Stranded

by Chance Carter

  “I guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior then.”

  As we walked through the room, I heard snippets of conversations. I got distracted listening to them, trying to figure out exactly what the context could be.

  “—and that man possessed the audacity to look at me—”

  “—with the remaining funds, you’ll be able—”

  “—that hair-shirted existence advocated by—”

  “Derek! Derek, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  That voice—high, feminine, and marked by a heavy English accent, stole my attention. A pale, petite woman ran up to Derek and threw her arms around him before I knew what was happening.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here, Charlotte,” Derek said, smiling. “Charlotte, this is Amy. Amy, Charlotte.”

  I looked between the two of them. Charlotte, around Derek’s age, was remarkably beautiful. She was willowy, graceful, with long, bright red hair that fell nearly to her thin waist. She had an elfish face, green oval eyes, freckles speckled over her upturned nose. She was dressed in a full-length, emerald gown, with a plunging neckline. She looked like she belonged on the red carpet.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said, trying to fight the insecurities that threatened to break me.

  Charlotte glanced at the hand I held out, and paused before she took it, resulting in a loose, awkward, handshake. I died a little on the inside. Derek didn’t seem to notice.

  “Charlotte is one of my oldest friends,” he said to me. “Her family lived next door for twenty years and worked with the firm before they moved back to Britain.”

  Charlotte nodded. The way she stood, the way she spoke, exuded maturity and grace. “I heard about the party here, and knew I had to come. Robert actually invited me, Robert Van Murrey. It’s so good to see all of you again. It’s been too long.”

  “A year or two,” Derek said, nodding. “How’s work?”

  “Quite good. Business is booming, as always. The people can’t get enough of my work.” Charlotte smiled, then turned her attention back to me. “So, Amy, what do you do?”

  Again, I felt ridiculously out of place. “I’m a business student, I mean, I’m studying business at Columbia, at the moment.”

  “Interesting,” Charlotte said. My face burned.

  Derek stepped in, sensing my discomfort. “She’s top of her class, all honors. And she’s been a huge help at the firm. Giving us the younger point of view we were lacking, which is more important than you’d think. Our numbers have been way up.”

  “Ah, so a coworker.”

  “We’ve been dating for a year,” I said.

  Charlotte’s smile grew. “Oh, Derek. I’m so happy for you!”

  “I am pretty lucky.” He wrapped an arm around me. “I should probably make the rounds and find my father.”

  “I’d love to get to know Amy better. Can I steal her for a few minutes?”

  Derek looked at me, and I nodded hesitantly. “Sure. Don’t let anything happen to her, though,” Derek teased.

  “Oh, she looks like she can handle herself.” Charlotte laid her hand on my upper arm, guiding me along with her, as Derek disappeared into the party.

  When a server passed, I took another glass, glad that news of my ‘pregnancy’ wasn’t out, so I could drink. I needed it.

  “So,” Charlotte said, walking beside me. “How did you and Derek meet, dear?”

  “He, uh…” I scrambled to remember the story we’d come up with. “He was doing a presentation at the college, and afterwards, I went up to ask him a few questions. It was history from there.”

  “Aww, that’s sweet. And now you’re working for him, he said?”

  “Yep.”

  “Derek always told me that he would never mix business with pleasure, but you break the rules for love. He was always remarkably adamant about it, too—‘Charlotte,’ he’d say to me, ‘Charlotte, you know how I feel. My father made the mistake of marrying not one, but two of his secretaries, and look how that turned out for him. He almost lost the company. That won’t happen to me. No work at home, no home at work. Two separate worlds.’ It was smart, I suppose.”

  Her voice was sad. I studied her for a moment, starting to suspect that Charlotte and Derek had been more than just friends—or, at least, she had wanted them to be.

  “We met before I started working there,” I said. “Maybe that’s why he decided he could bend the rules.”

  “Maybe. How do you like working there?”

  “I like it a lot. Did you ever work there?”

