by M R Field
Her bridesmaids each have a floor-length, pearl pink-coloured, trumpet-shaped gown, where the waistline draws in naturally with a slightly ruched bodice. The gowns have just one strap, with a ruffled detailed vining over it. I had tried to suggest that a different colour would be better suited, but that was another thing Virginia would not shift on. What did I expect from such a princess? Maybe I was the fussy one. Virginia’s antics were rubbing off on me. Shit.
They are still pretty, but making these dresses has given me ideas of what not to do for Hazel’s. Hopefully she’ll listen. If we can avoid it, we aren’t doing floor-length. As much as I love Hazel, on the off chance that she could become a Bridezilla in a blink of an eye and rise in a whirl of wildfire that will rival Vag’s, there is no way I am hightailing arse around with a long dress dragging behind me to be at her beck and call. Nuh-uh. Unless she demands it. Oh shit. Fingers crossed.
Unzipping the garment bag, I lie it across the chair next to the dress, ready to start putting it away. The bell from the door jingles, and I turn to the sound of Virginia and her bridesmaids walking in. Behind Eloise another figure appears, and it’s not long before I recognise Anastasia strolling in right behind them. The clacking of the ringleader’s heels along my wooden floor has me quickly breaking eye contact with Anastasia to focus on her. Here we go.
“It’s so stuffy in here!” she grumbles, flicking open the buttons on her coat, taking the coat off, and draping it over her arm.
“It’s a warehouse; I’ve got the heater on so I don’t freeze, but if you want to die of hypothermia, I’m more than happy to switch it off. They don’t call it winter for nothing.”
Virginia’s eyes travel to the side where my little space heater sits. I could fire up the rest of my heating, but when you’re working in just one area, there really isn’t a point. Plus, the days were getting warmer, slowly. It is Melbourne after all. It could be a tsunami of sporadic weather. This shit is fact.
Virginia steps closer to the stand, clutching her bag as her eyes roam up and down her dress. We had the final fitting a few days ago, so she has already seen the finished product. As her eyes scan the long material, obviously in search of a hidden insult to try to fling my way, I cross my arms across my chest and wait. I have encountered this look before, when a customer finds an imaginary fault and expects a mass refund. Nope. I’d rather put her dress up on the rack for someone else to buy than put up with that. I am an honest salesperson, for fuck’s sake. This is not going to be a moment to open a negotiation. Prices have been established, and there is no way I am going to back down. If anything, this ice princess could leave me a tip for putting up with her fussy arse bull—
“It looks, fine, I suppose,” she mumbles, flicking her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder to look to the bridesmaid dresses already in their garment bags.
My jaw tightens at her use of “fine” to describe my designs. I’m not the best in Melbourne, but I also know my value. If she wants to get a rise out of me, she’ll be turning me nuclear.
“You can bag that up, as I need to get to an appointment.”
I shake my head rather than plough my shoe up her arse and bring the bag over to the table I have set up, and then go to retrieve the dress. Carefully sliding it on top and then adjusting it to move underneath, my fingers feel stiff with agitation. Manners go a long way. I have to keep repeating that mantra. As I tuck in the skirt gently, I can feel tension building until my thoughts go elsewhere. Perhaps I could dedicate her a mannequin display, entitled, “Three Degrees of Constipation of Virginia.” Maybe I’ll stick her photo on the mannequins’ faces to really bring the act to life. Pity they’d look shit though. Pun intended. I chuckle to myself, feeling the tension shift slightly. I glance up to the princess herself. She stands posed and stiff. Is she holding in a fart? Part of me wants to make her laugh just to see if she’ll let one go.
“I’m glad you think my designs are fine. I’m sure I’ll have many fine designs to work over with Brit in the next coming weeks,” I offer, as the final pieces are tucked safely and neatly.
She blushes slightly, biting her lip before making eye contact. “Thanks for helping my friend.” Her pose shifts slightly with unease.
“Next time you pull a stunt of bringing in a bully from my past without warning me, I’ll put pins in places you won’t be able to retrieve,” I pull the zip up and tap the garment bag. “Customer or not, you crossed a line when she threw herself at me in here.”
