More uncomfortable stirring. Staring out the windows, looking at the floors.
“Her kindness. Her intelligence. The way she accepts everyone regardless of their position.” His gaze scanned the room. “Or their looks.
Damn, am I a lucky man or what?”
No comments. A few nods and murmurs of agreement.
“Have a nice lunch, everyone.” Ryan took his cup and walked out of the kitchen whistling.
He smiled all the way back to his office. Now that was fun.
Bunch of worthless gossips. He made a mental note to have employee evaluations conducted as soon as possible. It was time for a weeding out.
Sometimes it was good to be the king.
Chapter Six
“We’re doing what?” Faith asked.
“Going shopping.” Ryan noted her crossed arms and stubborn stance. This was going to be a battle.
“Why?” she challenged.
“Faith, do we have to argue about this? I thought all women loved to go shopping.” Ryan leaned against the door to their bedroom’s dressing area, completely flabbergasted at his wife’s reluctance to shop.
“This one doesn’t.”
He could have laughed at the way she looked, her lips pressed firmly together and her eyes squinting in stubborn accusation.
“Why not?”
“I don’t need anything.” She’d already dismissed the idea and headed into their bathroom to pull her hair into that god-awful bun she wore.
“So?” He followed, determined to convince her.
“So why go shopping if I don’t need to buy anything?”
Never in his life had he needed to convince a woman to spend his money. Was Faith from another planet?
Time to change tactics.
“I need to buy a few things, and I’d like you to go with me.”
She stopped, her hands tangled in her hair and turned to look at him. “Oh. Okay.”
Truthfully, the last thing in the world Ryan wanted to do on a Saturday was go shopping. But after spending the week mulling over the office gossip, he’d grown more irritated. Every time he thought about how they’d judged Faith based on her looks, he was more determined than ever to show them how wrong they were.
So he decided Faith needed a little change in her attire. Not that she needed to change. But after pondering the staff’s comments, he wondered how much of what they said was a reflection of how she felt about herself.
Did she see herself as unattractive and plain? Did she dress that way deliberately in order to bury her insecurities?
Somewhere underneath that spinster getup was a beautiful butterfly, and Ryan intended to unwrap the cocoon.
This wasn’t at all the shopping trip Faith had imagined. They’d ended up at Saks Fifth Avenue, in the Women’s Department.
“I didn’t know you wore women’s clothes.” She cast him a suspicious glare.
“I didn’t know you hid a sense of humor under all those baggy things you wear.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” she said, adjusting the hips of her loose jeans and pulling the hem of her shirt down past her hips. “I like these clothes.”
“Yes, they look …uh…comfortable, to say the least. However, now that you’re my wife I’d appreciate if you’d indulge me and let me buy you a few things appropriate for Mrs. Ryan McKay.”
She couldn’t very well argue with that. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass Ryan. She let him drag her to the designer boutique.
The place was virtually empty except for two eager saleswomen who promptly gushed over Ryan while directing disapproving looks in Faith’s direction.
“My wife needs a new wardrobe,” he said to the ladies who identified themselves as Margo and Marie.
“Obviously,” Margo replied, looking down her nose at Faith.
And these women made their living in sales?
Margo was in her early forties, her blonde hair swept up into a stylish twist. Marie was a twentyish version of Margo, with moonlit blonde hair and a body that could easily grace the centerfold of most men’s magazines.
“What would you like to see?” Margo asked Ryan, apparently already grabbing a clue as to who held the credit card.
“Everything. Start with the basics and then work your way up.
Business, casual and social, along with accessories.”
Both women’s eyes lit up like they’d just been given a Christmas bonus. They each took hold of one of Faith’s elbows and steered her in the direction of the dressing room. She turned her head to shoot Ryan a pleading look. He smiled and waved, then picked up the remote control to the television in the waiting area. She’d already been forgotten.
In no time at all the women had evaluated her. She felt like she was about to be sold at auction. Margo spoke and Marie took notes.
“Five foot two, thirty-four B, twenty-four inch waist, thirty-five inch hips, thirty-inch inseam. Definitely a size four and petite.”
Four? Petite? Who were they talking about? Surely not her. Bad enough to be standing there in nothing but her panties and bra, let alone being inventoried. Why in the world had she agreed to this?
“The first thing that has to go is that horrid cotton underwear.”
What? This was not an underwear fashion show, and she was as undressed as she was going to get. She had let them poke and measure her, but she was standing firm on this one. The underwear stayed right where it was.
But she’d underestimated their power of persuasion. In the blink of an eye they had convinced her to squeeze into a flimsy, black silk chemise. It was one piece with a push-up bra that, even to Faith’s eyes, gave her cle**age. It clung to her hips and rode high in the back.
“It’s too small.” She looked in the mirror and tried to tug what little fabric there was over her hips. The darn thing clung so tight she couldn’t breathe. She preferred her underwear, like her clothes, to fit more loosely.
“It hugs your body perfectly. Wait until your husband sees you in that.”
Not in a million years.
At last they brought clothes for her to try on over the scandalous lingerie. Every outfit was too small. Faith argued with both women for over ten minutes, steadfastly refusing to put on a single piece of clothing that wasn’t her usual size.
Margo frowned at her. “You’re a petite size four, Mrs. McKay, not three sizes larger.”
“That’s the size I usually buy, and it fits.”