Joanna scanned the items in her wardrobe, trying to decide which of the three little black dresses would be appropriate. The first ended just below her knee, and with long sleeves and a high neckline, it was simple and unpretentious, but convincing herself the frock would be too warm for this time of year, she pushed it aside and examined the next. The second had a bit more snap to it, and while the silk ruffled tiered skirt still ended below her knee, the halter neckline and fitted bodice added more than just a hint of sultry. The third dress, however, didn’t hint at anything.

Ending slightly above the knee, and with a skin-baring v-neckline, the sheath dress was as vampish as it was alluring. With the addition of sleeves of mesh and lace, just enough sophistication was added to the form-fitting garment to tone down the steaminess caused by the off-center front slit, its placement guaranteeing to show an ample amount of the wearer’s thigh every time she took a step.

Joanna pulled her selection from its hanger, and scanning the shoes lined up neatly along the wall, she picked up a pair of black patent leather with three-inch stiletto heels. With their signature red-lacquered soles, the Christian Louboutin pointed toe pumps were absolutely perfect.

***

Addison had returned from her business trip early that morning as scheduled, and heading to the office, she spent her day in anticipation of her night. Reservations had already been made, so Addison coasted through the afternoon believing she had not a care in the world. Unfortunately, when she arrived home, she discovered that wasn’t entirely the case.

She wasn’t surprised not to see Joanna when she walked in the door. Suspecting she was flittering about deciding what to wear, Addison handed off her briefcase to George and ascended the stairs. She disappeared into her room, stripped, and took a quick shower, and after donning a pair of lace knickers and a matching brassiere, Addison moseyed into her wardrobe. She pulled a suit from a hanger, but as she was about to step into the trousers, she stopped. They were traditional and professional, and a staple in any executive’s wardrobe, but remembering Joanna’s comment about ties, Addison’s heart began to race. “Shit,” she said, tossing the trousers aside. “If she doesn’t want you to wear a tie, she probably doesn’t want you to wear a suit either, you idiot!” Addison ran her fingers through her hair, snarling as she stared at the row of the suits, but then she saw the garment bags at the end of the row.

Two held tuxedos and another, a lightweight linen she had purchased in Dubai, but the last had never seen the light of day since it had left the designer’s shop and was delivered to her home almost a year ago.