Jen treated herself to a day of pampering at a local spa. In case anything was going to happen, she wanted to be ready. She scheduled a manicure, a bikini wax, and a massage. She spent the day in a state of relaxed anticipation. With her body cleansed of so many impurities, she felt rejuvenated. The massage reminded her how much she enjoyed the touch of another’s hands. Jen didn’t want to get off the table, but she finally pulled herself up and got dressed.
Next she was off to buy a dress for the date. It had been a long time since she had shopped anywhere but J. Crew, the Gap, or Banana Republic. Jen drove to Minneapolis’s Uptown neighborhood. Filled with chic restaurants, stylish boutiques, bookstores, and coffee houses, Uptown was an eclectic mix of punks, artists, wealthy suburbanites, and just about everyone else.
After shopping for about an hour, Jen wandered in to Cooper Campbell, a high-priced, ultra-hip clothing store that catered to anyone who had enough money.
“Hi, I’m looking for —”
“A dress that says, ‘Here I am, stare all you want, but don’t touch without my blessing,’” the voguish, olive-skinned woman said, giving Jen a quick fashion inspection. “First date, but you’re not quite sure whether there’ll be any sex, huh?”
“How’d you know that?”
“I own the place. I see this a lot. I’m Cooper Campbell. First of all, we need to dump the whole Martha Stewart thing — this isn’t the Connecticut suburbs. Second, you have to stop hiding that cute figure. Once we do that, we can turn you into something that is kind of wow, kind of now,” Cooper declared with the enthusiasm of Richard Simmons.
“I’m in your hands.”
“Let me do my thing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Cooper raced through the store picking pieces off the racks with calculated precision. Soon a large pile of clothing was in front of Jen. “Tell me, where is this guy taking you?”
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