"I figured I'd let you know I've already arranged everything for your emergency fashion rehab," she said smoothly. "I pulled a few pieces I think will do justice to that tragically handsome face of yours. I even roped in my tailor early — he owes me a favor."
"Wow," Rex said, genuinely impressed. "You move fast."
"Honey," she said, voice dripping confidence, "fashion waits for no one. Especially not fame. I had to rearrange half the boutique's priorities this morning, but… it's worth it. I don't let my clients walk into elite circles looking like discounted soap opera extras."
Rex laughed. "You wound me."
"Oh please. You'll survive. Maybe even thrive, once you see what I've prepared."
He sipped his juice and leaned back. "So, what time should I drop by?"
"Eight O' Clock sharp. No celebrity slouching, got it? I want to get your fittings done before the boutique opens. You'll get the full VIP treatment."
"As if I expected anything less."
