"Wait a minute," Erin said suspiciously. "Did Warren tell you to go shopping for this assignment?" Stella just nodded exaltedly, as Erin groaned in frustration. "He did? How could he when I had not even been asked? He knew I would accept, didn't he?"
"Well, of course he did," Stella interrupted. "You could never resist a challenge, now could you? And just admit that you have been bored stiff in the last few months. You told me so yourself. So quit wining and let us get started, shall we? We have a lot of work to do to get you ready for this assignment. Oh, I can't wait to see the end result. This will be so much fun!" Stella smiled happily.
Erin was not so sure what the end result would be, but she had every confidence that she would definitely look like the silly sectary she was supposed to portray. No doubt about that.
Stella started opening the boxes and spreading clothes all over the living room as a cascade of good advices flowed all over Erin. She could barely follow or understand all the good advices but the clothes were absolutely dreadful as far as she was concerned. Most of them looked like they had last belonged to a prostitute.
"I'm not wearing that," she said pointing at a light pink top, which displayed more cleavage than it concealed. "You simply can not be serious. And the colour is just plain dreadful! I hate pink!"
"You know, girl," Stella interceded. "Baggy clothes will never land you a bloke. This one will."
"Most likely he would just ask for my price," Erin grumbled to herself.
"Well, why don't you start to put on the clothes and we'll see what suits you best, Stella suggested.
***
After a ton of make-up, hair ripping and trying on a dozen of different outfits, Erin was definitely ready to go hunting males - preferably with a shotgun. Or perhaps she would just shoot herself instead. No torture could beat this. She felt practically naked in the short skirt, high heels and the skin-tight top. She wondered how she was going to move at all without showing off too much skin. It was one of the outfits Stella had settled for in the end.
"Wonderful," Stella beamed behind her. "Just wonderful. And that pink colour is just perfect for your light skin. But I think you need to show a bit more of that cleavage."
"I think it needs a shawl. A large one."
"Never!" Stella drummed on. "This is just perfect to get some male attention. Just remember to bend from the waist, not at the knees. That way you will show off both cleavage and legs."
"Why don't I simply strip down completely? That might get even more attention."
Stella just sighed.
"Sorry," Erin said. "I'm very glad you are helping me. It's just so much new stuff to learn. Like, how am I going to walk with these heels?"
"By practising, of course," Stella said slowly as if trying to instruct a difficult child in the arts of mathematics. Well, this felt far more difficult than mathematics, Erin thought.
"Now try to walk across the floor," Stella suggested. Erin stumbled across the floor, her entire body bent forward as she tried to adjust to the high heels.
"No, not like that. Try to straighten your stature and keep your shoulders back. Show off those boobs, will you?"
"Nothing much to show," Erin admitted with a laugh. She had never been the most endowed in that particular department.
"Well, if you straighten your stance they will seem bigger than ever before," Stella explained.
"No, that's the padding," Erin laughed. "You put so much extra padding in there that any guy I pick up is bound to be disappointed when he realise it's mostly fake."
"Don't be silly. Now, try not to bend your knees so much. You need to feel more comfortable in those heels before you can convince anyone."
"These are not heels. They are torture instruments," Erin grumbled.