Are You Tiffani Caine? Ch. 02

Sara was both baffled and offended. "Of course not."

"Oh." The woman paused for a moment, lips pursed, and then asked, "Hooker? Like a call girl?"

"No!"

"Huh. So what's the deal?"

"I...I'm not any of those things. I work at a business solutions company and I go to church."

The woman regarded her from the corner of her eye and shook her head. "So why are we doing this?"

"I'm...not even sure what 'this' is," Sara admitted. "What's going to happen tonight?"

"What, you don't know? Seriously?"

"No. All I know is that you called me and told me to meet you."

The woman furrowed her brow then did something unexpected: she burst into laughter. "Well what the hell are we doing this for then?"

"I don't know what we're doing," Sara repeated.

"We're going underwear shopping. I'm taking you to a shop owned by a friend of mine who is a lingerie designer, a real up-and-coming one. You're going to buy a shitload of bras, panties, stockings, everything. Hope your credit cards ain't maxed, her stuff is hella expensive."

Sara opened her mouth and then snapped it shut again. Underwear? Again? What was these people's obsession with her underwear? And maybe more importantly, "How much?"

"With all the stuff you have to get, I don't think you're getting out of there for less than three thousand."

Sara bolted upright so hard her seatbelt tightened and yanked her back. "THREE THOUSAND? Are you serious?"

The woman shrugged. "It's not cheap but it's amazing stuff. I can't afford a whole new underwear drawer like you're getting, but I have a few pieces I got with the friend discount. It's the most comfortable, best-looking underwear I've ever had."

Sara reeled. She already had plenty of underwear, even after giving three pieces of it to Man-Bun. How could she afford to spend $3,000 on bras and panties? Well she could afford it because she had a great credit rating and five cards with almost nothing on them, but how could she afford it? How could she explain it to Isaac? And if he somehow saw her wearing it, how could she explain that?

Three. Thousand. Dollars. For underwear.

Suddenly Sara realized the woman had said something that she hadn't heard a word of. "Sorry, what?"

The woman grinned. "I'm gathering that this is all an unwelcome surprise for you. You didn't have a clue this was coming?"

"No, I mean last time -" she stopped, wondering if she should be mentioning what had gone before to someone who was somehow in on it but who didn't seem to know the details. She then decided that she was already in so much trouble that a little more couldn't possibly matter. "Last time there were problems with my underwear."

The woman arched an eyebrow. "Last time you went shopping?"

"No, last time I...well, nevermind."

"A woman of mystery. How film noir. You somebody's femme fatale?"

Sara was quiet for a long moment, then finally said, "Yeah. Maybe."

"You're full of surprises. I don't expect us to meet again after tonight, but I'm Rachel."

"I'm -"

"You're Tiffani Caine," Rachel cut her off. "The guy who set me up with this told me that was the only name you had. I don't know what the hell you did to get yourself into this and I honestly don't care, but I guess you're in dutch with some major players and there's no point getting yourself in deeper. Right?"

"I guess."

"So you're Tiffani, I'm Rachel."

"Pleasure."

Rachel snerked. "I'll bet my ass that ain't true."

"Last time was worse. At least I can talk to you without wanting to puke. So who set you up with this?"

"Guy I owe said I could work off some debt taking you shopping. It's the easiest repayment I ever had."

Sara smiled sadly. "Your debt must not be that big."

"Oh this doesn't pay it off," Rachel laughed. "This is like... a payment on the interest. I wish this paid it in full."

"Who told you to do this?"

Sara didn't really expect an answer, so she was surprised when Rachel said, "Herm Schwartz. Real motherfucker, bad damned news. You know him?"

"No, I've never heard of him."

"You're lucky. He makes my skin crawl. He's the kind of guy you regret knowing from the moment you meet him. But then he was the only kind of guy who could help me with what I needed help with, so now I owe him."

"I guess I shouldn't ask you what you needed help with."

"Go ahead and ask," Rachel replied with a shrug. "I won't tell you. You like Slipknot?"

"No."

"Sucks to be you, then," Rachel said, turning on the radio. Heavy metal flooded out of the speakers at an uncomfortably loud volume. Sara understood none of the lyrics and tried to block the music out just as much as the music blocked out conversation. She did not succeed.

