by Cynthia Dane
Jasmine barely had time to see the dresses on her. They were on and off before she could glance in the mirror. They came in such spurts that all she saw was white, ivory, and light creams covered in tulle, beads, and the occasional sequins depending on what phase of Bonita’s life they represented. Sometimes she expressed such hatred for her own designs that Jasmine was afraid the designer would rip them off her body and burn them in the middle of the studio. These dresses that had to be worth thousands of dollars already…
“Stop!” The studio went silent as Bonita stared in fascination at the latest piece Jasmine wore. Even if they weren’t involved with this fitting, women all around the studio looked up to see what was going on. “This is it. Adrienne, come here, tell me I am a piece of shit.”
“I’m sure that’s not necessary.” Nevertheless, she rose from the bench to view Jasmine from the front. Her face instantly changed from indifferent to…
To…
“Holy shit. Jasmine, you have to look at this dress on you.” Adrienne grabbed Bonita’s arm. “You’re a piece of shit.”
“I know, sweets. I do my job.”
Jasmine slowly turned with the help of an assistant, for the skirt was so full that it was easy for her to lose her footing on the raised dais. When she looked into the mirrors now in front of her, Jasmine had to wonder if she were still sleeping – for what dream had she stepped into?
It was not the first princess dress she put on, although this one borderlined on ball gown territory. It was, however, the first one that fit right and didn’t make Jasmine feel like she was sucked into a dress vacuum.
While it’s flaring skirt and strapless, sweetheart-shaped neckline was not a new idea, the way it hugged Jasmine’s body and accentuated her figure was something she had never seen on her frame before. She… well, she looked like a princess, but not the fairy-tale kind. She looked like a modern day princess, the kind who worked a shitty desk job as opposed to cleaning out fireplaces for an evil stepmother. Until Prince Charming – who was probably her boss – showed up and changed her life forever.
The gentle slope of the silk skirt moved whenever Jasmine did. Fluid movements. The kind that made her and the dress look like one as opposed to two entities fighting for control. Her breasts neither bulged from the top nor disappeared into oblivion. There was enough flesh and cleavage to be sexy without vulgarity. And her arms! They miraculously didn’t look fat, which was Jasmine’s biggest issue with strapless gowns.
None of that compared to the detail on the skirt.
The whole dress wasn’t white, although that was the dominant color. All over the skirt and crawling from the waistline up were light gold leaves sewn directly into the fabric. It created a golden illusion, like a burst of sunset breaking through a cloudy sky. The train was long enough to look regal without dragging half the dress on the ground. The bow beneath the back buttons blended seamlessly into the rest of the look.
But it wasn’t until the assistant pulled back Jasmine’s hair and put a tiara on her head that she started to cry.
“See? I told you.” Bonita sniffed. “I am the best. Even this girl can look like a princess.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t imply something about her, Bonita.”
“Don’t pretend, sweets. I say everything I think.”
“So I’ve always noticed.”
“Well?” Bonita asked, louder. “Isn’t this the dress you will lose your last name in?”
It was such a gruff way to put it, but Jasmine could only think of Ethan’s face when he saw her in this dress. I would be good enough. Good enough to call me his bride. More tears began to fall down Jasmine’s face. Tears of happiness, of course, but she did not expect them so soon, let alone this weekend. She looked over her shoulder and nodded to both Bonita and Adrienne. “This is the first dress to make me feel like a bride,” she said.
Bonita scoffed, because of course it was. Adrienne, on the other hand, grinned and told Jasmine that she was the most beautiful bride in Europe.
“We must make alterations, of course,” Bonita said, summoning a different assistant to take notes. “Hold still while we measure you, sweets. Then we’ll make sure all the alterations are made before your wedding. I’ll come to America myself to fit it on you.”
“You only offer that because Jasmine’s your ticket to wowing Americans.”
“No kidding?” The designer put her hand on Jasmine’s bare shoulder, studying her breasts and waist and how they fit in the dress. “If this Jasmine is marrying a man as big as you say he is, then my design will be all over the American papers. You are my big break, sweets, and I will never forget… this dress.”
Fifteen minutes later, Bonita was satisfied with the numbers written in the notes and instructed her assistants to get Jasmine out of the dress. However, before anyone could leave, she told Adrienne and Jasmine to wait on the bench while business was discussed in the back corner of the studio.
“I’m happy for you,” Adrienne said, fanning herself with her address book, “and for myself, because now I can spend the rest of my weekend relaxing with Italian wine and fashion.”
Jasmine was still reeling from the sight of her in that dress. I can feel it on my skin, even now. How silky it felt. How luscious the design was. How it moved with such graceful airs that it felt like it weighed nothing at all. Now that was the kind of dress she could get married in.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, facing Adrienne.
“Of course I did. Seeing your demeanor was worth it.”