  “Oh, my whole family has worked closely with Rittsman Enterprises. When I was seventeen, I interned there, for several years, until my family moved. Then, when I was twenty-five, I moved back, and worked there with Derek. I never really enjoyed the work, though. It was too dull.”

  “Yeah, it’s not exactly exciting, but it pays the bills.”

  She gave me a strange look. I kicked myself for bringing up money.

  “So what do you do now?” I asked her, wanting to change the subject.

  “Me? Oh, I thought you would have known. I’m a fashion designer. I’m Charlotte Ainsley. I just came out with my Emery line.” She studied the blank look on my face. “Surely you’ve heard of it. You live in the city, yes?”

  Shit. “It… it sounds familiar.”

  Charlotte looked me over. “Hmmm. There are a lot of designers in New York, it’s hard to keep us all straight. Who are you wearing now? I like it. It’s simple, clean.”

  “Um… Target?”

  She actually choked on her drink, and laughed. My face turned red, thinking she was laughing at me. But then she took me by the shoulder.

  “Derek always had a thing for the funny ones. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous. You must feel really out of place.”

  I was a little suspicious that she was mocking me, but her face only showed kindness.

  “I’ve never been to an event like this,” I admitted, looking around. “Dating Derek has been… an experience.”

  “I’m sure. He’s a wonderful person, but he can be a bit of a workaholic, you know? Of course you do. He always puts his job before anything else, even when he doesn’t want to. And most of the time, he doesn’t want to. I’ve always had a suspicion that he’s doing it for his father. He’s a good son.”

  I nodded along with her, envious of how well she knew Derek. From the time I’d spent with him, I never would have come to that conclusion. But she’d had years and years with him, and I’d only a few days.

  “You know what? Tomorrow. You, me, girl’s day. We’ll go shopping. I’ll even take you by my studio. We’re working on some amazing things that I think you’ll love.”

  “Oh, I’ll have to check with Derek, but—”

  “Derek? Pshh. I’ll tell him I’m stealing you for the day. I wasn’t lying when I said I want to get to know you, Amy. Derek really is a dear, close friend of mine. He’s never dated anyone longer than a couple of months, so you must really be something special.”

  “I… I guess, then. That sounds fun.”

  “Show a little more enthusiasm, darling! We’ll find you something extra special— you’ll never feel out of place again. Although, let me assure you, dear, you definitely seem like you belong here. Even more, you belong with Derek.”

  I searched her eyes for any hint of sarcasm, of mockery, but I didn’t find any.

  * * *

  When the party died down a bit and the guests were heading to their rooms, Derek came to find me.

  “Charlotte.” He smiled at her, before sitting down next to me and squeezing my hand. “I’m so sorry. I got caught up in conversation.”

  “No worries,” I said, hiccuping.

  “Amy and I have been having a wonderful time,” Charlotte said, giggling.

  We each had enjoyed our fair share of drinks.

  Derek looked between us, smirking. “It looks like it.”

  “Oh my God, Derek,” I said, lean
ing against him. “Did you know that Charlotte and I both have Saint Bernards? I mean, she has four. I’d go crazy. But isn’t that a crazy coincidence?”

  “Jesus, Amy, how much did you drink?”

  “Like five.”

  “Five?”

  “Five thousand.” Both Charlotte and I dissolved into a fit of giggles. “We also both think you look really good in blue. It’s your color. We agreed on it.”

  “Okay.” Derek wrapped an arm around my waist and stood up. “Charlotte, do you need any help to your room?”

  “Oh, no, I’m going to stay down here a while longer.” She smiled warmly at us. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” Derek said to her. I waved, unable to wipe the silly grin off my face.

  “Oh, I like her,” I said to Derek as he led me out of the room.

  “She’s a good friend,” he responded, nodding in agreement. “I can always count on her when I need her. I’m glad you two hit it off so well.”

  “Me too.”

  “Ready for bed?”

  “Nope.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, “Oh?”

