I came into the office the next morning to see Amanda dressed in her regular clothes. Before I could ask, she offered "oh, I'm not going to put on the outfit until we're ready to go, I don't want to wrinkle it." I agreed, and told her that she could change in my office while I was out at lunch, leaving plenty of time to make the 3pm meeting.
I returned from lunch to a startling sight. Amanda was standing in my office, looking at herself in the mirror.
"OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU WEARING!!!" I yelled.
"I told the woman at Bergdorf that I wanted to look like I was out of Vogue." Like a little girl, she immediately gravitated to extremes. I looked at my watch. In about an hour, I was supposed to walk into the executive suite of WTI, in the middle of the afternoon, with Amanda wearing an outfit that was only appropriate on the runway. The only places to purchase acceptable clothing were right through the snare of the usual midtown traffic jam. The only buildings between my office and the client were residential...
...Including my residence! I could get to WTI in twenty minutes, passing right by my penthouse. If she was Samantha's size ... Amanda was looking at me, somewhat teary eyes, realizing that she had let me down. I grabbed her arm, dragged her to the elevator, and said, "I hope you can get changed in forty minutes!"
We rushed into my wife's closet and I began grabbing outfits while Amanda looked around in amazement. "She has more shoes than I have closet space!" she exclaimed.
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