Tugging at the jersey material, she cast a critical eye on the neckline and again at the empire waist. She supposed it was conservative enough without being too sexy; still, she didn’t want to look like a frump, either. God knew it was almost impossible to find a dress that might impress a professional escort; adding her figure into the equation didn’t exactly leave her many options. Picnic blanket with head and armholes, or overly laced, cut down to her navel and up to her bikini line? With her body type, finding something in between was harder than it should have been. Luckily, she had just enough sewing experience to be able to alter the less-than-flattering outfits into something a bit more sophisticated. Still, she wasn’t sure if the sky blue material flattered her curves or accentuated them too much. Was the upswept hair too businesslike? Were the dark heels too risqué? Did she have on too much makeup? Exactly how did one dress for a man who was, according to his contract, supposed to be her own personal cabana boy?