It left Sara alone with her thoughts, which was a mixed bag. On the one hand it was looking like she wouldn't be expected to do anything sexual at all with Rachel, which was an incredible relief. On the other hand, THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS. She almost panicked at the thought of it. She was getting married in five months and she, like Isaac, was supposed to be saving every penny to kick off their lives together. This was a huge hit. Isaac knew how much money she had almost down to the penny, just like she knew the same about his finances. Even if she dumped it all onto a card she never used and he never asked about, he would notice this sooner or later! Why underwear?

Without speaking they crossed the Mississippi and made their way down to Highland, a neo-trendy part of St. Paul that used to be gloomy and industrial before America lost all its factories. Nowadays it was all tea shops, bespoke baby toy stores, and overpriced apartments - and, apparently, boutique lingerie places. It was fully dark when they pulled to the curb alongside a store called Raso e Pizzo and Rachel turned off the car (and, mercifully, the music). Sara peered out the car window at the storefront and said, "Is that the name of the woman who owns it?"

Rachel barked a laugh. "Nah, that's Italian for 'Satin and Lace.' The woman who designs the lingerie and owns the shop is named Brenda Heyerman. She just needed a fancy-sounding store name if she was going to be charging $500 for a bra."

Five hundred dollars for a bra? Sara vision swam. She bought the cheapest underwear she could get! She'd be too terrified even to put on a five hundred dollar bra. Almost inaudibly she whispered, "I hope she has something cheaper."

"Only one way to find out," Rachel said, stepping out of the car and closing the door behind her. Taking a very deep breath and shaking her head, Sara followed.

The store was closed but the lights were still on inside, and Sara could see a dizzying array of things that she would never choose to wear: bras and panties that were little more than suggestions, corsets, nightclothes that a decent woman would only wear for her husband on her honeymoon. Rachel stepped to the door and rapped loudly on the glass. A woman stood up from behind a rack of teddies and smiled as she made her way to the front of the store. She was in her mid-30s, with dyed bright red hair and a voluptuous figure many women would envy. She threw open the door and smiled. "Hi Rachel! This must be the friend you told me about. Are you Tiffani Caine?"

Again with the password or whatever it was. "Yes."

"I'm Brenda. Come on in." She stepped back and Sara followed Rachel into the store. Brenda locked the door behind them to keep customers out. "So Tiffani, I was told you're here to improve your lingerie situation. You've come to the right place. I have the finest lingerie in the Twin Cities, and I'm sure you'll be happy with everything you buy from me."

"I'm sure I will," Sara said with the same unrestrained joy with which one might greet Jeffrey Dahmer.

Brenda arched an eyebrow and turned to Rachel, who shrugged. Looking back to Sara, she said, "Well don't display any enthusiasm for a person's life work or anything. I take it you're a reluctant customer?"

"I...was told I have to come here and buy underwear so I'm here."

Brenda got a sudden look of understanding and nodded sagely. "You're into it with Schwartz too?"

"No," Sara said, then, "Maybe. I don't know. I don't think so."

Brenda threw another glance at Rachel, who shrugged again. "Well then, let's get moving so you can go do something else. Come on back to the dressing rooms, we'll get your measurements."

"I know my measurements," Sara said. "My bra is 32D."

Brenda glanced her up and down with detached, professional intensity, pursed her lips, and said, "If you're a 32D I'll give you the best bra I have for free. Come on, I think you might end up enjoying this more than you expect." Sara reluctantly followed behind Brenda as the woman led her to the dressing rooms and gestured Sara into the first one they came to. "Let's get your dress off so we can figure out what size you really are."

The dressing room curtain was wide open, but the three of them were the only ones here and nobody else was coming in. She could hear Rachel's phone start playing a video from somewhere out in the store, so really it was just her and Brenda, who had nothing but a professional interest in her. Still Sara was nervous and her fingers fumbled at the zipper tab as she reached for it behind her neck. "I've got it." Brenda said as she stepped behind Sara, undid the zipper with a practiced flick of the wrist, and stepped back. With a deep breath, Sara let her dress drop to her hips and stepped out of it.

"Oh," Brenda said when the dress was off, and her tone mingled disappointment and dismay. "Where do you normally buy your lingerie?"

"Ummm...Walmart?" Sara said as she hung her dress up on a hook on the wall.

