[75] The Professional Opinion of a Broke Man

"So, what do you think?" Naomi pivoted in a complete circle, the fabric of her red dress swirling around her thighs. She stopped with her back to Xavier, glancing over her shoulder with an expectant look. "Does it work?"

Xavier leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His head throbbed with the beginnings of a headache, but he forced himself to focus. One hour into this shopping expedition, and he'd already critiqued twenty-seven outfits across five women. The boutique staff had cycled through various stages of interest in his presence—the women eyeing him with speculative glances, the men with a mixture of envy and pity.

"The color suits you," Xavier said, studying the cut of the dress. "But the seam across the back hits at an awkward spot. Makes your shoulders look tense when they're not."

Naomi twisted, trying to see her own back in the mirror. "You're right. I didn't notice that." She smoothed her hands over the fabric. "What about the length?"