Faces of Fear

“She needs to look hot,” Crystal said.

“And she’s putting it on Dr. Dunn’s account,” Tasha said over her shoulder as she began to sort through clothes, picking up dresses, quickly rejecting them, and dropping them back on the racks.

Mrs. Wright’s expression cleared, and now she was beaming. “Of course,” she said. “You’re that Alison Shaw! Dr. Dunn called this morning and told me to expect you.”

Dawn nudged her in the ribs. “Bingo!” she whispered.

“You’re on his open account,” Mrs. Wright continued, and now Crystal was grinning broadly at the puzzled look on Alison’s face.

“It means there’s no limit!” Crystal said. “Let’s get busy!”

“This!” Tasha declared a moment later, holding up a silvery black piece of fabric on a hanger. “Try this one on, Alison.”

“Mandalay,” Mrs. Wright said, deftly taking the dress from Tasha. “Lovely choice. I’ll open a dressing room for you.”

Alison watched nervously as the other three girls tore through the racks, pulling out one dress after another, holding them up against themselves and each other, rejecting most of them but keeping a few, none of which looked close to her style. They were all much too fancy, too expensive, too…

Too much like Dawn and Tasha and Crystal, and not at all like her.

“Time!” Dawn called out.

Alison relaxed. If they already had to go back to school, she wasn’t even going to have to try on any of the dresses, let alone choose one. But a second later Tasha dashed her hopes.

“Time to hit the dressing room,” she explained, and hurried her toward Mrs. Wright, who Alison could see obviously understood how these lunch-hour shopping sprees worked a lot better than she did.

A single dress hung on the wall in the enormous dressing area Mrs. Wright ushered her into, and her three classmates crowded onto a sofa, waiting.

“Well?” Dawn said. “Let’s see it on you.”

Wishing she could sink through the floor, Alison stripped off her school clothes and slipped into the dress.

It clung to her body like Saran wrap, and flared out into a very short skirt.

The back was cut in a vee that went so far below her waist, she was sure the tops of her buttocks were showing.

And there was far more room in the bodice than she needed, let alone could fill.

“This is a little too dressy,” Alison said, doing her best not to let her embarrassment over the cut of the dress show.

“It’s perfect,” Tasha said, ignoring her words. “Let’s see. Turn around.”

“And hold your hair up,” Crystal added.

Deciding argument would only waste time, Alison pushed her hair onto the top of her head and turned slowly. But she got a good look at herself in one of the mirrors and shook her head. “It’s too old for me.”

“You could use my falsies,” Tasha said, instantly homing in on the biggest problem with the dress.

Mrs. Wright tapped on the dressing room door, then stepped in, her face lighting up when she saw Alison. “That is the one dress on this whole floor that is absolutely perfect for you,” she said. “It shows off what a wonderful, athletic figure you have.”

“See?” Tasha said.

Alison rolled her eyes, certain Mrs. Wright would have said the same thing no matter what she was wearing, as long as it was expensive.

“And you can wear it everywhere, too,” Crystal said. “From now on you’ll be going to lots of parties.”

Alison shook her head and started to peel the dress off.

“She’ll take it,” Dawn said to Mrs. Wright as she glanced at her watch.

Alison frowned.

“You can always return it if you really don’t like it,” Dawn reasoned. “And we don’t have time for anything else right now.”

Mrs. Wright quickly stepped forward to help Alison out of the dress.

“How much is it?” Alison asked as the saleswoman put the dress back on a hanger.

Mrs. Wright consulted the tag. “Only twelve fifty,” she said.

Alison’s eyes widened. “Twelve hundred?”

“It’s an excellent value,” Mrs. Wright replied as she adjusted the dress on its hanger. “Shall I have it sent up to Dr. Dunn’s home?”

“Yes,” Tasha answered for Alison. “And we have to run, or we’ll be late.”

Less than five minutes later Alison was back in Dawn’s car, the receipt for the dress in her purse. What had she been doing, spending over a thousand dollars on a dress?

A beautiful dress, yes. In fact, a dress that was far too beautiful for her — she couldn’t even fill its bodice!

What was going on? How had she let it happen? And why had her whole life turned into something she barely even understood, that was being run by people she barely knew?

But it was going to be all right — she’d just have to learn how to live her new life in her new world, and in the end everything would work out.

RISA SHAW KNEW by the look on Lynette Rudd’s face that there was little chance of selling her the house they had entered no more than a minute earlier, but that had never stopped her yet. “The great thing about this house is that it’s got good bones. You can’t get construction like this anymore, no matter what you’re willing to pay.”

Lynette nodded noncommittally as she gazed at the living room, which was certainly large enough, even if the ceiling was far too low. “Very mid-century,” she said. “Way too much updating, and I don’t even want to think about what the bathrooms are going to look like.”

“Dated,” Marjorie Stern declared, making Risa wish once again that Lynette Rudd hadn’t insisted on bringing her along. Alone, she could have worked Lynette into giving the house a chance, but with Marjorie Stern, it was two against one. “Still, Risa has a point. Most of the work’s cosmetic, and the basic design isn’t bad.” Risa’s hopes rose. “If you like mid-century,” Marjorie went on, making it clear that she herself did not, and dashing Risa’s newfound hope before it had even fully formed.

“And cosmetic isn’t cheap,” Lynette said with a smile. “As we all so very well know.”

“Still, it’s a buyer’s market,” Risa interjected in a last-ditch effort to save the possibility of a sale. “We can take ten percent off the asking price right off the bat, and I suspect there’s still a lot of room for negotiation.”

“Twenty-five percent off the top might get my attention,” Lynette sighed, “so I don’t think this is the house for me.”

“At least I know what not to show you,” Risa replied, deciding that next time she showed Lynette a house, Marjorie Stern would not be with them. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“So enough of this house hunting,” Marjorie said. “Let’s go have a drink.”

Risa picked up her purse and briefcase, mentally rescheduling the time she’d set aside to show Lynette Rudd what was currently on the Bel Air housing market.

“Will you join us, Risa?” Lynette asked.

Risa hoped her surprise at the invitation didn’t show. She’d shown Lynette houses twice before, but never had she suggested they get together for anything other than business. “I’d love to. Where shall I meet you?”

“The club?” Lynette suggested to Marjorie, who nodded her approval. Lynette turned to Risa. “Bel Air Country Club. Just follow us.”

Ten minutes later Risa’s Buick was parked behind Lynette’s Bentley in front of the valet stand, and the three women walked through the club to the terrace and ordered cocktails.

“How’s Alison liking the academy?” Lynette asked as the waiter disappeared.

“Very much,” Risa replied. “Thanks to Tasha and her friends. They seem to have taken her under their wings.”

“Tasha likes Alison. I think they’ll become good friends.”

Risa turned to Marjorie Stern, who looked to be about their same age. “Do you have children at the