28
New York, 1953
Ruby stood before a full-length mirror at the Plaza Hotel while the studio’s costume supervisor tried to zip her into a strapless, lemon-yellow dress with a nipped waist.
“Will it close?” Ruby asked, sucking in her stomach.
“It’s good until the bustline,” David said. “And I had this made to your exact measurements from last summer.” Looking askance at her fuller figure, he asked, “How did you blossom so in under a year?”
Ruby shrugged. “I’ve been doing a lot of special exercises.” She’d tried to wean Mariangela before she left, but her décolletage was definitely more impressive than last year.
Arching an eyebrow, David eyed her with a measure of disbelief. “Must be quite the exercises. You were skinny as a whippet last year.”
As he marked the dress with straight pi
