Carrying Hope

by Tate, Sennah

  “We can go shopping, or you can go without me. I know you don’t feel comfortable with me buying things for you, but you can’t keep wearing the same clothes forever.”

  I frowned, knowing he was right. Winter would be here before I knew it and without warm clothes I was going to freeze. I pursed my lips, trying to find a way to keep my pride and my distance from him; I came up empty.

  “Okay, you win.”

  I was rewarded with a huge smile from him that made my heart skip a beat. I hated how he did this to me! I was complete putty when he was around.

  “I made a call today and made you an authorized purchaser on my black card. You’ll have your own in a few days, but for now you can hold on to mine.” He removed the card from his wallet and set it down on a table by the door.

  “What? How can you even do that without telling me about it?”

  He shrugged.

  “When your bank account is as large as mine, the credit card companies tend to bend over backwards for you.”

  “You are infuriating!” I groaned, not really meaning it. I couldn’t believe that he’d made such a huge leap to trust me with that kind of money.

  He pouted, looking absolutely irresistible when he did.

  “Why can’t you just accept a gift?”

  “Because, it’s too much! Maybe you’re used to all of this, but I’m not. I’m used to having to decide between paying the water bill or the light bill. I’m used to having landlords pounding on my door because my rent check bounced. I’m not used to private jets and no limit credit cards.”

  “I’m sorry, Marcie. I never thought about it that way. I only want to make you happy. I’m not trying to buy your affection or anything.”

  “I… I mean, I didn’t… mean to… um…” I stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. He wanted to make me happy? He wanted my affection? Who was this man? For two weeks he pretended that I didn’t exist.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Enjoy yourself shopping tomorrow and then we’ll continue this discussion at dinner. Deal?”

  I nodded, still tongue-tied by his revelation.

  “Have a good night, Marcie.”

  “Night good… Bryce,” I muttered, wincing at how stupid I sounded.

  He chuckled as he pulled my door shut, leaving me alone to wallow in my own awkwardness.

  The next morning, Francis knocked on my door bright and early.

  “Miss Marcie? Your driver is ready to take you into town whenever you’d like.”

  I groaned, trying to eke out a few more winks of sleep. I knew that I was better off just getting up to face the day. It couldn’t be all that terrible, could it? Girls liked shopping. I always hated it because I didn’t have any money, but this was different. Now I had more money than I could wrap my brain around and I didn’t know how to process that.

  “Francis,” I called, wiping sleep from my tired eyes, “do you know where Bryce is taking me for dinner?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but he wants to keep it a secret.”

  “Can you at least tell me if it’s going to be fancy?”

  “I believe formal attire would be appropriate, yes.”

  I couldn’t stop my moan of frustration.

  “And I suppose there’s no way around that, is there?”

  Francis smirked and then quickly cleared his throat to cover it up.

  “No, I’m afraid not. Master Dorian has his heart set on this particular location.”

  I sighed, knowing I’d been defeated. It wasn’t fair to have the butler fight your battles for you, but if he wanted to play dirty, I could too.

  “Okay, tell the driver I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  “Of course,” he said with a half-bow.

  I rolled my eyes; he never dropped his butler routine. Apparently, according to Clara, he’d attended some fancy butler school overseas. I didn’t know if that was true, but I knew enough to know that this house would crumble without Francis’s watchful eye.

  My hand trembled as I slipped the black credit card into my pocket. I couldn’t even begin to fathom the amount of money Bryce must have. Oddly, the thought comforted me. I shouldn’t feel guilty for buying myself nice things when it wouldn’t even make a dent in his bank account. The part of my brain that controlled scheming was working in overdrive. He’d finally begun to make a move and I didn’t want him to back out now, so I was going to go out of my way to look incredible.

  I’d never really had the opportunity to care about my appearance. Without a mother around during my teenage years, I never learned how to apply make-up or do anything with my unruly curls. Being a young woman and having only your father’s hand-me-downs didn’t exactly make great fodder for a confidence boost.

  I made a face at my scuffed sneakers as I climbed into the waiting town car. Even as an adult I didn’t really have the kind of income that allowed me to spend anything on myself. I probably had the smallest wardrobe of any twenty-five year old woman in America; especially now that most of my clothes were left behind at Kevin’s. It would be nice to have something different to wear. I didn’t know how I felt about trying to look sexy; I wasn’t entirely sure I could pull it off, but I was certainly going to try.

  A lot of my memories of my mother were from shopping trips. My mother was a firm believer in retail therapy and spent my father’s hard-earned money on frivolous things that she didn’t even care about. Maybe that was why I’d always despised the activity: it reminded me of my mother’s betrayal. Bryce didn’t know that though. He was only trying to do something nice for me and there was no need for me to punish him for my mother’s misdeeds. If he wanted me to treat myself, I would.

  “Do you know where you’d like to go, Miss?” The driver asked.

  I froze; I didn’t think that BargainMart was the right answer. I needed something formal, but I had no idea where to go for that.

  I leaned forward, sticking my head through the space where the partition would be if it were up.

