Accidentally His: The Girl Who Trespassed

ine'

-

private bank. No sign. No window display. Just gleaming steel and

. Maybe longer. Thumb poised over the bu

e. Her heels click against the pavement in perfect rhythm, movi

eater. Perfect for blending in with every

ust feels cheap. My oversized sweater has a loose t

I barely brushed this morning. Hazel eyes too wide. Skin

my messenger bag. Albert's voice surfaces with

the door opens. I nev

n black, hair pulled back so precisely it looks architectural. When h

and deliberate, the way someone examines something broken

ce. Jus

arter. I have

e gestures inside with manicure

g. Dresses hang on the walls. Not a single price tag visible.

floor. The air carries a faint smell o

Just walks deeper into the

alanced on a silver tray. The glass feels dainty, breakable.

it. My throat is a

ers. An assistant appears with a tape measure and a

requires* raises t

really expl

g." Colette gestures toward a platform in the center of the room, three mirrors su

ter. "

ric. I need to see what we have." She t

hum

ough. The changing room is there." She po

way, clutch

at home. Plush carpet. Soft lighting. A vel

n the full-length mirro

ire I barely know. Now I'm about to parade around in my

ater. Unbutton my jeans. They pool at my feet with t

e underwear matches only because I did laundr

across my shoulders. A body that works fine for

fore I can ch

n't shift. She points to

flection from every angle. Three versi

, inseam, arms, shoulders. Colette watches, callin

around me. "The shoulders nee

traight. "I'm sta

ess between my shoulder blades. Not gentle. "H

ine is fine, tha

ders have been up around my ears

They discuss my proportions in French, and I catch

tand makes heat

ut needs proper care. The postu

ite them when I'm anxious. Cuticles I never both

my clothes

eaches out and touches it. Her finger

es

he draws my hair back from

myself be measured a

oung. Fresh. We enhance. We do not reconstruct."

s a long table. Silks. Satins. Materials I don't have n

, evaluates, discards, doesn't b

a midnight blue swatch and hold

hazel eyes. Green they don't usual

another event. The cream." She considers

dresses am

All must be perfect. All m

t st

, really looks, for the first time. "Mr. Rossi has many women who want to be seen

opens in my che

fore I can finish. "You do not. And that is

iment. They don't. They feel like

esn't ask my opinion. Just selects pie

ery one is art. Every

" Colette observes. "Yo

exactly what t

her eyes. "Y

Comp

?" Her h

everyone in that room will

will

g in me g

t one of them. You don't play by their rules." She steps clos

ow

elevated." She pulls a midnight b

no embellishment, no decoration, nothing that announces itself. Just the kin

ist draws in precisely enough. The skirt falls below my

the m

was there. Makes my posture look like a choice, not survival. I find myself squaring my shoulders

e, I could survi

hind my reflection

e w

shoulder a fraction. "You have something they do not. Au

"Can I really be

Then honest. "That's somet

er answer over when

wn nu

ce. Twice. Pick

s Ca

n tone I recognize from the

Ros

ls me you're

he studies her nails w

the word *

ind that has

ix thirty. D

n't pl

line

e phone. S

out. Her expression gives nothing away. "

eaving before she