  “I want to look at the stars. Charlotte said they’re really pretty out here, without the light pollution from the city.”

  “Alright. You seem like you could use a little fresh air, anyway.”

  “I’m not drunk,” I said, matter-of-factly, even as my head spun and my body was numb.

  “Definitely not.” He chuckled, and steadied me as we walked up the stairs. He brought me to a room I hadn’t been in yet. From there, we had access to the roof, up another short set of stairs outside.

  “This is so cool,” I said, sitting down and patting the space next to me.

  The summer night’s breeze was warm and humid, and there was not a single cloud in the sky. The darkness stretched infinitely above us, peppered with an impossible number of stars. I leaned against Derek, in awe at the beautiful sight.

  “I see the Little Dipper,” Derek said, pointing.

  “And the Big Dipper,” I sighed happily, completely consumed by an overall sense of peace. “Those are the only constellations I know.”

  “Me too.”

  I laughed, and Derek wrapped his arms around me. We fell into a comfortable silence. The whole world was quiet for us, just the whisper of the wind tickling our ears.

  Chapter 13

  Amy

  I was awakened the next morning by a loud knocking on the bedroom door. Groaning, I rolled out of bed, hungover and sore. Derek and I must have sat outside for hours last night.

  After slipping on a white bathrobe that I found in the bathroom on my first night here, I cracked open the door. Charlotte was there, fully dressed and ready, smiling at me.

  “Oh no, did I wake you? I’m sorry. I thought you’d be up by now. I wanted to get an early start.”

  “No problem.” I yawned. “I should be up anyway. What time is it?”

  “Around 9:30.”

  “I’ll meet you by the door A.S.A.P. Just gotta get ready.”

  Charlotte nodded, and I shut the door, turning back to Derek. He was still snoring, stretched face-down and taking up most of the bed. I was tempted to crawl back into bed with him, but resisted.

  I settled on a pair of white shorts and a blue blouse, and twisted my hair up into a messy bun. I didn’t look especially put together, especially for spending the day with a fashion designer, but I preferred comfort over style, and today was supposed to be hot.

  “Where are you headed?” Derek asked sleepily, rolling over and watching me get dressed.

  I glanced over. “Charlotte wants to take me shopping. I couldn’t say no.”

  “Ah. You should have a good time, then. Take my card.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary.”

  “Amy.” He yawned, then sat up. “Amelia, I have way more money than I know what to do with. You’d be doing me a favor if you took some of it off my hands. Get yourself something pretty.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing.” He got up and searched for his wallet. “This isn’t an argument. Here. Take this. Don’t lose it. Use it. Have fun.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “My treat.”

  I gave up trying to argue with him, and finally thanked him, kissing him back.

  When I was ready, I left Derek and hurried down the stairs, finding Charlotte waiting for me by the door.

  “Ah, Amy, there you are.” Charlotte was dressed in a yellow bodycon dress and huge sunhat, looking bright and youthful. “Are you ready?”

  “And excited.” I smiled at her. There was something warm and inviting about Charlotte, so I couldn’t help but be cheerful around her.

  She led me out to her car, a sleek, lime green Lamborghini, and got into the driver’s seat.

  “Has Derek been spoiling you with a chauffeur?” Charlotte asked, when I clambered in. “He’s so ridiculous with his ‘time management’ excuse. The truth is, he’s just an awful driver.”

  I laughed. “I like Adam.”

  “He’s still employing Adam? Wow.” She turned on the car, the engine purring sweetly. The vehicle was a piece of art. “I’m surprised he’s not dead.”

  On the long drive to the city, Charlotte rolled down the windows and blasted classic rock. I never would have guessed she listened to this particular genre of music, but now that I looked at her, it did seem to fit somehow. I sang along, and we laughed, and enjoyed the ride.

  Time passed quickly, and we arrived at the city before noon. The building that we stopped at was absolutely beautiful—sleek, modern, round, and made of windows. Above the revolving door was a sign that read, Ainsley Designs.

  “Wow,” I breathed. “You started all this?”

