Chapter 29

Liz, Len, and I left Saturday mid-morning to go costume shopping. We’d grabbed our windbreakers, which turned out to be a good thing because there was a stiff breeze as we exited the dorm. The walk down the hill to the parking lot was actually chilly and Liz cranked up the heater once we climbed into her car.

“I appreciate this, guys,” she said.

“Not a problem,” I said. It really wasn’t. I wasn’t going to buy a costume, and I was pretty sure Len wasn’t either, but Liz insisted she needed our opinions. In fact, she’d insisted more than once.

“So,” I asked as she eased the car onto the street, “where are we going?”

“Cinderella City.”

“What?” I asked.

“It’s a mall,” she said. “I have no idea why it’s called that.”

“Where is it?”

“South side of Denver.”

“Really?” I snorted. That was at least an hour drive. Each way. “Why there?”

“Because I know it’s got what I want.”

I grimaced, but then did my best to wipe my face clean before Liz noticed. Surely there were costume shops closer. As it was, we were going to arrive right before lunch, which meant we’d have to eat there. My cash was way too low for that, but I didn’t dare complain to Liz. Not unless I wanted to piss off my driver to Fort Collins.

“So what do you want?” Len asked.

“Scheherazade,” she said. “You know, a Thousand and One Nights?”

“That’s sexy,” he quipped.

“Duh. That’s the point.”

I wondered how hard that costume could be. Surely a store in Boulder would have one?

When we arrived, my annoyance deepened. The mall had all the usual stuff, and I could name a dozen stores that we also had at the Crossroads Mall in Boulder. It even had a Victoria’s Secret, and you weren’t a mall these days without a Victoria’s Secret.

But then Liz led us to a lower level with a maze of little local shops. Several of them reminded me a bit of a Middle-Eastern bazaar, with wide open fronts and tables displaying their wares instead of doors. She worked her way through the various stores to the far side and a bigger shop. Well, relatively bigger. The place was maybe the size of a classroom instead of simply a stall.

I glanced up. The sign said “Fine Theatrical Costumes.”

Well, okay then.

The proprietor, a short, older Middle Eastern woman, greeted us as soon as we walked in. Liz told her what she wanted and she quickly led us over to a far corner.

I was really impressed. The shop was full but not cramped. Tall clothing racks broke it up into little mini sections that made it look like its own warren of cubicles, but you could still see across the tops of the racks to the rest of the store. Meanwhile, the clothes were made from silk, linen, and satin. I didn’t see anything made of plastic or thin cotton. Then I realized all the price tags were tucked inside the garments, which just added to the sense of elegance.

Len and I strolled over to where the clerk and Liz were already looking at costumes. She asked our opinions about a couple before picking something she wanted to try on. Then we trailed behind her and the clerk as they re-crossed the store to the curtained cubicle that served as a dressing room. Once she’d ducked in, Len and I looked around again.

“This is nice,” he said.

“Yeah. Expensive, though.”

He snorted. “Yeah.”

We fell silent for a moment as we both continued to check out the store. I sighed. Yeah, these were really nice costumes.

“What?” he said.

“Huh?”

“You looked like you were about to say something.”

I shook my head. “Just ... hoping Joey has something nice.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Same here with my dad.”

“Yeah...” I really wondered what Joey had.

As I was musing about that, a couple came into the shop. He was almost the spitting image of Tom Selleck with the curly hair and mustache. He looked a little older than Selleck, though, with flecks of gray and lines near his eyes.

The woman—wow. She could’ve been Rebecca De Mornay with bigger boobs tucked into a button-up man’s shirt. Clearly in her twenties with long blonde hair, her only visible flaw was her eyes were too far apart, which made her look vacuous instead of cunning. But still ... even Len was trying not to stare.

They approached the proprietor who was hovering near the changing cubicle.

“Excuse me,” the man said to the proprietor in a deep tenor voice, “we’re looking for a saloon girl costume. Like Miss Kitty.”

“Right this way.”

The cowboy costumes weren’t too far from the dressing room so Len and I watched them walk over. He glanced our way once or twice and seemed to be sizing us up but then largely ignored us. I guessed he was used to guys staring at his girlfriend.

Because—wow. Okay, I definitely had a type. Big-breasted blondes. If Lori looked as good as this woman in ten years, I was going to be in heaven.

Then the dressing cubicle curtains parted and Liz stepped out. She wore slinky, silky harem pants that were tight at her ankles and waist but billowed in between. Her midriff was bare, as were her shoulders, but her top had puffy sleeves. The entire outfit was in shades of blue that truly did make her look like a princess.

“What do you think?” she asked as she slowly twirled.

I began to wonder if I had a second type—slim Asians in slinky clothes.

“Uh...,” I said.

Liz smirked at me.

“It’s good.” Len crossed his arms. “But I’m not sure it’s quite right.”

“I like the pants.” Liz stuck out one leg and wiggled her bare foot. “They fit well.”

“Those are nice.”

“Okay,” she said. “Let me get a different top.”

Then she looked up and froze. “Oh. God,” she murmured.

She’d seen the beautiful couple.

“Yeah,” Len said quietly.

Liz let out a long breath. Then she shook herself. “All right. Next outfit.” She gestured for us to follow her as she headed back to the Middle-Eastern costumes. The whole time, she kept glancing back at the other couple. When we reached the section, she shook herself and then bent her head over a rack of midriff-baring tops.

I tried to pay attention to the ones she was setting aside, but my eyes kept drifting back to the blonde. Finally, they took a couple of outfits and headed to the changing cubicle.

“Damn,” Liz said.

“What?” Len asked.

She was holding a black gauzy top up and frowning. “There’s only one changing room.”

I glanced around the shop and frowned in agreement. There just wasn’t enough space for another, among all the racks of clothes.

“Fine,” Liz said. “Turn your backs.”

“Uh...” I began.

“Okay,” Len said. “We’ll block the view, too.”

I realized what he meant. If we stood near one of the mirrored pillars, no one would be able to see Liz behind us. I moved by his side and we shared an amused smile. A moment later, I heard the rustle of clothes behind me.