I look up from the dress I’m studying to find Linda watching me. “You OK, Chrissie?”
I smile. “I’m fine.” I hold up the dress. “What do you think of this?”
Linda nods. “I love Prada. Drew Barrymore wore a dress almost exactly like that to the Oscars.”
I bite my lip and stare. It is completely impractical for Santa Barbara. There is no place at home to wear this. Even at the most posh restaurants, I never wear anything fancier than a sundress and flip flops. This would be too much even for the clubs.
I start to put the dress back and Linda frowns. “You are taking care of yourself, aren’t you?”
I flush scarlet. Are we really about to have a sex talk here in the middle of a New York boutique? Oh my god…Linda is beyond weird.
I smile. I nod. I pull out another dress and pretend to focus on it.
She comes around the display rack. “You need to take care of yourself, always. You can get home, can’t you? I mean, you do have people waiting for you should you need to go home?”
Oh. Is that was this is about? She thinks I’m some girl Alan just snatched from the road and brought home with him.
“Don’t worry, Linda. I can get home. I have a return ticket in my bag.”
“You do?” Linda sounds surprised and relieved. “I just … I just wanted you to know that if you ever needed anything that you can depend on me. You know they don’t think of us girls. Not really. Not ever. And with Manny, you are everything until you are not, and then before you even know what’s hit you, it’s like he doesn’t know your name.”
I know Linda means well, but that warning helped me not in the least. It’s hard enough to try to figure out what this is with Alan without someone telling you its most likely nothing. I’m starting to feel a little sick and very unfocused.
I search through the rack for the Prada.
“You going to try that on?” Linda asks. “I think you’re going to look sensational in it.”
“Um, maybe.” I hand the dress to our shopping associate.
I just want to get away from Linda right now, but unfortunately she follows me to the dressing room. The salesgirl stays, as well. It didn’t occur to me that the salesgirl would stay or that Linda would follow, and, Jeez, I just want a moment alone.
Linda is lying on the couch sipping champagne. Every store. Champagne. She looks at me, since I’ve been here several minutes doing nothing but staring at the dress.
“What’s wrong, Chrissie? You haven’t gone cold on the dress, have you?”
“Can you find me some shoes, Linda? Size seven. I want to see it with shoes.”
Linda springs to her feet and smiles as if thrilled to be of assistance. “I’ll find you just the perfect ones.”
Thankfully, the sales associate leaves with her. I shed my clothes and pull on the dress quickly. Linda gapes when she returns with several pairs of black spike-heeled shoes.
“I love that, Chrissie. You should get that dress.”
The sales girl gushes that it looks like it was made for me, but then that is her job. I look in the mirror. I do look kind of sexy. It is short, it is black, and it is tight, with a straight cut low neck and small sleeves at the bicep. A little red flower design on each sleeve. And the Tiffany bracelet I never take off is just the right jewelry for it.
Prada. I’ve never purchased anything Prada before. Rene will positively die when she sees it. I do like the dress. I do like the shoes.
I smile at Linda. “Fine. The dress. The shoes. Can we go home now, Linda?”
Linda laughs. “Sure, Chrissie. One afternoon and you’re already hot to get back. Not good, Chrissie. Not good. It doesn’t pay to let them know you want them.”
I flush, but Linda is already out of the room to call Colin, and I quickly pull on my clothes and then hand the dress and shoes to the sales associate.
We meet up again at the sales counter. I stare off in horror when I’m told the total. Four thousand dollars? How could it be more than four thousand dollars? Some panties, some bras, one dress, one pair of shoes! Four thousand dollars!
I’ve never spent four thousand dollars in a single day. Everyone around me looks like it’s no big deal. I frown. I don’t have that much cash. I’ll have to charge it. Jeez, what will Jack think when he sees this?
Linda laughs. “Are you OK, Chrissie? You have the funniest look on your face.”
“I wasn’t expecting it to be so much.”
“It’s Prada. Just give her one of Manny’s credit cards. It’s not like he can’t afford it.”
I stare at her. “I have my own credit cards. Why would you think I would have Alan’s?”
Linda studies my face, confused. “You’re living together. I just assumed.”
I can feel the color drain from my face. Is that what Linda thinks? Is that what they all think?
“We’re not living together, Linda,” I say emphatically. “Why would you think we are living together?”
Linda’s eyes round. “Because you are. He moved you in. You go to sleep there. You wake up there. Your things are there. He moved you in, Chrissie. He doesn’t do that just for fun and kicks. It’s not his thing.”
Is it possible that I’ve moved in with Alan without knowing it? Not just in a stay-for-a-while-then-go-home thing, but in a we’re living together type way? No, no, no. Alan is unpredictable and confusing, but he was very clear about my staying in his apartment only while I was in New York. Linda misunderstood.
“I’ve not moved in. I’m not living with him.”
Oh, shit. Why did that have to sound so irrational and why did it have to be so loud? The salesgirl is staring. Linda is staring. Burning color is moving down my cheeks.
Linda shakes her head and reaches for her bag. “Fine. You’re not living with him. It’s nothing to get all pissed off about, Chrissie.”
“I want to go home.”
“Fine. Except you are not living together so I don’t know where to take you.”
In the car on the way back to the apartment, Linda is sulking.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not usually so…snappy.”
She shakes her head. “I get it. I shouldn’t have been rude.” She unbends and smiles sympathetically. “I’m just really glad he has you. I just want us to be friends and for you to know you won’t get any garbage from me.”
I’m not certain what that assurance means, but I smile.
“It’s hard for him, you know,” she adds sadly. “Out on the road, never anyone like him. You’re like him, I think.”
Like him? What does that mean? Alan and I are complete opposites, in all ways, except the one way I still am not comfortable admitting to myself.
“I think I might be in love with him,” I confess, shocking the hell out of myself. I don’t have a clue why I am telling Linda this.
Linda laughs. “It’s obvious that you’re in love with him.”
“It’s almost impossible to get a feel that you really know what’s going on with Alan. And the living together thing. Definitely not something I expected having someone say to me. I’m still trying to figure out what it is we’re doing. He’s good for me. And he’s bad for me. And I don’t know what to do.”
Linda grins. “Yeah, well, welcome to guys. He’s used to having things his own way. And all the other shit, the stuff in the papers, well that’s just what it is, Chrissie, just shit. You know everyone has it wrong about him. The only place he’s ever real is on stage. Off stage is the show. That’s where he doesn’t trust anyone enough to be himself.”
I expel a long, shuddering breath. “I feel that way sometimes when we’re together. Like he’s sometimes putting on an act.”
“No,” Linda counters, “he’s totally himself with you. I’ve known him a long time. I saw it at once. He’s never been that way with a girl, just totally himself from the start, but then what is there usually for him to meet? It’s nearly impossible for him to meet someone worth caring about, and the guy is a giver to the core.”