  “I’m gonna level with you, I have no clue what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. Where would I go to get something super fancy?”

  The corners of his lips twitched upwards and he nodded.

  “I know just the place; don’t worry.”

  “Oh, good,” I said with a sigh, sitting back in my seat. That was one worry out of my mind. Now I just had to focus on finding the perfect ensemble.

  I didn’t even know if they made fancy dresses in my size. That was another thing I always despised about shopping. Typically when I needed new jeans or shirts I just went to the men’s section instead of trying to find something feminine to fit my plus-sized frame.

  Regardless, I had faith that Bryce’s black card would be able to conquer any wardrobe challenges I encountered.

  As the car rolled to a stop in front of the boutique, my stomach filled with butterflies. This was so not my element. I didn’t know anything about fashion or how to match shoes with dresses. I didn’t even know how to walk in heels. If I was going to do it, I needed to just suck it up and jump right in. Taking a deep breath, I exited the car and walked into the small store with as much confidence as I could muster.

  Immediately I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb; not only was every other woman in the store a stick figure, but my ragged clothes next to their designer duds made me look like a bum. A sales clerk approached me with a sneer on her face.

  “The restroom is for customers only,” she spat with her hands on her bony hips.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but another salesperson butted in before I could.

  “We don’t carry your size anyway,” she hissed.

  All of my worst fears were coming true. It was the mean popular girls in high school all over again. I was poor and fat and not on their level in any sense. Except now I had a secret weapon.

  I slipped my hand into my pocket casually.

  “Oh, okay, I’m sorry. Do you know where I could get something nice for a special occasion? Actually, I need a who
le new wardrobe…” I withdrew the card from my pocket and watched them follow it like a cat stalking its prey.

  They stammered, dumbfounded and made frantic motions to try to stop me from walking out of the store.

  “That’s okay, I’ll find something on my own, thanks anyway!” I replied with far more enthusiasm than I felt. I wanted to curl up and cry. I’d been through plenty of humiliating experiences, but I’d never been turned away from a store before.

  I left the store, my hands shaking with fury and climbed into the car, slamming the door behind me.

  “What’s wrong, Miss?”

  I was fine until he asked what was wrong. After that, all bets were off. My eyes welled up with angry tears and I buried my head in my hands to hide my shameful display. I swiped at my tears furiously, before sniffling and looking back up to answer him.

  “My name’s Marcie,” I introduced myself.

  “It’s a pleasure, Marcie. I’m Renaldo. So what happened?”

  “Are you Bryce’s usual driver?”

  He looked confused for a moment, so I’d already guessed the answer by the time he spoke.

  “No, I work for a service. I drive different people all of the time.”

  “Okay,” I leaned forward, wiping my face again, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not like your usual clientele. This is like a different planet for me. Those people,” I gestured back to the store, disgusted that I even called them ‘people’, “They’re terrible. I need somewhere that’s going to treat me like a human being.”

  “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, Miss… Marcie. I never would have brought you here had I known that you would be treated poorly.”

  I smiled at him, letting him know he was forgiven.

  “I think I know an even better place. My wife works there and she will treat you like a princess.”

  A wide grin spread across my face.

  “That sounds perfect! You’ll be my hero if we pull this off.”

  Of course, all of the confidence I’d managed to gather was now completely gone. I knew that Bryce didn’t mean for this excursion to be torturous, but it was. I already had enough self-esteem problems without piling onto them by trying on mountains of clothes that didn’t fit me.

  “I’ll go in with you,” Renaldo said, exiting the car and coming around to open my door for me.

  Once inside, he located his wife and introduced us. Sarah was a handsome woman in her late 30s, tall and broad shouldered with a short crop of chestnut hair. She greeted me with a warm smile and a firm handshake.

  “Welcome, Marcie! What can I do for you today?”

  Her chipper attitude eased my tension and put my anxiety to rest. This store was already a million times better than the other one; surely I would be able to find suitable attire here.

  I explained the things I needed, including the option to completely make me over as she saw fit. I wanted to walk out of the store looking like a confident, beautiful and stylish woman. I was tired of being the Marcie that let the world walk all over her. I wanted to be a new Marcie. A better Marcie. A Marcie with hope and a woman that could be a role model for her daughter. Not that I knew I was going to have a daughter. Even if I had a son, I wanted him to grow up with a healthy respect for women and it was hard to respect a woman who didn’t respect herself.

  I spent the entire day trying on dozen of outfits, dresses, shoes, and accessories. After the first handful of items, I had to stop looking at the price tags. Some of the dresses I tried on cost more than I made in a year. Sarah, at my prodding, called the credit card company to make sure that everything was really okay. She came back into the dressing room with another armful of clothes, looking like she’d just won the lottery.

  “You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart. You could buy a dozen of these stores and your Mr. Dorian wouldn’t notice.”

  I don’t know why her gleeful statement made me blush. I guess I felt silly for having ever doubted him. It was just still so surreal to me.

