“Can you find her something?” she asks the saleswoman. “She needs a dress for a black-tie dinner. My brother-in-law would like to fuck her, so he’s paying.” She laughs at her own joke as the other woman and I exchange uncomfortable looks. The statement isn’t just insulting, it’s ridiculous. She’s known Lander for years now, so she should know that when Lander wants to sleep with a woman, all he has to give her is an invitation.

“No more than fifteen hundred, and that includes the shoes and any other accessories,” Jessica continues, now leaning on the counter for support.

“Of course.” The saleswoman turns to me. “Do you have a favorite designer?”

Jessica laughs again. “How odd that you would think she knows a thing about designers. Well, maybe she knows Carolina Herrera. She’s a Mexican too, isn’t she? Anyway, just find her something decent.” She looks around the room. “Is there somewhere I can sit? I’m feeling a bit dizzy.”

I raise my eyebrows in mild surprise as Jessica is led to a small love seat placed strategically by the restrooms. Jessica’s so rarely sober I had sort of assumed that dizzy was her new normal. Then again, I probably shouldn’t complain. My best hope is that she gets so wasted that she doesn’t remember our conversation at brunch. Hell, maybe she won’t even remember that she was with me today. Still, I’d prefer not to leave her now. If she does end up remembering, I’m going to have a lot of making up to do.

“Shall I stay with you?” I ask, but Jessica shoots me a look so venomous I actually take a step back.

“I think we should look at Nicole Miller and Badgley Mischka first,” the saleswoman says, tacitly leading me toward the escalator. “They have many lovely dresses within your price range.”

I smile and nod, trying to quell my nerves. I’ll just buy any ole dress and get back to Jessica. Surely it won’t take too long. It’s not like it needs to be perfect.

But it’ll be nice, having Lander see me in a formal dress. I’m always dressed so casually with him. Will my wearing a floor-length gown cause him to see me differently? Will he tell me I’m lovely as he escorts me through the crowd?

I give my head a little shake. These are useless thoughts. I can’t indulge in them.

“I’m Tanya, by the way,” the saleswoman says, her posture regally straight as she demurely clasps her hands in front of her.

“I’m Bell,” I say as we begin our ascent.

“Oh, I love that name!” she replies. “I . . . um . . .” She turns her head to make sure no one else is in hearing distance. “Will your friend be okay?”