Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 104820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“I love this spot. It’s more curated than other boutiques, and they have some really special things.”
Arch smiled and followed her inside.
An old disco song was playing on the vintage jukebox by the customer service desk, and the sales associate was dressed like a fifties pin-up, with ruby-red lips, figure-hugging black pedal pushers, and a white crop top. She greeted them both and let them know she was there to help. Immediately, Tessa felt the thrill of their impending bargain hunting. She eagerly approached the dress section, ready to rummage through the colorful racks. She also appreciated that the sales associate didn’t make a big deal about Arch. Tessa got the sense the woman didn’t even know who he was. Amazing, but thankfully, true.
Arch followed Tessa as she carefully combed through the offerings for the perfect find. He looked a little bemused, but in good spirits. As for Tessa, she was determined to show him that you didn’t need to pay a small fortune to look good.
“This place is wild,” he said as he drifted to the opposite rack and showed her a men’s white tuxedo. “This looks like something Fred Astaire wore onstage.”
Tessa laughed. “It may well be! You should try it on.”
“The pants are too short,” Arch said, laughing. “But I do like this red top hat.”
She loved how much—and how quickly—he was getting into the fun of thrifting. She’d been a tiny bit nervous that he’d turn up his nose at secondhand clothes, but he placed the hat on his windblown hair and kept it there.
“Somehow, you make it look good,” she told him as she turned back to the dresses. A deep-red silk caught her eye. She held it up and admired the flowing bias cut. It was a classic shape and very understated.
“What do you think? Would it be suitable for Moonrise?”
For a moment, she saw his expression falter. Was the dress too flashy for a caregiver to wear? Should she go with something plainer? But Valentina had told her they’d be sitting at the same table, so she wanted to look as though she fit in.
“It’s gorgeous.” Arch held it up against her. “Maybe a bit long for you, but we can have it tailored.”
He had a good eye—it was at least an inch too long, but she could adjust the hem herself. That must be why he’d looked at her so oddly for a moment. He obviously thought it wouldn’t fit her. Arch took the dress from her arms, and when she protested, saying she could carry her own finds, he insisted he was there as her assistant.
She was surprised by how much she loved having him with her, when previously thrifting had always been her private thing. But it was nice to have an accomplice—and it was a whole new experience to have a second opinion from someone who really knew fashion and to have a special occasion to shop for.
She found two more dresses, both black, one strapless and falling to her knees, the other lace with short wide sleeves and cut very low in the back. Arch gave both the thumbs-up and showed her a vintage Levi’s denim shirt he’d found.
“Perfect for horseback riding,” he said, laughing, the top hat still on. “When I eventually get back on a horse, that is. But I think you should also have some fun.” He took her to the other side of the store and picked out a pink ballerina’s tutu.
“You’re kidding, right?” She laughed.
He shook his head solemnly. “Maybe this is the moment you realize your true destiny is to be a ballerina. You have to be open to all avenues, Tessa,” he said in a mock serious tone.
Even though he was making her laugh, she had to concede he was a very good actor. Even when he was just messing around with her in a thrift shop.
A glint of silver high on a shelf caught her eye. She reached up and retrieved what turned out to be a man’s walking stick with a silver top. It must have been the height of elegance in its day, but its day had passed. The silver was tarnished and the wood scratched. But it was still a beautiful piece.
She handed it to Arch. “More interesting than a cane from the medical supply place,” she said, joking.
But he turned it over in his hands, studying it carefully. “This is exactly what my character would have used in the Western.” He sounded quite excited. “I can get my dad to polish up the wood.”
She loved that he was totally getting into the world of thrift stores. “Absolutely. And the silver will gleam like new with some polish.”
He tested it, walking a few steps, and it took his weight without any problem. In fact, the stick could have been made for him. “It’s perfect,” he said. “I’ll use this at Moonrise. I can’t believe you found it.”