Her shoulders push back defensively, but Leah steps forward and raises her eyebrows at her. “She’s right. Especially since she told us about their history. I know you didn’t want to make a scene, but still, it was a bit foolish.” Looking over at me, her face softens, “I’m surprised you’re helping her, but it’s nice of you to.”
“Let’s just say that you can’t hold onto grudges forever. You can try, but it’ll eat at you. Brit apologised, my friend is fine with us working together, so that’s final.” Linking my fingers through the coat hanger hook, I lift the dress slightly, and Virginia’s chin lifts towards Leah, then towards me. “Nope.” I firmly shake my head. “You carry your own dress. They aren’t your slaves.”
“But I need to pay.” She waves her card in the air, and I gesture to my desk.
“Well, let’s go and settle that first.” Lowering the dress gently, I walk over to my counter and hear a huff as her steps follow sulkily behind me. I process the payment for the dresses, while she nibbles on her bottom lip, waiting for me to hand the card back. “Worried there wasn’t going to be enough funds?” I joke, ripping off the paid receipt to hand it to her with her card.
“No, um … I just wanted to say …” her lips stammer, and she breathes out slowly, her head shaking a little. “Thank you for your help.” Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a card and plucks a pen off my desk to scribble on it. “When you’re free, call this number. It’s for Melbourne Bridal, and ask for Eva. She is waiting for you to call.”
“Um, what?” I take the card she’s offering and turn it over in my hands. Holy crap, this is the biggest bridal magazine in Melbourne. I have made appearances in smaller ones, but this is the motherlode.
“She wants to use your designs, not in this edition, but the next, so give her a call soon.”
I flick my thumb and forefinger back and forth along the card, tracing the edges, as I openly stare at her, my cheeks tensing, not sure whether to smile or not. “Why did you do this for me?”
“You’re great at what you do.” She shrugs. “I know you’ve got a decent amount of exposure, but this will give you more.”
“Wow, thank you so much.” I smile, flicking the card across my other palm, feeling the need to keep playing with it. A shiver rises along my spine in excitement, and I look at the card again and then decide to safely stow it in the drawer at my counter.
We walk over to the dress, and I hold it up for Virginia to take. She unfolds her jacket from her arm and puts it on before looping her bag over her shoulder. Stepping forward, her manicured fingers hook in the hanger, and she stares at me and smiles. “Besides, once my friends see my designer was in a magazine, they will be all over it. It’s not just for you, but … for me.” Her brows raise as she smiles sardonically.
“Oh.” I shake my head as I let go of the bag. “You’re not so bad for a mutton dressed as a lamb.” I smile as she flinches. I hold my arm out to the dresses. “Ladies, here you go, enjoy! It was a pleasure to meet you all.” I wink and giggle as Virginia turns awkwardly with her oversized garment bag in her hands. The others retrieve their dresses and give me a wave, except Eloise and Anastasia, who opt to stay. I wave back and wait for the others to leave before the three of us throw back our heads and laugh.
“That was so funny!” Eloise holds her bag in her hand as she clutches her waist to laugh. “She is going to be bitching the whole car ride to drop them home.”
“Still can’t believe you’re friends with her. She’s toxic, yet generous. I’m c
onfused how to feel.” I muse.
“She is nice, I promise, but she finds it hard to trust people.”
“She’s just really good at being a bitch,” Anastasia pipes up, and we make eye contact and I nod. My eyes drop to her chest, noticing her T-shirt, and I freeze. My mouth gapes as I stare at her.
“Oh my God! Where did you get that? I love that novel!” My voice wavers in awe. Her lips turn up slightly as she looks at Eloise for a moment, before she answers.
“He’s my brother.” She blushes. “He gave this to me.” Looking at her sister, she adds, “She has one too.”
“No fucking way!” I shriek. “I’m a huge fan.”
