by C. L. Stone
Maybe he had implied too much this was a trade. She did think she’d failed last night.
He snapped his fingers at that. That was it. She failed, and Ace wasn’t there to reassure he’d help her anyway. It drove her to tell...who did she tell? That new guy of Loïc’s?
After meeting Daniel, it was clear she needed transparency in her life. She needed to know he always meant to help her out, once he’d learned who she really was and what this was all about. There was no way he would have thrown her to the wolves here in Atlanta after learning the truth.
He only hoped she believed him after the fact.
Cornered
(Eva)
On the second floor of the shopping area were more storefronts, although the storefronts were designed for more privacy than the downstairs areas. No window displays, only plain, glass doorways with names painted on them, or signs next to them to indicate what they were.
Specialty boutiques were familiar territory to me, but these were indistinguishable on the outside. They didn’t draw attention to themselves. Unusual. Maybe they didn’t want just anyone walking in, designed to look like office spaces until you got up close. Anything could be behind the doors, from art dealers to private spas. Appointment only locations.
Soma stopped at one such discreet door, opened it and stepped aside to allow me through.
The main area was a wide space designed to look like a model showroom floor. There were curtains along the walls, but these had been drawn back to reveal the dark gray wall, with the words Tissu Deux painted in gold, utilizing different fonts and in different sizes. The full effect making an unusual pattern.
Around the edge of the room, there were displays featuring mannequins dressed in unique pieces, from elegant gowns to everyday streetwear. The mannequins were also different colors and shapes, some for men, women, and some showing off styles for a variation of range in orientation. They were accessorized with shoes, handbags and even some jewelry.
In the center of the room, white sofas and arm chairs were arranged, all facing a center stage, the back of the stage displayed mirrors so the person standing there could see from all angles.
“You must be Emily,” a female voice said.
Off to the side of the stage was an open doorway. From it stepped a tall woman, appearing taller with black wedge shoes. She wore black slacks and a tight black button-up shirt, but the buttons were offset, closer to her arm instead of center.
Smart. It avoided a potential problem with gaps around the chest area.
She touched lightly at the corner of her purple glasses before she stretched a hand out as she approached me. “I’ve heard so much about you already. My name is Gretchen, but you can call me Gretta.”
“Good things, I hope,” I said, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
She turned to offer her hand to Soma. “Soma. Nice to see you again.”
Soma shook it shortly. “A pleasure.”
Gretta nodded, and then pressed her palms together, fingers laced, and lowered her hands. “So, I hear someone is in need of a new wardrobe. Something fast?”
“We definitely need something for tonight,” Soma said. “The charity event.”
“Right. Courteau. A lovely soirée from what I’m hearing. I’ve had a few people come in.” Gretta motioned to me to follow her. “So you’ll want something elegant. Luckily, you and I appear to be about the same size, and I like to test new designs on myself. I may have something that would work, but I’d like to take your measurements.”
I was about to list them for her, but I thought it to be inappropriate. I was Emily. As much as I wanted to talk clothes, to learn about what she did, I couldn’t get too enthusiastic or I might give myself away.
Soma remained in the central room, aiming to sit on one of the couches, and I followed Gretta through the doorway.
The hallway was dim and my eyes didn’t adjust enough to pick out details until we were in a smaller room in the back, this one was completely mirrored all around. There was a couch covered in a blue velvet material. Off to the side stood a table and a coatrack.
“If you’ll wait here,” she said, “I’ll fetch a few things.”
I turned, looking into the mirror, waiting. I calmed the little bit of nervousness I thought I was holding on to. This is where I was comfortable. The right outfit could define a person. It leaves an instant impression. Friendly. Cold. Powerful. Whatever you wanted, you just needed the right look. Follow it up with a hairstyle and attitude, and you could be almost anything to anyone.
I needed confidence, and I knew I could find a little bit if I could find the right outfit for me.
Gretta returned shortly, carrying several garment boxes along with a measuring tape draped around her neck, a small tote and in the other arm she was holding a couple of different gowns. Her face was stiff as she concentrated on carrying and not dropping anything.
I went to her, taking the gowns and tote from her to help.
“Thank you,” she said, and she brushed some of her brown hair away from her eyes. “Just hang those dresses on the coatrack, will you?”
I did. The first one on top a halter dress with a short skirt. It was plain black, and the skirt had a little ruffle. “How formal is this event tonight?”
“Less ball gown, more comfortable, lightweight pieces for a warm summer night.” She finished placing everything else on the table and moved to stand next to me near the coatrack. She looked at the halter. “I was going to suggest that one first, but I think I forgot to note the sunburn. Soma had told me about it.”
My lip twitched and I nodded, turning to her. “It isn’t painful at the moment, but it is in that transition part between red and too tan.”
“Maybe I’ve got something...” She tapped a forefinger at her lip, looking at me. “Can you get down to your underwear for me? Let me see where the burn lines fall.”
I moved to the couch so I could take off the shirt, remove the sandals and then put the pants aside over the cushions.
