The Breakup Club by Melissa Senate

Author:Melissa Senate [Senate, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Fiction, Romance, General, New York (N.Y.), Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Humorous Fiction, Family & Relationships, Women, Editors, Divorce & Separation, Promotions, Employment
ISBN: 9780373895588
Publisher: Red Dress Ink
Published: 2005-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

“No. No. No. No. And no,” Miranda said, sliding my clothes around in my closet on Thursday night. “Why is everything you own beige? And unsexy?”

Tomorrow after work was my date with Harrison. My first date in twenty years! My first date with another man. And I had nothing to wear. Nothing date-worthy, anyway. I had a closet full of hotsy-totsy clothes back in my closet in Bay Ridge, but all the new clothes I’d bought were “business casual.” Muted separates. Sensible shoes. Professional handbags. I’d been able to wear whatever I wanted at the Bay Ridge Brouhaha, but at Bold Books, I wanted to project professional. Ambitious. Dedicated. Serious.

After two weeks of the new and improved me, I still had trouble recognizing myself. I’d had all that long, curly blond hair since I was sixteen. Aunt Maureen had been supplying the free perms since I was twelve, but for my Sweet Sixteen, she and my mother had confabbed that it was time to turn me into “the woman I could be,” which was the motto of Aunt Maureen’s hair salon. Hair and Now: Be All The Woman You Can Be. And so I went from dark brown to light blond with hotter makeup to match, also compliments of my aunt.

The night before my sixteenth birthday, Robbie and I had made love for the first time. We’d been talking about it for the past year, and I’d been ready for months, but I wanted to wait for my Sweet Sixteen. When Robbie came to pick me up for my party, a huge affair at a teen club, his eyes popped out of his head. “You look so hot,” he’d said. “You know what’s weird, though? I’m really glad that last night was our first time. Because if we’d waited until tonight, you wouldn’t have looked like you.”

“I’m still the same me, though,” I’d said, annoyed. Then, I hadn’t understood the sentiment. But now when I looked in a mirror at this stranger, this dark-haired stranger without the wild curls, without the eyeliner and lip gloss, without the tight jeans and too-high heels, I didn’t feel like me at all.

I flipped through the clothes in my makeshift closet for the perfect date outfit. “What about this?” I asked Miranda, pulling out a beige cable-knit turtleneck and brown tweed pants. “The personal shopper at Macy’s said it was business casual and nice for evenings out.”

“Yeah, for tea with your aunt Bessie,” Miranda said. “Wait here.”

She returned with five hangers holding slinky things. “Look, if you want to be conservative at work, fine. I dress like a slut or a hiker at work because I’m almost hoping someone fires me to kick-start my butt. But you are not going on a hot date looking like a bank teller.”

She held outfits against my body. “Okay, forget black. With your dark hair and eyes, you need color.” She held up a slinky red dress with a high neckline. “This one. Trust me.”

The dress was great. I had many like it in my closet at home—at my old apartment.

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