  “All right. Give me your best shot then,” I said with a giggle. I had no idea that Sarah was going to take that as a personal challenge. She made it her mission to make me over from head to toe and by the end of the day, I was nearly unrecognizable.

  Chapter 16

  “Clara! Stop fussing over her, we have to go,” I called out up the stairs. I’d been waiting for Marcie for well over thirty minutes. Clara claimed she was just “putting on the finishing touches”. I knew it was nonsense because Marcie didn’t need any finishing touches. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on. I was beginning to get worried that Marcie changed her mind about going out with me. I didn’t want to think that she would back out of a commitment, but I still had a hard time believing she had any reciprocal interest in me.

  “I’m coming!” Marcie called from her room. I heard her new shoes clicking against the hardwood floor as she came down the hallway. While I was disappointed that I wasn’t able to go shopping with her, from what Francis told me, she’d done very well for herself. I was worried that she would be timid and only buy a single gown or perhaps not buy anything at all. According to my butler, she arrived with dozens of bags and it took the efforts of Clara, Francis, and Marcie to get all of her things put away in under two hours.

  The moment she stepped into my view, my heart stopped. This was not the sweet innocent Marcie that I’d first met. This was a devilishly stunning woman intent on capturing my heart. Her ample curves were draped seductively with dark blue silk, her fiery hair was fixed into an elegant-yet-effortless up-do with a few stray tendrils framing her face. I never really realized it before, but I’d never seen Marcie in any kind of make-up. Her natural beauty was only enhanced by the light touches of make-up here and there. Around her neck was a classic string of small pearls; I followed the line of her dress from her neck, down to the dip between her breasts and I felt my pulse quicken.

  It never ceased to amaze me how easily she lit this fire in my veins. I used to think that I was immune to such things, but Marcie made me see everything in a different light.

  “Well? What do you think?” She stopped on the second step to be at eye-level with me.

  She held her hands in front of her, fidgeting nervously. I reached for one of her hands to still her anxious movement and brought it to my lips.

  “Well worth the wait.”

  She smiled and shook her head at me, trying so desperately not to blush.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she commented and I felt my male ego swell like a proud peacock.

  Of course, I was nowhere near as jaw-dropping as Marcie; I wore a standard tuxedo with a skinny tie. At least I was clean-shaven; I had that going for me.

  “Do you think the gloves are too much?” She asked, showing me a bare of long silk gloves that she held.

  “Hmm, no. I think the gloves are sexy.”

  Her eyebrows raised and a smirk crept onto her face.

  “Maybe I should start wearing them all of the time then.”

  I laughed, shaking my head as she slipped her bare arms into the gloves.

  “Shall we?” I offered her my arm.

  She hooked her arm into mine, reminding me how dangerous it was to be this close to her. I kept waiting for the epiphany that would tell me that my desire for her was only a temporary thing. I kept looking for the catch; waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never happened.

  After hearing how pleased she was with him, I opted to keep the driver employed through the night. I didn’t want anything to distract my attention from Marcie tonight.

  “Wo-ow, you look fantastic, Miss Marcie,” the driver complimented her as she entered the car and I felt the first bit of jealous start to creep in.

  “Oh, thank you, Renaldo,” she gushed and turned to me, “Renaldo’s wife is the one that helped me with all of my clothes. She’s amazing.” I could see how happy Marcie was now; before she seemed to hide and now she shined.

  “Renaldo, tell your wife that s
he has my most sincere thanks. She is certainly amazing.”

  “Would you like a personal stylist?” I asked without missing a beat.

  “A what? Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, nudging me.

  “I’m not. I’m serious. I have no qualms against placing Renaldo’s wife under my employ if you want it.”

  She still looked confused and I wondered what I’d said this time to offend her.

  “I’ll think about it… let’s just get through tonight, okay?”

  “Sure,” I agreed, hoping to lighten the mood, “Are you really dreading it so much?”

  “Well, no, not in those words,” she said, nibbling on her bottom lip in that delectable way that always drove me crazy.

  “Well, in what words then?”

  “I didn’t exactly have a great upbringing, you know…”

  “Yes, I do know. Neither did I, remember?” I placed a hand on her knee, my whole body tuned into her. I noticed every shift in her body language, every time she tensed up and every fake smile. She thought she was fooling me, but I learned her tells very quickly.

  “What I mean is that you’re taking me somewhere fancy, right?”

  “The fanciest.”

  “Well, I don’t know how to act, or which forks to use. What if I don’t know how to pronounce something? What if I completely embarrass you?”

  “Marcie,” I held her chin between my thumb and forefinger and brought her eyes to mine, “No one is going to notice anything about you other than how incredible you look. I guarantee it.”

  “I’ll bet you say that to all of the girls,” she teased, trying to diminish what I said.

  “Only the ones that save me and then turn my life upside down,” I corrected, making her smile.

  “Has anyone ever told you how goofy you are?”

  “Of course not; I’m not goofy with other people.”

  “Really? What are you like with other people?”

  I shrugged.

  “I try not to be with other people.”

  “Isn’t that kind of sad?”

  I frowned, having never considered that.

  “I guess it kind of is.”