Gretta examined my skin. She whistled. “What shirt were you wearing that it got to your chest?”
“A V-neck, but loose. I didn’t know it at the time, but the fabric was so thin, and the material was slipping around my shoulders. It didn’t protect me at all.”
“We’ll have to get a little creative then, won’t we?”
Gretta took my measurements, including around my arms and thighs, and she got my feet as well. She even measured the length of my hands.
She wrote it all down on a pad of paper and then checked the numbers. “We’re almost the same, except for height. My legs are a tad longer.” She moved to the coatrack and removed two layers of dresses and displayed the third one. “This might work for tonight though.”
The dress was a white silk, form-fitting dress with quarter sleeves. But the interesting part was a second layer of lace, with cherry blossoms sewn into the lower hem of the skirt, and it drifted in a wave up and over the shoulder, making it look like the blossoms were windblown across the body. The lace part covered a good portion of the neck and arms.
“Oh, that’s exquisite work,” I said, attracted to the dress and getting closer to it. I traced fingers over one of the blooms, noting the layering, and the silkiness of the material. “This must have taken ages for you to make.”
“I like my work,” she said and winked at me. She paused, looking at my face and raised an eyebrow. “You look really familiar.”
I froze, and then turned, my face falling.
Her eyes widened more, and she blinked at me. “Lacroix?”
My mouth moved, my heart exploding in my chest. She knew. Ace’s plan had already failed.
Gretta gasped and clapped her palms over her cheeks. “It is. I followed your blog for years.”
I blinked rapidly, body shaking and ready to defend myself from a barrage of questions, to run out to Soma and ask to leave immediately. “You have?”
“I’m a fan. I loved the articles you did reviewing Fashion Week, and how you dove into the stories of even tiny Etsy designers, asking them about their origin stories.”
“It’s a small world,” I said quietly, sure she had to have seen the media on me. “And you didn’t hear about...”
“Oh, that drug nonsense?” She made a slicing motion with her hand. “I knew it was pure nonsense. Who doesn’t disappear when the internet is on a rampage?”
“I was hoping to hide here until it settled down,” I said quietly. “I knew there would be a few lies spread...”
She winked at me. “Don’t worry. I didn’t see you here.”
I breathed out a sigh. “I was worried. After everything that happened...”
“Don’t be. If you’re innocent...”
“I am. I didn’t do any...drug things.”
She nodded. “Yup. There was a big discussion on one of the forums. We all knew. It sucks, but we were pretty sure once it died down you would come back. You were pretty adamant about transparency, and the accusations sounded nothing like you.”
I was surprised by the support and learning that at least a few people—those that had actually followed me and knew what I was about—saw how ridiculous this whole thing was. “I’m glad you do know I’m here, then, and who I am. Because I’ve been dying to ask you questions.”
Gretta laughed. “Spill them. But let’s try a few of these things on while you do.”
For at least a half hour, I forgot about everything—the drugs, my possible problems with the police, and my ex. I even forgot about Ace and Loïc. I dove into the world of fashion and quizzed Gretta on the local trends, other local designers, the boutiques, what was local style but also what tourists often ended up asking for.
Meanwhile, I tried on the white cherry blossom dress, several pairs of slacks, some shirts, jeans, sweaters, even socks. I told her I wanted to fit in around Charleston, and she worked with me to find something I was comfortable with.
“If I could wrap up beaches and downtown charm and sweet shoppe into a wardrobe blend, I think we’ve done it,” Gretta said, looking over photos on her phone, a collection she made of different styles she thought were me. “I can give you a few of these today, including the dress, but I’ll need time to make the rest.”
“It seems like a lot,” I said. “But then I’m used to creating capsule and travel wardrobes, so I was limited on what to include.”
“You needed a complete restart from scratch, from what I understand.” Gretta smiled. “The police took everything, didn’t they?”
I nodded and rolled my eyes. “Maybe it was for the best. I hate to say it, but while I loved the clothes, I treated them like prizes. Museum pieces. I didn’t wear them much and when I did, it was short. I was so afraid to ruin them because I spent a fortune on each one.”
“I know the feeling,” she said, and she brushed my arm with a warm palm. “That’s why I like any brand that avoids being pretentious enough to stick a label on itself and let people know the money it took to get the item. Even if you paid for the quality, there’s no reason anyone should need to flaunt it. You don’t see a lot of that in this town.”
“They don’t like brands?”
“They don’t mind them,” she said. “They just don’t like flashy ones. Who wants to be a walking billboard? If the piece was actually really good, you’ll tell people, word of mouth, how good it is.”
I liked the idea. It was how I used to spread news about new boutiques with specialty brands I liked. If I found something of real quality, and a place that understood style, I talked about it.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked her as she was re-boxing some of the clothing items that didn’t work with me. “Do you know Mrs. Harper? The one that owns that line of underwear...”
Gretta threw her head back and gave a sharp “ha!” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I can’t stand her. I didn’t have an issue with her though until you mentioned she buys her stuff from really bad sources in Malaysia.”
