April turned first turned this way and that. The one nice thing about working for UNCLE was their wardrobe department. A girl could find anything she wanted in those racks and racks of clothes.

She had on an orange barkcloth wiggle dress. She loved the bodice with its flower, the orange worked with her complexion and it did nothing but flatter her figure. She looked back at the folding screen. A periwinkle blue party dress hung there and she really loved the femininity of it. The bodice was boned and the draping made it look soft and floating.

April heard the door open and looked back over her shoulder. "Oh, hello, Mark, what do you think?"

He shielded his eye. "I wish you'd warned me. I'd have worn my sunglasses." He laughed and she joined in. "It's a bit bright, inn't it?"

"You invited me to walk in the Easter Parade tomorrow and I want something wild and sunny. Something that shouts, "Welcome, Spring! Bring on your sun and the flowers."

"And all of those showers," Mark finished. He offered her an umbrella and April's face fell.

"It's not!" She looked in the mirror. "It wouldn't dare! Not after all I've gone through this afternoon."

"It is, love, but it's due to clear out tonight." He glanced over at the other dresses. "Is that it, then?"

She twirled again. "I think so." Then she paused. "What are you wearing?"

"Never you mind. I promise that we won't clash."

"Well, that's a relief. I suppose you are here about the reports?"

"Napoleon called. He wants them before we leave tonight."

"Okay, give me a minute to change and I'll be there."

The next morning dawned sunny and clear. April fairly danced around her apartment as she dressed. She'd found the perfect hat to go with the dress. As opposed to the form-fitting dress, the hat was airy and just a bit on the floppy side. She fell in love with it instantly.

Her phone rang and she answered it as she was clipping on her earrings. "Hello?"

"Ah, Miss Dancer, your escort to the parade is here."

"Thanks, Harry!"

"Miss, bring your sunglasses."

"Thanks!"

That was Harry. The doorman had always looked out for her since she'd moved into her building. He was more of a father figure now and she often invited him up for dinner or just a quiet evening. He was a widower and apparently relished the attention of the young woman.

She grabbed her sunglasses and a white sweater and headed for the elevator, her heart singing. She could barely feel the carpeting beneath her feet as she hurried through the lobby and to the front door.

Then she stopped, her breath taken away. Mark was standing there wearing a bright orange suit. The shade was just hair off of her dress.

Mark grinned at her and adjusted his lime green tie. "See? I told you we wouldn't clash!"