Page 58 of Pure Abandon

“Would you like to try some? Perhaps for the man in your life?” a sales girl calls over to me.

Huh? Go away. Doesn’t she know I’m on the chase?

The pesky sales girl is on a scent-selling mission. “Here. We have these great scent cards.” She takes the fragrance and sprays it onto a rectangular piece of cardstock and fans it out in front of her.

I try to walk away, but she’s shoving the fragrance card in my face. Reluctantly, I take it from her and start to stroll away.

But here it is.

In my hand.

I raise the card to my nose and savor the delicious fragrance.

It’s his damn cologne.

Turning around, I head back to the pesky sales girl and look at the black and gold bottle in her hand. The man wears Tom Ford.

“I’ll take a bottle of that,” I say, pulling my wallet out from my purse. Yes, my own personal Alexander Asher in a bottle.

“There you are!” Gwen pops up from beside me.

“What are you buying?” she asks, scanning the counter. “Oh, cologne for Gabriel. How sweet. Let me smell.” Gwen picks up the tester bottle and sprays it on her arm. She raises her wrist to her nose and takes in that heavenly scent that’s had me going wild all summer.

“This is divine. Smells like an old English gentleman’s club. Very heady. Very male.” Gwen has just described the man more than the fragrance.

“That will be two hundred and fifteen dollars,” the pesky salesgirl chirps.

My jaw falls to the floor. “For two ounces?” Of course Asher would have the most expensive cologne in the whole goddamn store.

“It’s one point seven ounces, but you can’t put a price on this kind of luxury.” Pesky beams.

I hand over my credit card and glance over at my mother.

“Don’t look at me. I just spent four hundred dollars on cashmere!” Gwen saunters off.

With my bottle of Alexander Asher, and mother who now smells like him, we make our way up to the women’s evening gown section.

The gowns are stunning. Row after row, there is one more beautiful than the other. I don’t know where to start, so Gwen grabs several and makes a room for me. I scan the price tags to make sure she’s not going overboard. The prices are fine, but the sizes are all wrong.

“Mom, these are too small,” I hold up the tag in my hand.

“No, Kathryn. Your clothes are too big.” Her eyes look me up and down. “You’ve lost a lot of weight. Trust me. They’ll fit.”

I roll my eyes and head into the dressing room. The first is a pale-pink A-line that—to my surprise—fits. Maybe I have lost weight. I don’t know how. I feel like all I do is eat with Malory.

I open the door to show Gwen the pink dress and she shakes her head in disapproval.

Next I try on a strapless plum satin number. It’s slimming and sophisticated. I love it! Opening the door, I look out for Gwen. “What do you think?” I beam.

Gwen tilts her head to the side and twists her mouth. “Not for you.”

“I like it!”

“Kat, it does nothing for you. It’s too boring. Try on the red one,” she directs.

Fine! I slam the dressing room door like I’m a fourteen-year-old. Gwen lets out a laugh. “You’ll never change!”

The red dress has a two-part neckline that I get my head stuck in twice before finally figuring it out. I’m so aggravated by the time I get it on properly; I automatically hate the dress no matter how it looks.