I knew people read from my blog, but it was a little strange to see the effect I was having on other people. “Yeah,” I said. “Actually, I haven’t been on the internet since...well I wanted to find out if she’s changing her sources, or if she’s ignoring this. You see, someone complained in a shop here locally and they stopped selling, but she wants to move to another store.”
Gretta lifted an eyebrow. “Good question. You had found the original article talking about it, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “And Soma bought some underwear for me on accident. He returned them after I mentioned what I knew. And they basically exiled her from a shop here. I heard she said it was a vicious lie. I wanted to double check.”
“So you need someone who can ask a few questions?” Gretta nodded. “Tell me what you want to know.”
“Find the person who wrote the original article. Ask her source. The name should be in my blog, but I can’t remember.”
Gretta snapped her fingers and then pointed at me. “Got it. I’ll dig up whoever it is and can call her and see how she found out, and if I can find out if Mrs. Harper changed vendors or if the situation changed. Will be nice for once to be involved in something like this. She needs to make the company she is working with hire adults, give them a living wage...all the best things.”
I gave her the number to the cell phone Oliver gave me.
When we were finished, Gretta said she’d send the bill to Ace once she figured out a total. She’d have the dress fitted properly and delivered tonight. Some items already fit well, and she sent them with me. I walked out with a couple of boxes of pants and shirts and other items. It was a cute touch, her putting items in little garment boxes.
I’d never shopped for an entire wardrobe at once. Not for myself. My face was glowing as I walked out.
However, the realization that with a designer, the price must be astronomical per piece, I wondered why Ace and Soma didn’t just bring me to any of those shops downstairs in this mall.
Maybe it was impulsive of me to turn to Oliver and Loïc. It had only been one day.
While I was walking away from Gretta to find Soma, I was regretting the decision to allow Oliver to tell Loïc. Here Soma and Ace were, being very nice to me, and I was looking to save my own hide through any means possible. Maybe I was wrong about them all. Maybe I should call Oliver back and ask him not to repeat anything I’d told him.
Soma was sitting on one of the white sofas when I returned. He lifted his head from his phone, a red palm mark across his cheek where he’d pressed his hand to his face as he browsed. “All finished?”
“I think so,” I said and showed him the boxes in my hands. “The dress for tonight, she’s bringing over later after she makes a few adjustments. Tell me this isn’t too much?”
“Probably not enough.” He collected the boxes from me and smiled. “Then if you’re ready, we’ll return to the house.”
There was something odd in his smile, though. It wasn’t full. His eyes didn’t light up like before. Something wasn’t right. “Any word from Ace?”
He winked at me and, without saying a word, motioned to the door.
Puzzling. Was there news or not? Or did he not want to say it here?
This could be bad.
He said nothing as he carried the boxes for me through the building until we could get back outside. We got back into the town car, and he started it silently.
I waited as long as I could. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Did something happen?”
Soma unbuttoned his shirt a few buttons, until the start of his undershirt was exposed. He also unbuttoned the sleeves, rolling them up while waiting for a light to turn green. “Loïc was in Atlanta just now.” His eyes slid from the windshield to my face. “Do you want to tell why he’d be there?”
My lips parted. How did he get there so quickly? I hesitated to answer him, unsure if I was that reason or if it was coincidence. Still, I couldn’t hide wh
at I’d done from Soma. Not when he looked at me like that. Unhappy. He probably already knew. “I don’t know if it’s the reason...Oliver suggested he could look into my case in Atlanta. From what he heard, he thought Loïc could help.”
“So you told him everything?”
“I told Oliver what was going on with me, after he told me how he ended up with Loïc.”
Soma raised an eyebrow. “What did Oliver tell you about himself?”
“That his previous employer accused him of attacking her. That Loïc helped him get out from under it.”
Soma nodded, pressing his lips together, focused on his driving again. “I wish you had told me.”
“I’m not sure who to tell what,” I said, pressing a palm to my cheek. “I’ve only known anyone for one day, but I have no reason to lie to anyone. I told Oliver only when we were stuck together running away from the restaurant. It wasn’t until later he suggested Loïc could help.” I sighed. “At first, I didn’t see the harm. But that was only this morning. I don’t know how he could have gotten there so soon or if he could have managed to do anything at all.” I paused and then balled my hands into fists in my lap. “I should have left the moment I recovered. I should never have left at all. I just panicked and left. I’m here alone, waiting for other people to handle a situation without knowing what’s going on. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t the type of person I am...”
Soma put his foot on the breaks, and we slowed, he made an abrupt turn down a side road, where he pulled to the side and stalled in the road. There was no one behind us, but still, the suddenness surprised me.
He turned to me, his dark eyes wide, but the curl of his lip told me his was concerned. “Eva,” he said. He pushed a palm to his own chest. “There’s no shame in letting anyone else help you.”
I pressed my palms flat against my thighs. “Then why do I get the feeling you’re accusing me of something?”
Soma sighed. “Ace was on track to help you. Bringing in Loïc at this stage might have put Ace and Loïc and you at risk of exposure that you’re here or worse. If it had been anyone else...”