  “You bet I did. This building used to be a sales building. Wait until you see the inside.”

  After Charlotte parked, I followed her inside. The interior of the building was just as, if not more, beautiful than the outside. The floor was marbled, the walls pastel. Charlotte greeted the receptionist, then led me through the building to a glass elevator.

  “My office is on the top floor,” she said. “The view is magnificent.”

  As the elevator rose, I could see the floors passing through the glass door. Flashing before my eyes was every sort of fabric, every piece of clothing, mannequins, practice runways. Anything and everything related to the industry, Charlotte had packed into her building.

  Finally, the elevator beeped, and we arrived at the top floor. Charlotte brought me back to her office in the corner, and when she opened the door, I gasped audibly.

  I would have expected Charlotte’s office to be crisp and clean, like the rest of her building. Instead, it looked like a laundry basket had exploded in the room.

  As I studied it, I discovered that there was some sense of organization. It was just so full of clothing, texture, and patterns, it was overwhelming at first.

  “Come on in, come on in!” Charlotte maneuvered expertly around the tables and clothing racks, trailing her hands down the clothes on either side of her. “I know, it looks like a bit of a mess. I work better in chaos. It helps me think freely, which is key in fashion design.”

  I didn’t get through the room as gracefully as she had, bumping and running into every single thing there was to run into. Finally, she stopped, and gestured around.

  “See anything you like?”

  “Umm.” I looked around the room, trying to pick something out. It was overwhelming.

  Charlotte laughed, noticing how completely shocked I was. “Let me help.”

  She started pulling things off shelves, seemingly at random, but there was a look of serious concentration on her face.

  “We’re going to find you some sweet, sophisticated looks,” she told me. “We want to match your personality. Nothing too overdone or gaudy. I want elegance.”

  Finally, she turned back to me, carrying a stack of clothes higher than her head. Her face was stretched with childish excitement.

  “It’s been so l
ong since I’ve given anyone a makeover,” she said, her voice high and fast.

  “A… a makeover?”

  “Mm-hmm. Once I find you a few outfits, we’re going to see what we can do with your hair. You’re going to look absolutely fabulous, dear. Not that you don’t already.”

  And so, I started trying on clothes for her. She was handing me things that I never would have dreamed of trying on. A black pencil skirt matched with a short-sleeved, grey, hooded top. Black skinny jeans and a purple, cape-like jacket. An apricot, a-line, sleeveless blouse. A tight, tan dress that only had one shoulder. Even a billowy, white gown that made me feel like a Greek goddess.

  Somehow, she worked magic, and every single thing she put me in made me feel beautiful.

  She beamed. “Wow, Amy. You are making everything look good.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re the one doing that, Charlotte.”

  “Alright, take that off, and sit down there.” She pointed to one corner of the huge room, where there was a large vanity. I listened, and waited for her in the chair. She shuffled through a bunch of drawers, and set out way more beauty tools than I knew existed.

  “How much do you trust me?” she asked, her accent thick with enthusiasm.

  I looked at her, feeling especially adventurous. “Do whatever you want, Charlotte. Make me shine.”

  Four hours later, and she had done exactly that.

  I would have expected to not look or feel like me, but when Charlotte finally allowed me to look in the mirror, I was overwhelmed by a sense of being completely myself. Charlotte had somehow managed to make me more me than I ever had been before.

  She had cut my hair to my collarbone, highlighted, and curled it. It looked silkier and healthier than it ever had in my life. The make-up she put on my face was natural, but bold. Smokey eyes, thick eyeliner, faux lashes, deep red lips. Finally, she had picked out this beautiful, summery dress, a casual, knee-length red one with a little flowery white frill peeking out of the a-line bottom, a matching shawl tied around my shoulders, and red heels to match.

  “What do you think?” she asked, appearing behind me in the mirror.

  I was suddenly struck by the urge to cry. I bit back the tears, tore my eyes away from my image, and turned to her so I could hug her tightly.