“Well, why would he?” I demanded.

Kristin, sitting cross-legged in my desk chair, tilted her head thoughtfully as she studied the shirt. “I think it’s more like a shirt that says, ‘I’m going to have to end this date early so I can go prepare my Power Point presentation.’”

That sent them into fits of laughter. I was about to protest when I noticed Jill and Angeline going through my closet. “Hey! Maybe you should ask before doing that.”

“All your dresses are too heavy,” said Jill. She pulled out one made of soft, gray cashmere. “I mean, at least this is sleeveless, but it’s still too much for this weather.”

“Half my wardrobe is,” I said. “It’s made for four seasons. I didn’t really have a lot of time to switch to all summer stuff before coming here.”

“See?” exclaimed Angeline triumphantly. “Now you know my problem. I can cut a couple inches off of that, if you want.”

“No!” To my relief, Jill put the dress away. A few moments later, she produced a new find.

“What about this?” She held up a hanger carrying a long white tank top made of light, crinkly material with a scoop neckline.

Kristin glanced at Angeline. “Think you could make the neckline lower?”

“The neckline’s low enough already. And that’s not a shirt you wear on its own,” I protested. “It’s meant to be tucked in under a blazer.”

Julia rose from the chair. She tossed her hair; this was serious business. “No, no… this might work.” She took the shirt from Jill and laid it across the jeans I’d set out. She studied it for a few moments and then returned to my closet—which was apparently free game for everyone. After a quick search, she pulled out a skinny leather belt with a tan snakeskin pattern. “I thought I remembered you wearing this.” She laid the belt over the white shirt and stepped back. After a bit more scrutiny, she gave it a nod of approval. The others crowded in to look.

“Good eye,” said Kristin.

“Hey, I found the shirt,” Jill reminded her.

“I can’t wear the shirt alone,” I said. I hoped my protests covered up my anxiety. Had I really been that off on the yellow shirt? I’d been certain it was date-appropriate. How was I going to survive tonight if I couldn’t even dress right?

“If you want to put a blazer on over it in this weather, be my guest,” said Julia. “But I don’t think you have to worry about it showing too much. This wouldn’t even be worth Mrs. Weathers’s notice.”

“Neither would the yellow blouse,” I pointed out.

They decided my clothing was a done deal and moved on to hair and makeup advice. I drew the line there. I wore makeup every day—very nice, very expensive makeup applied to make the most of my features in a way that made it look as though I didn’t even have makeup on. I wasn’t going to change that natural look, no matter how adamantly Julia swore pink eye shadow would be “hot.”