“Yeah, I kinda gathered that from when I was here once and you had his novel on your desk,” Eloise adds, smiling broadly.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I lightly tap her arm. “Dude! I would’ve said to introduce me or something.” Her eyes darken for a moment before she wiggles her eyebrows.
“He is a bit shy; you would’ve scared him,” Anastasia throws in. My eyes skim the characters on her shirt, and I feel the giddy rush of happiness flow through my veins.
“Can’t believe you’re related. You know, I had a massive pseudo crush on him.” I laugh. “If I wasn’t already taken, I’d be telling you to hook a sister up.”
“Well, he’s taken too.” Eloise tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she grins. “But you should drop in to the café sometime. He likes to come in for coffees most afternoons.” Her eyes cut to her sister and they smile, and I wonder what that look that is passing between them means. Maybe he’s really weird-looking … a hunchback or something. Nah. Surely not.
Fuck. Meeting TTE. Wow. This is more exciting than the card in my top drawer.
“I might just do that,” I giggle. “He needs to explain why Adam and Mila aren’t getting it on. They are on the brink, but he keeps causing rifts.”
“He’s so good at that,” Anastasia grumbles. “I wanted to make him tell me the plot the other week, but he … had to go. Oh, and our mum wants you to make a dress for her for October.”
“Oh, sure, cool.” My mouth draws in slightly, trying to remember my bookings. “I have a few things going on, but I’ll squeeze her in. Tell her to come and visit sometime.”
“Sweetie”—Eloise hoists the garment bag over the back of her shoulder—“tell Trin about the formal.”
“Oh.” Anastasia’s voice softens as a soft blush blooms across her cheeks. “I got asked out.”
“Yay!” I clap and do a little jig on the spot. “See? I told you that you were gorgeous.”
“He’s the guy I’m really good friends with, too.”
“The lab partner?” I clasp my hands together, eager to know.
“Yep.” She grins shyly.
“That’s awesome. You must have great chemistry.” I chuckle as I pretend to beat a drum in the air.
“Nice one,” Eloise nods.
“It all happened because I took your advice.” She bites her lip. My brows crease as I look from side to side. I struggle to remember what advice I gave, but she soon puts me out of my confusion. “I told those girls that I didn’t want to be their friends anymore.”
“Yay for you!” I jump and then reach forward to give her a little hug. She stiffens slightly, but accepts my embrace after a little while. “Well done! See? How did they take it?”
“Well, I told them to fuck off, and then Tom came and stepped in. It was really sweet.
They were pointing to my dress and making rude comments, and after I had enough, I felt him grab my hand and lead me to the dance floor. The rest is history.”
“Sounds like a top bloke.”
“He is.” She sighs.
“We need to get going.” Eloise looks at her watch. “I took my lunch hour to get this.” Her head tilts to the bag on her other shoulder. “But drop in sometime. We’re only five minutes away.”
I nod as they both begin to walk to the door.
“I definitely will be dropping in now!” I call out.
I hum as they go, happy that Anastasia did what I know a lot of girls wouldn’t have had the guts to do. Speaking of guts, I have to get my things organised for my surgery in two days. I’m not looking forward to it, but at least it is a day procedure. He’s made up the spare room in his house on the bottom floor, so I can avoid stairs. My heart thuds thinking about how sweet he is and how happy he is making me. Theo has promised me he’ll be my maid. I am tempted to whip up a quick frilly apron and make him wear it. Naked.
After I tidy up the racks and sort out some stock, I check the time and look around the shop for anything else that needs doing. No one else has come in, so I make a decision on a whim. Grabbing my purse from behind the counter, I quickly stroll out the back and check that the door is locked before getting my keys and flicking the sign to closed before walking out into the street and locking the door. I feel like a coffee, and I know the right place to go.
Walking up the street away from the city, I send a quick hello text to Theo, but no response comes. He’s probably in a meeting or something. My eyes travel over the other boutiques and cafés, and all the while the traffic keeps driving by.
