"Val, Mr. Reed said you'd be accompanying him to dinner with the clients from the United States tonight." Monica looked Valentine Teller up and down before adding, "Drop by the eighteenth floor before getting off work to borrow some clothes. Dress a little more formally, okay?"
"Oh, do I need to borrow clothes from the eighteenth floor?"
Valentine looked to Monica for help, wondering why she hadn't mentioned borrowing clothes earlier.
"If it were me, I wouldn't need to borrow anything. But you? You definitely have to." Monica stood up, dressed in Chanel's latest seasonal attire— a houndstooth wool skirt paired with a beige lambskin jacket.
From head to toe, she looked as if she had just stepped out of a department store window display, impeccably stylish.
She swayed elegantly over to Valentine, one hand on her hip as she leaned against the table. "Well, how do I look?"
"Mm, stunning." Valentine nodded, instinctively glancing down at herself.