“You don’t mean that…”
“Why wouldn’t I? I couldn’t very well let you get married without the perfect dress, now could I? So I called Bonita and told her that if she could get you dressed for a high-profile American wedding, there would be a lot in it for her. That’s the language she really speaks.”
Jasmine ignored that. “I mean… you didn’t have to do this because you barely know me. As far as you’re concerned, I’m your ex-boyfriend’s new fling.”
“You say that so flippantly.” Adrienne put her address book back in her purse. “I’ve told you before. If I thought you weren’t a good match for Ethan, I would’ve made that clear from the beginning. The fact I’m bringing you all the way out here should say something, I hope.”
“But… why?” That was the question burning in the back of Jasmine’s mind ever since she first met Adrienne in Ethan’s office.
“Why would I like you? I told you that…”
“No. Why did you say no?”
They were silent, Adrienne absorbing that question as if she weren’t certain Jasmine meant what she did. “You mean… why did I say no to Ethan’s proposal all those years ago.”
Something was lodged in Jasmine’s throat, and it wasn’t her tears of happiness. “I ask because even he couldn’t answer that, you know.”
“I’m sure.” Adrienne crossed her legs, away from Jasmine. Here came the walls building between them. I’m so dumb. This woman had gone out of her way to make sure Jasmine had the perfect wedding dress, and now that woman was dredging up some powerful memories. Not the fun kind, either. “That was a long time ago.”
“You really surprised him. To be honest, he was a train wreck on the emotional front when I met him. A whole five supposed years after you guys broke up.”
“Like I can take responsibility for a man throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get what he wanted.”
Jasmine looked askance at her. Was that supposed to be said out loud?
“You want the simple answer?” Adrienne asked. “Or do you want the long and convoluted one?”
“I have no idea.”
“The simple answer is that he and I weren’t compatible.” Adrienne pulled a tissue from her purse and began ripping it apart between fidgety fingers. “I had known it for a long time, but kept putting off a breakup because I knew it would be messy. Yet when the man proposes to you… whoa.”
“You didn’t expect that?”
“He told me it felt wrong to choose an engagement ring for you. So he bought several for you to choose.” Jasmine wouldn’t say that he had replicated the same situation for her. “I think he was implying that you’re so independent.”
“It’s true. That’s how it happened.” Adrienne sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, Jasmine. I did love him. Just not like that.”
“Apparently he loved you that way.”
“Is that my fault?”
Jasmine moved down the bench. Hurricane Adrienne about to come to land. “No, of course not. I only meant…”
“The long and complicated answer is that I could’ve never been happy with him in the long run. Not romantically.”
“I see.”
“We had some good times, don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret my relationship with him. I regret how it had to end, since I should’ve ended it the moment I knew it wasn’t going to work. I am sorry for how he took it and what it did to his personal relationships until he met you, but it would’ve been worse had we actually married. We would’ve been divorced by now. Definitely not business partners. This was the best way it could have gone, for the both of us.”
Jasmine almost didn’t want to ask, but felt compelled. “Why weren’t you two compatible?”
Adrienne shifted in her seat, probably wondering what was taking Bonita so damn long. “When I met Ethan, he was only starting to get into the whole… you know. Thing.”
“Ah.”
“I’m not that into it. That would’ve put a strain on things right there. It already had.”
“I see.”
Apparently Jasmine had uncorked something in Adrienne, for she continued, “Plus, I know that even he couldn’t satisfy my own inclinations long enough. I don’t stick with one person for very long. Ethan was one of my longest relationships ever, and that’s only because we got along great as friends. When I realized that I cared more about our conversations and parties than spending time alone… like that… I knew it was only a matter of time before the shit hit the fan and he was getting mad because I kept putting off sex. You know how he gets.”
“Sure.” Ha. Hahahaha!
“It’s not his fault, Jasmine. I’m not saying there’s something awful about him. He just wasn’t what I needed in a partner, let alone a husband. I spent most of my twenties trying to figure out who I am while building my business. Now I’m spending my thirties doing fuckall I know.”
“Is that why it didn’t work with your assistant?”
“Ha! He was a plaything from the beginning. Not even a very good assistant. I grew bored of him to the point of tears. Too meek and submissive. Lesson learned. Told him to go to that sex club and try his luck with a Domme. You might see him around there.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Enough about me. This is your weekend, Jasmine. We may have gotten you a dress, but that doesn’t mean the party’s over!”
Bonita chose that moment to come back, peppering so much Italian into her sentences that only Adrienne could understand her. Something about taking three weeks to do the alterations. Would personally escort the dress to America to fit on Jasmine in her home. More details to come later.
Bonita completely switched to Italian at the end of her explanation, placing a hand on Adrienne’s shoulder. “Sei molto sensibile quando ti tocco. Andiamo a casa tua o a casa mia?”
Adrienne blushed. The assistant standing behind Bonita blushed harder before turning away. Jasmine had no idea what was going on, and didn’t care. She could see her future wedding gown on a mannequin a few feet away, and it was calling to her, saying, “You are so getting married in me.”
