Jo smoothed her blouse down, knowing full well that it wasn’t going to help the situation in the slightest. Her wardrobe hadn’t been suddenly magically transformed overnight, after all, despite her fervent wishes for something that wasn’t frumpy and dumpy. Not that she was after something sexy either, despite all the delightfully- and suitably-hot motorcycle men wandering around the bar and garage.
No, what she actually wished for was something sleek and form-fitting, but also severe and tailored. An expensive pantsuit in gunmetal gray and perfectly molded to her curves, for example, or a crisp navy blue Chanel dress from the 50’s, back when the cut was unforgivingly classic.
Basically, Jo wished that she had clothes that she could use as a suit of armor. Something that could protect he