"Well, that explains it," Brenda said. "Trust me, when you put on my things you'll wonder why you ever wore the cheap stuff. Arms up." Sara complied and the woman took a couple of measurements of her chest just at the bottoms of her breasts, then stepped back and pointed to Sara's chest. "See where the flesh bulges above the bra cup there?"

Sara looked down at her boobs. "Um...yes?"

"That means you're using a cup size that's too small," Brenda told her.

Sara's eyes widened in surprise. "I had no idea..."

"Alright, now please take off your bra."

Normally Sara would feel very, very reluctant indeed to get naked from the waist up in front of a woman she'd only known for a few minutes in any context but a gym locker room, but Brenda's manner had become polite and completely professional, like a doctor almost, and Sara undid her bra and shucked it off with only a moment's hesitation. As she wrapped the tape measure around Sara's bustline from behind, Brenda asked, "How does it feel to take your bra off at night?"

"Oh gosh, it feels amazing!" Sara said. "It's like...like taking off a straitjacket or something. I can finally breathe."

"Well here's a little secret," Brenda told her. "It shouldn't feel that way. A well-made, properly-fitting bra should feel so good to wear that you forget you have it on. It should feel just as good to put your bra on in the morning as it does to take it off at night. Now, see here?"

In the reflection of the full-length mirror Sara saw Brenda pointing at the grooves in her shoulder skin where the straps had been digging into her all day. "If you're going to tell me those are wrong too..."

Brenda smirked. "Those are wrong too. When a bra fits right, the straps rest on your shoulders and provide a continued good fit throughout the day, firm but never tight. Same with where the band has really dug in on your sides, see that? That should never happen because that causes pain and discomfort all day long. When a bra is right for you the band holds you like a hug from a loved one. Firm but never tight. That's the thing to remember. When were you fitted for a bra last?"

"I...hmmm," Sara said, trying to remember. "I guess when I was 17, after my breasts had stopped growing."

"And when you were a 17-year-old girl, a 32D probably fit perfectly. But you're not a girl anymore, you're a woman, and you've filled out. You're now a 34DD."

The information caused Sara's eyes to widen. "I...seriously? How did I not know that?"

Brenda chuckled. "Most women who come into this store for the first time don't know their real size. Don't worry about it, giving that information is part of the service I provide."

"So I guess the free bra is off the table?" Sara mused.

"Guess so. Wait right here, I'm going to go grab a bra and we'll confirm your size."

While Brenda was gone, Sara couldn't help but stare at her breasts in the mirror. They were a highly visible part of her own body that she saw multiple times every day. To her they were no more sexually exciting than her kneecap or her underarm, they just...were, like anything else. But now she looked at them just a little bit differently: they weren't what she'd thought they were for her entire adult life. They were sitting there before her very eyes 100% of the time - she had to own special garments to deal with the things - and she didn't even know what size they were. What else didn't she know about her own darned body?

She was still lost in thought when Brenda returned only a minute later with a bra in hand. It was shocking to Sara for a two reasons: first, she always wore white, black, or extremely muted colors of lingerie, and this bra was pink - not nearly as vivid as a headache-inducing Barbie pink, it was more understated and somehow adult, but it was still unmistakeably pink. She had never bought pink lingerie for herself and hadn't worn any since she was a teenager. Second, and far worse, was the fact that it would be utterly scandalous for a Christian woman to wear anything like that except maybe - maybe - for her husband on very special nights. It was perfectly sheer to the point of almost being transparent, but it was also skimpy, with a gorgeous but thin band, delicate shoulder straps, and a plunge design that rendered the cups separate triangular pieces of cloth instead of the clunky, continuous, and very concealing type of bra she was used to wearing. This bra concealed absolutely nothing. Before Sara could speak, Brenda said, "Let's try this one for sizing."

For sizing. Well, yes, for sizing purposes it was fine. Maybe it had just been the closest bra and Brenda had grabbed it. Reluctantly she put her arms up for Brenda to put it on, and she fiddled with adjusting the cups while Brenda fastened it. She frowned to see her pink nipples clearly visible through the pink fabric and gave it another tug as Brenda moved around her, checking the fit and asking how it felt -

And the worst part was that it felt amazing. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a bra could feel this way. She could barely feel either band or straps, but more than that she could barely feel the weight of her breasts. Always before they had been a heavy presence on her front that got heavier and less comfortable as the day progressed; but here she was, having already been encased inside a bra since 5:30 that morning, wearing a bra that made her big breasts seem as light as air.

