“Your total is four thousand three hundred fifty-six dollars,” the associate said the next day, folding all the clothes I’d bought for Roxie and placing them in three separate black bags. After I handed her my card, she finished ringing me out and waved me off. “Next time, bring her with you, so we can get her measurements.”
I grabbed the bags and walked out of the store to find Chiara waiting for me at the exit.
“What’d you get the woman who hates you the most?” she asked me with a smirk. She took a peek in the bags and scrunched her nose. “God, you have bad taste. Next time, just give Roxie your black card, and I’ll take her out.”
“You don’t think she’ll like it?”
Chiara arched a brow. “It’s too prissy for her. With all her tattoos and that dyed hair, Roxie is spunky. She stands out.
