long enough so you don't look like an escapee from the
Ally McBeal
set, but short enough to show off your legs. You have really terrific legs. And the color is awesome. Brings out your eyes, puts some color in your cheeks, even brightens up your hair. Which we'll get to in a minute. Now, the jacket… wrist-length sleeves, but not too much padding in the shoulders, so you don't look like you've OD'd on
I Love the 80's
. The cut in the front really doesn't show much skin. See, you could wear this under an open—
open
—lab coat and look like a million bucks, and still be the boss, and show everybody how gorgeous you are at the same time."
She tried to pull away. "Oh, Jonas, you're sweet, but I'm not—"
"That is a gorgeous forty-year-old woman in there," he said, not letting go of her arm, and pointing to the mirror with his other hand. "Sexy and smart and The Boss. I mean, what could possibly be hotter than that?"
"Forty-five." She added, a little bitterly, "As my ex never failed to remind me, I'm never going to see thirty again."
"Fuck your ex. I think this is the one. We should get this one. And a matching bra."
Dr. Barb stared at herself for a long minute. "Well. The color
is
nice."
"The color is fucking phenomenal, I'm telling you, it brings out all your natural color, brightens up your—oh, right. Your hair."
She clutched her braid and tried to back away. "Never mind my hair."
"Come on, Dr. Barb. All I'm asking is that you cut two feet off of it."
"No!"
"But it would look
so
much better if it wasn't dragging your whole face down. I'm thinking layers around your face, and shoulder length. And," he added slyly, " everybody could still read your name on the coat."
"No, Jonas. No. Not the hair."
"Yes, the hair, listen, trust me. I'm an impartial observer. Besides, you think I do this for every woman?"
"Certainly you've never done it for Dr. Bimm ," she said slyly, and he laughed. She looked at the mirror, and it was almost like his laughing reflection helped her make up her mind. "All right. I'll take it. But when the board fires me for dressing like a slut, I'm moving in with you."
"Done," he said fervently. "Okay, hurry up. We've got time to hit the lingerie counter and then it'll be lunch time."
"
Lunch
time?" Dr. Barb practically shrieked, looking at her watch. "Oh, Lord! I should have been back—"
"Dr. Barb, what in the world is the use of being The Boss if you can't fuck off for a Saturday? I mean, a
Saturday
. Come on."
"You are very bad for me, Jonas," she scolded, stepping into the dressing room and (rats!) closing the door. "You are a bad, bad boy."
He leaned against the wall so he wouldn't fall down. God, he loved the older teacher type thing she had going, but when she
scolded
him! He hoped to God she didn't notice the raging boner lurking in his boxers.
"I never even let Phillip pick out my clothes," she said from the other side of the door, and laughed. "I can't imagine what he'd think of this."
"He'd think 'when did I turn into the world's biggest dumb shit?' is what he'd think."
She laughed and he heard the sound of rustling clothing. He squashed the urge to mash his ear against the door and imagine what she was putting on. Or taking off. "Considering the fact that you never had the pleasure of meeting him, you certainly have strong opinions about him!"
"He's a dumbass . Anybody who'd let you go isn't worth a nanosecond of my time. Or yours."
"Oh, Jonas," she sighed. There was more of that tantalizing rustling. "You're so very good for my ego!"
Chapter Twenty-three
" Dr.Bimm is lucky to have a friend like you," Dr. Barb was saying over arctic char half an hour later. They were at the Legal's right by the NEA, within sight of the building in her charge. As long as she was sitting where she could see tourists weren't stampeding out, or the building wasn't collapsing in flames, she was almost relaxed. "It was so sweet of you to take me shopping. Especially when you were the
Ally McBeal
set, but short enough to show off your legs. You have really terrific legs. And the color is awesome. Brings out your eyes, puts some color in your cheeks, even brightens up your hair. Which we'll get to in a minute. Now, the jacket… wrist-length sleeves, but not too much padding in the shoulders, so you don't look like you've OD'd on
I Love the 80's
. The cut in the front really doesn't show much skin. See, you could wear this under an open—
open
—lab coat and look like a million bucks, and still be the boss, and show everybody how gorgeous you are at the same time."
She tried to pull away. "Oh, Jonas, you're sweet, but I'm not—"
"That is a gorgeous forty-year-old woman in there," he said, not letting go of her arm, and pointing to the mirror with his other hand. "Sexy and smart and The Boss. I mean, what could possibly be hotter than that?"
"Forty-five." She added, a little bitterly, "As my ex never failed to remind me, I'm never going to see thirty again."
"Fuck your ex. I think this is the one. We should get this one. And a matching bra."
Dr. Barb stared at herself for a long minute. "Well. The color
is
nice."
"The color is fucking phenomenal, I'm telling you, it brings out all your natural color, brightens up your—oh, right. Your hair."
She clutched her braid and tried to back away. "Never mind my hair."
"Come on, Dr. Barb. All I'm asking is that you cut two feet off of it."
"No!"
"But it would look
so
much better if it wasn't dragging your whole face down. I'm thinking layers around your face, and shoulder length. And," he added slyly, " everybody could still read your name on the coat."
"No, Jonas. No. Not the hair."
"Yes, the hair, listen, trust me. I'm an impartial observer. Besides, you think I do this for every woman?"
"Certainly you've never done it for Dr. Bimm ," she said slyly, and he laughed. She looked at the mirror, and it was almost like his laughing reflection helped her make up her mind. "All right. I'll take it. But when the board fires me for dressing like a slut, I'm moving in with you."
"Done," he said fervently. "Okay, hurry up. We've got time to hit the lingerie counter and then it'll be lunch time."
"
Lunch
time?" Dr. Barb practically shrieked, looking at her watch. "Oh, Lord! I should have been back—"
"Dr. Barb, what in the world is the use of being The Boss if you can't fuck off for a Saturday? I mean, a
Saturday
. Come on."
"You are very bad for me, Jonas," she scolded, stepping into the dressing room and (rats!) closing the door. "You are a bad, bad boy."
He leaned against the wall so he wouldn't fall down. God, he loved the older teacher type thing she had going, but when she
scolded
him! He hoped to God she didn't notice the raging boner lurking in his boxers.
"I never even let Phillip pick out my clothes," she said from the other side of the door, and laughed. "I can't imagine what he'd think of this."
"He'd think 'when did I turn into the world's biggest dumb shit?' is what he'd think."
She laughed and he heard the sound of rustling clothing. He squashed the urge to mash his ear against the door and imagine what she was putting on. Or taking off. "Considering the fact that you never had the pleasure of meeting him, you certainly have strong opinions about him!"
"He's a dumbass . Anybody who'd let you go isn't worth a nanosecond of my time. Or yours."
"Oh, Jonas," she sighed. There was more of that tantalizing rustling. "You're so very good for my ego!"
Chapter Twenty-three
" Dr.Bimm is lucky to have a friend like you," Dr. Barb was saying over arctic char half an hour later. They were at the Legal's right by the NEA, within sight of the building in her charge. As long as she was sitting where she could see tourists weren't stampeding out, or the building wasn't collapsing in flames, she was almost relaxed. "It was so sweet of you to take me shopping. Especially when you were the
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