center and a lightweight cashmere turtleneck in dark blue.
“Do I need to put on the tights to get the whole effect?” she asked.
Q shook his head. “Love this on you. Add a patterned scarf and you’d turn heads. But for your interview—”
“It’s much too casual,” I supplied.
“Who picked this one?” she said.
“I did,” Q admitted. “Some women pull off casualwear as if it’s couture. I needed to see where you landed.”
Gabi untucked the sweater and yanked it over her head. “Where am I putting the discard pile?”
“On the chair by Nolan.”
She’d be strolling over and stripping right next to me? Or she’d strip in front of the mirror and then stroll in her bra and panties right next to me? So either way she’d be half-naked right next to me?
I should get a freakin’ Oscar if I could pull off unaffected with Gabriella “The Body” Welk whipping clothes on and off within touching distance as if it was no big deal.
To her credit, she acted as if I wasn’t even there. She removed the outfit, draped it across the back of the chair and moved to stand next to Q.
“You know, since I want to see shoes with these upcoming outfits, maybe you should slip on a pair of nylons.”
“No problem, but I’m not shimmying into the nylons out here because that is the definition of undignified.”
“Then you might as well put on the next outfit in the dressing room.” Q bent down and pulled out a shoe box. “You carry these, I’ll grab the clothes.”
I had to give Gabi credit; she didn’t dawdle. She strolled back out of the dressing room and stopped in front of the three-way mirror.
The expression on her face? Stunned.
“What?” I said. “You don’t like it?”
“No. I love it. That’s why I’m so surprised. I never would’ve picked this for myself.”
I’d chosen these clothes for her. A pair of wide-legged gray pants that skimmed her ankles. The fabric tied at the waist gave the illusion of a skirt until the side slits revealed her legs. Subtle, sexy and sleek, especially paired with the simple cream-colored lace blouse that boasted a keyhole neckline and sheer chiffon sleeves. The ensemble was tied together with black-and-cream-checked cloth pumps, the toes and heels of the shoes highlighted with gray suede.
“Wowza,” Q said. “That one is definitely a contender.”
“I think so too.”
Gabi spun around with the grace of a runway fashion model. “Thank you, Nolan.”
“You’re welcome. I suspected it’d be a fantastic look on you.”
“I’m beginning to suspect our Gabriella will look fantastic in everything,” Q gushed as he grabbed outfit three and thrust it at her.
“How many outfits have you assembled for her?”
“Twelve. More if I can mix and match. Why?”
Because seeing her nearly naked every five minutes is making me hard. “I just wondered if you planned on working through lunch or if we were taking a break.”
“How about we decide after outfit six?”
“Perfect.”
Gabi made a sound and I refocused on her, seeing her totally bewildered by the shirt she had on. “This is weird. Is it supposed to be tucked in? Or left out?”
“Both. That is what we call a half tuck.” Q took the bottom of the shirt hem and tucked it neatly inside her ankle-length pants the color of tobacco. “Voila. Now you’re on trend.” Then he circled her with a critical eye. “Love the windowpane pattern and fit of this blouse, but it might be better to replace the shirt with a sweater in the same pattern.” He snapped his fingers. “If we switched these slim-cut pants to looser velvet pants in the toasted-chestnut color and added fur-lined boots, she’d be ready to rock rinkside interviews.”
“Sounds doable, but I need to see all of it on her, not just a description of it.”
While Q muttered and slid hangers on the rack, Gabi stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that.
I couldn’t look away.
Huskily she whispered, “You like?”
“Very much. But you’re supposed to be taking it off.”