Brenda was behind Sara watching her reflection in the mirror and grinning. "I take it from the dumbfounded look on your face that you like it."

Sara looked up from where she had been staring in bafflement at her own boobs and said, "This...this bra is...it's very comfortable."

"Wait 'til you break them in a little bit, they get even better."

Sara found that difficult to believe. She also found the reflection in the mirror difficult to believe, because she never would have imagined she would wear anything this revealing for any eyes other than Isaac's. It was gorgeous, exquisite, simultaneously perfectly practical, decadently luxurious, and indecently sexual, and it looked good on her. Finally she cleared her throat and said, "It's gorgeous and it fits better than I ever thought a bra could, but, well, do you have anything less...skimpy?"

Brenda arched an eyebrow. "My instructions were very precise. Mr. Schwartz said I was to sell you the sexiest things that would still hold you in place over the course of the day. I take it this comes as a surprise to you?"

Sara sighed and looked at her reflection again. "No. I guess it doesn't. I just hoped...well, never mind."

Brenda frowned behind her. "Maybe I could accommodate you better if I knew what effect you were going for. Where will you be wearing my creations? And these are obviously not the sort of things you're used to, so why are you wearing them? Are you supposed to show them off, or..."

"I don't know," Sara said wearily. "I didn't even know this was happening until like an hour ago. The guy...someone I met recently had a problem with my underwear."

"If it looked like the stuff you wore in, I'd have had a problem with it too, but I wouldn't have forced you to upgrade. Is Mr. Schwartz...giving you a job?"

"I don't know him," Sara said. "I've never talked to him or laid eyes on him. I've never had dealings with him. He's the one giving you and Rachel orders tonight, but...well, I guess whoever is pulling my chain is giving Schwartz orders."

Brenda winced sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Mr. Schwartz is bad enough, but if you're in with someone worse than him..." She let the sentence trail off, then a moment later asked, "And you're positive you have no idea why you're here?"

"Just that someone hates my underwear."

Brenda bit her lower lip, looked at Sara's face in the mirror, and seemed to make up her mind on some unspoken question. Quietly she said, "Look, it's none of my business, but I've gotten really good at sizing people up. You are nothing like the typical girl who comes into my shop. You don't want to be here. You don't want to look sexy. You came in dressed in shapeless and unstylish clothes - no offense - and I'm pretty sure you know they're not attractive and you want them that way. Right?"

"I...dress for modesty," Sara admitted, though she was a bit stung at the woman's assessment of her dress - she liked that dress.

"You've probably thought about this already. Women decide to buy my items for all kinds of reasons, but men don't specify that women buy this kind of lingerie unless they intend to show them off in it, enjoy them in it, or both."

Sara had in fact been too overwhelmed to give it any thought, but the obvious truth of Brenda's observation struck her with such force as to leave her physically and emotionally numb. She stood for a long moment with a bewildered, gormless look on her face before she finally admitted in a tiny voice, "Oh. I suppose you're right."

Brenda hesitated for a moment as though she wanted to say more, but finally she just nodded and said, "Let's get more things for you to try then. We can get you on your way back home."

Sara could only nod, but the moment that Brenda was out of the room she felt that her legs could no longer support her and she collapsed onto the fitting room chair. She had known that this, whatever this was, was not going to be the end, and the Caller had informed her as much. She understood that on an intellectual level. But she hadn't allowed herself to really think about what that meant, about what was at the end of the road she was being dragged down. But then she knew where that road led, didn't she? One of the Caller's "requests" would cross a line and she would say no and then it would be back to Florida for trial, imprisonment...maybe worse. There was no other place this could end.

You had to have lines.

She had pushed herself back upright by the time Brenda returned with an intimidating armload of bras that were so scanty they almost didn't exist. "I've picked a selection of our different sorts. Some of these come in black, white, and red. The rest come in other colors too. I'll separate the ones with a wider color selection. With any of these, if you want to see a different selection or others in a similar style, just give a shout. These are all your size and I guarantee the fit of everything I sell, so if you don't want to try everything on, you don't need to. I do recommend you try at least one of each style to see how they feel when they're on you."