Eloise’s café eventually comes into view on the other side of the road. I smile, admiring how the shopfront is rather quirky and cute. I’m about to watch for traffic before I cross the road, when I notice a familiar-looking figure out the front. A woman dressed in a leather jacket with a vague familiarity stands with her back to me. She’s facing a man and drapes one of her arms over his shoulder. He leans forward and kisses the top of her head affectionately, and I freeze. I know that face.
Theo.
Holding another woman.
Theo.
Showing affection.
He never shows any affection unless it’s … to me. Oh my God. My heart thuds in my chest as pieces of it begin to shatter. The violent rhythmic beat tries to escape my ribs as I clutch my shirt. My breath catches in my throat, and I struggle to breathe for a moment, until it builds up and a pained cry breaks past my lips. Hot tears cascade down my face, each bringing forth a memory of what I had with him. His kiss, his laughter, his embrace—all a fucking lie. I look up in desperation to see if it’s all a dream to find him brushing her hair behind her ear. Stop fucking touching her! I want to scream.
I’m about to step away but his eyes move past her face and clash with mine. A gasp leaves my throat as I turn and run like hell back to my place, not wanting him to follow, but the heavy sound of horns and shouting from motorists roar as I charge down the footpath. My stupid heart wants to turn around to see if he’s okay, but I keep running. The sharp pounding of heavy footsteps behind me sounds across the cold concrete, and I know it’s him.
“TRINITY!” he bellows, as I continue to zip past people, using them almost as shields as my front door gets closer. I thrust my hands in my bag as I run, clumsily trying to clasp the keys, when I feel his hand on my elbow.
“NO!” I scream, wrenching my elbow from his grasp as though my skin were burnt. Relief swarms me as I’m at my door, and I shove the key in, thrusting the door to get away. His hand pushes against the top of the door as he barges inside, forcing me to keep walking in. Now, though, I’m too angry to run. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” I yell, pushing against his chest. I push again, making him stumble back. I want to hurt him like my heart is hurting right now.
“Trin, calm down.” He moves out of my way to avoid another push. “You need to let me explain—”
“Like hell I do!” I throw my bag down hard against the floor and ignore the contents that spill from it. I point to the direction of the café and scream, “I saw with my own two fucking eyes, Theo. Did you think I’d never find out? Did you think that you could cheat on me and I’d be sitting here like a lap dog, waiting around for you?”
His eyes widen in shock as he steps closer to me.
“Don’t you dare come near me. I will rip your fucking balls off and th
row them on the tram tracks,” I warn.
“You need to let me explain; it’s not what you think at all.” He tries holding his hands up to protect himself. Oh you’re going to need a force field to protect you if you ever touch me again.
“See that door? You need to walk right out of it and never come back.” My eyes lower to the ground where my pills lie next to my wallet. Anger surges as my foot rises and stomps on the packet, crushing it into my floorboards as I continue to beat it into dust. Rage over every moment that we’ve ever shared is crushed beneath my shoe. “How dare you fucking lie to me!” I continue to stomp. Ugh.
“Trin! You need to stop! I can explain. I was never cheating on you,” he pleads.
“Fuck off. Get out of my store,” I stomp on the packet one last time as my gaze hits his. “Leave me alone! Now!”
The panel shows a man standing on a cliff face, staring out into the sun.
“I’m losing her when I never really had her. Is it too late to leap? What’s the point? I’m probably going to lose her forever.”
TTE
THEO
“What the fuck?” I bend down and grip my hair. Anguish cripples me as my raging heartbeat thunders against my rib cage. I’ve fucked up. I’ve really, really fucked up. My legs are restless with every word she throws at me, rapidly constructing a wall in between us. I can’t let that happen again.
“You need to let me explain, Trin. It is absolutely not what you think. She isn’t another woman.” My shoulders curl in defeat as her raging eyes continue to stare at me, the love I had seen in there closed off to make way for the hate that emanates from her now.
“I don’t give two fucks who she is, Theo. I don’t need a name or what the fuck you were doing. All I saw is that you were touching another woman.” The sharp sting berates me. “It feels like Claire all over again, and here I am, the idiot who believed in us.” She stares at me straight on and delivers her final blow, “I will forget it and forget you.”