She followed Jo to a staging area of sorts in the back of the store. There were three mirrors with a small platform in front of them. A couch sat off to the side, and dresses were displayed on hangers hooked at various heights on the opposite wall. In front of them stood a tall Black woman, her box braids in a bun on top of her head. She grinned as the other two approached.
“Jo Jones, as I live and breathe,” the woman said, stooping considerably to drop kisses on Jo’s cheeks.
“Victoria,” Jo said with a smile. “How have you been? How was the wedding?”
“Beautiful,” Victoria said. “Everything was perfect, even the gift that was too expensive from someone who has never met my son.”
Jo dipped her head slightly in acknowledgment.
“Enough talk, though,” Victoria said. “I know you’ve got your mind on the clothes.”
Jo didn’t disagree. “This is Emma,” she said.
Victoria shook Emma’s hand, looking her up and down. “Jo said you were a tall brunette, but, girl, you are so much more.”
“Thanks?” Emma said. It came out like a question.
“Can I get you a drink?” Victoria asked. “Champagne? Wine? Water?”
Emma had never been to a clothing store that offered you a drink. She declined. Jo raised the stainless steel tumbler she carried everywhere—Emma knew from refilling it that it was generally either coffee or water.
“Okay then, let’s get to the dresses,” Victoria said. “I have some already picked out, but we don’t have to stick with them if you want something different.”
They all turned to look at the gowns hanging on the wall. Emma swallowed. They were fancier than anything she’d ever worn. There was a black gown that was skimpy on top but princess-poufy on the bottom, a mermaid-style dress as bright red as Jo’s lipstick, an empire-waisted strapless gown the color of café au lait, and a white dress with flowing fabric and huge, multicolored flowers painted along one side.
Jo made a noise of displeasure.
“I specifically said no—” She stopped. “V, the black dress is not the style I requested.”
“Have a little fun, Jo. Let the girl decide for herself.” Victoria turned to Emma. “You like this one, sweetie?”
Emma glanced at Jo, then looked back at the dress. “They’re all beautiful.”
“C’mon, try it on first.” Victoria ushered Emma over toward the dressing room and hung the hanger of the black dress on a metal hook. “You’re gonna look great. Call for me if you need any help getting into it.”
Victoria closed the door behind her.
Emma breathed. She twisted her hair into a quick bun and used the hair tie on her wrist to secure it.
Okay. So. Dress number one. She first put it on without taking her bra off, but that wasn’t going to work. The bra came off. The dress was way more low cut than she was comfortable with. She looked good, sure, but she was basically dressing for a work event, and this was in no way appropriate.
She reached for the zipper to change back into her regular clothes without even showing Jo and Victoria, but there was a knock on the door before she could.
“Need help, honey?” Victoria asked.
“No,” Emma said. “No, I’m—good.”
She couldn’t get away with not showing them, she guessed. She had to squeeze the bottom of the princess-style gown to fit through the dressing room door. Victoria oohed with obvious delight and directed Emma over to the mirrors. Jo, seated on the sofa, looked up from her phone and immediately looked back down. Emma wanted to put a hand over her chest. She felt way too exposed.
“What do you think?” Victoria asked.
Emma looked at herself in the three mirrors Victoria had put her in front of.
“It’s, um, a little low cut for me?” Emma swallowed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with low-cut dresses. They’re not bad or anything. It’s just not my style, you know? I’m just—I’m not—”
Victoria laughed. “Fine, Jo, you were right. Higher necklines only.”
Emma looked at Jo in the mirror. Still looking at her phone, she raised one hand in acknowledgment. “I’m always right, V.”
Victoria rolled her eyes at Emma, still chuckling. “Okay, let’s get you into the next one,” she said, thrusting the red dress at her. “And I just thought of another one you might like—I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared, and Emma headed back into the dressing room. As Emma tried to unzip herself, she caught sight of the price tag on the dress. She opened the dressing room door without thinking.
“Jo,” she hissed, and normally she didn’t call her boss by her first name, but these were desperate times.
The distress must have been obvious in Emma’s tone; Jo was beside her in half a moment.
“What?”
“This dress is five thousand dollars,” Emma whispered. She didn’t want Victoria or any other employee to realize Emma wasn’t rich enough to even try on these clothes.
Jo rolled her eyes. “No wonder Victoria pulled it for you. Trying to up her commission, apparently.”
“I cannot afford this,” Emma said.
“Well, you’re not buying it anyway. And it didn’t suit you.”
It didn’t, but Jo’s words made Emma fidget for some reason. She straightened up, had a few inches on Jo regardless of her boss’s ever-present heels. “Right. It didn’t look good on me.”
Jo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re not usually one to fish for compliments, Ms. Kaplan,” Jo said, though Emma hadn’t meant to fish for anything. “And you’re the one who said it was too low cut.”
But Jo did, too, apparently. Told Victoria beforehand it wasn’t right. Emma was grateful that her boss knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be comfortable at a work thing in a dress like that. Not that she’d be comfortable anywhere in any style of dress that cost five thousand dollars.
“I can’t afford something a quarter of this price,” Emma said. “I know this place is expensive, but surely there’s something cheaper.”
“As I said, you’re not paying for it.” Jo turned and walked back to the sofa, sitting down again and pulling up her phone.
Emma flushed with understanding.
“No, Ms. Jones,” she said. “That’s too much.”
Jo looked up, raising both eyebrows at Emma. “Do you have another way to get an appropriate outfit for the SAG Awards? Please, Emma, I pay you well but not that well. Bryce Dallas Howard may like Neiman Marcus off-the-rack gowns for events but that doesn’t mean I’ll let my assistant be seen in one.”