Free Reinventing Rachel by Alison Strobel Page A

dancing.
    Daphne saw Rachel’s stare and grinned. “I think Marc would be the consolation prize compared to this, don’t you?”
    The saleswoman removed the item from the mannequin and led Daphne to the dressing room, holding the sparkly lingerie like a holy relic. “You have the body to pull this off,” she said, her tone coated in kiss-up. “Let me get you something to try it on with so you get the full impact of a whole outfit.” She enclosed Daphne in the cubicle, then shuffled through a rack of slacks for a moment before choosing a black pair.
    Rachel wandered the store while Daphne changed, feigning interest in cruise wear and overpriced accessories while she mulled over Daphne’s selection. It was unique, it was gorgeous—and it was shockingly expensive. She might be good at her job, but that didn’t mean she was rich. How could she afford to shop the way she did?
    Daphne’s conversation with Marc came back to her. What had he witnessed to make him think Daphne had a problem—and what kind of problem did he think she had?
    Her ruminations were cut short when Daphne swept back the curtain and stepped out into the room like she owned the place. And rightfully so—she was gorgeous. The black slacks were slightly flared and rested snugly on her hips, though Rachel didn’t even notice them until she’d stared at Daphne’s chest for five solid seconds. Rachel had expected her to look like a showgirl on her way to the theater, but she didn’t. She looked glamorous, self-possessed, and unabashedly sexy. Rachel could just picture the commotion she would cause when they went out that night—and was embarrassed to realize she was ever-so-slightly jealous.
    o
     
    Before Rachel was willing to shop any more, she insisted on coffee. They stopped at a small café, where a barista took their order, then returned minutes later with a blended latte for Rachel and an Americano for Daphne. For the first time since she began drinking coffee, Rachel found herself wishing she had something else in her hand—like another one of those yellow submarines. Or maybe another Baileys, which Daphne had gotten her in the casino late last night. But this is definitely better than nothing. Rachel took a long pull at the frosty drink, then sank back in her seat and sighed. “That hits the spot.”
    “You’re such an addict.”
    Rachel grinned, though for the first time the label rubbed her the wrong way.
    They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes until Daphne sat up straight and pointed across the way. “I think I’ve found your dress.”
    Cups drained, they went into the boutique, where Daphne hunted down the dress in Rachel’s size. She held the midnight blue sheath against Rachel and smiled. “Sacré bleu, it’s perfect!”
    Rachel flicked the price tag around. “Sacré bleu is right. That’s one month’s rent right there. Forget it.”
    Daphne sighed and returned it to the rack. “You’ve got to let that go.”
    “What, frugality? That’s not an exclusively religious trait. Besides, I can’t afford to let it go, given what I make. You do want me to pay my share of the utilities, right?”
    She smiled. “Yeah, I suppose so.” She slid hangers along the rack, then pulled out a halter dress. “Ah, we have a contender!” The thin black material was accented with three interweaving lines of crystals that swept down on a wavy diagonal from the neck to the hem. “That is slinky, sexy, and sparkly—the fashion trifecta. Can’t go wrong with that.” She found the price tag and let out an unsophisticated whoop. “Bingo!”
    Rachel conceded with a nod. “And surprisingly, not too over the top—I could actually wear that again. Okay, I’ll try it on.”
    Rachel entered the changing room while Daphne leaned against the wall outside. “Tell me it’s okay for me to wear something like this,” Rachel called out to Daphne after pulling on the dress.
    Daphne chuckled. “It’s totally okay for you to wear