***
“I’m glad you were able to find a dress,” Ethan said on the phone later that night. “Adrienne always knows how to come through on those things. I knew how important this was, so I gave her my blessing to take some time off to help you out. Even though I could really use her here…”
Jasmine stepped out of her suite and stood in the middle of the common area. It was eleven at night, and after a big day of shopping and eating the most filling Italian meal in the world, the girls were getting ready to fly out the next afternoon. Adrienne had gone downstairs for drinks with someone before coming back while Jasmine was in the shower. There was a Do Not Disturb sign on her bedroom door. Someone was getting her beauty rest.
“It’s so gorgeous, Ethan, I can’t wait for you to see it.” Just like Jasmine wished he could see the view from the common room window. Much better than the one in her room.
Something thumped in Adrienne’s room.
“What was that?” Jasmine took a closer look. “Hang on a sec, Ethan.”
“Don’t keep me waiting too long. I have to be back in that boardroom in five minutes.”
Another thump, followed by a long, low moan.
“Oh my…” Jasmine backed away. “So, your business partner has a new friend in her room.” Was it the person she went down to see earlier? “Things sound pretty heated in there.”
“You’re listening in, huh?”
“Not anymore.” Jasmine kept to her side of the suite, grabbing a drink from the small kitchen before disappearing back into her room, where she couldn’t hear a thing. “Good for her, though. She told me she broke up with her assistant.”
“Good thing, too. That guy sucked.”
“You never said that before.”
“I didn’t want to speak ill of my business partner’s current fuck buddy.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anyway, I need to get going. Have fun in Milan, my flower. Tell me all about it when you get back. Oh, and bring some…”
After they hung up, Jasmine began her nightly routine to prepare for bed. She wanted to be able to get up early enough to enjoy some last bits of Milan before the long flight back home.
An hour had gone by since last walking into the common area. Jasmine figured it was probably safe to go out there to take some photos of the Milan cityscape.
Indeed, things were quiet as she stood in front of the large windows and took picture after picture on her phone. Don’t get to see a view like this very often. Well, not international ones. Jasmine was making it a point to enjoy everywhere she went around the world. Before meeting Ethan, it would have never been a possibility.
The door to Adrienne’s suite opened. Jasmine kept her nose pointed to her phone. None of her business what went on in there.
“Ah, ciao, Jasmine.”
That burly accent went straight up Jasmine’s spine. “C… ciao…” She turned, facing a woman already taking out a cigarette – but no lighter, at least.
“Tell that fidanzato of yours that he was a fool to leave such a lovely woman. No offense, of course.” Bonita saw herself out of the hotel suite, lighting up the moment she was free.
Jasmine let out a huge breath. The door to Adrienne’s suite was still closed, and would remain so until the morning. What a wild and crazy world we live in. Naturally, Jasmine’s first inclination was to take to her room and her phone, sending a rapid series of texts to the one friend she had who would be interested in this. Making sure that she knew this was highly confidential, of course.
“What do you mean why didn’t I tell you? For fuck’s sake, Jasmine, I don’t keep tabs on who’s gaying it up around the office and who is all about the cock. I keep my nose down.”
“And in pussy, apparently. Are you still in San Diego?”
“Um…”
“Where the fuck are you?”
“May or may not be in Hong Kong.”
“I hate you so much.”
“Says the woman who was taken to Milan to buy a designer wedding dress.”
“Well, you know…”
“No, I don’t!”
Jasmine put her phone down with only a low whistle to keep her company.
Chapter 5
Ethan
leaned back in his chair and stretched. “I don’t see why I should care what kind of people she is cavorting with. Aside from you, of course.”
Jasmine, who remained perched on his desk, picked up one of his files and thumbed through it. Yuck. Taxes. Seemed like Ethan was always dealing with taxes. This was a man who donated to a million charities and off-shore accounts, and yet still spent millions in taxes like some people spent money in their everyday lives. “I’m not saying you should care. Only that it might affect things at work, right?”
“It’s none of my business.” Ethan put his hands down, gripping the rests of his chair. “Unless she makes it my business… yet I can’t imagine her doing that. Yikes.”
“Maybe she’s rebounding.”
“From what?”
Jasmine shrugged. “I just want her to come out and say who she’s traveling around with!”
“As long as Nadia’s back at work by Wednesday like she said she would be, I don’t care.” Ethan matched her shrug. “No skin off my back if…”
“If she ends up being Monica’s sister-in-law a year from now?”
“Hold up. What?”
“Think about it. If she and Eva Warren end up serious, that could make Nadia Monica’s sister-in-law one day.” Gay marriage livening up one of the most established old money families in the region? Sign Jasmine the fuck up. She better make me a bridesmaid. I want an upfront and personal view of that ceremony. It would be so sophisticatedly garish that Jasmine would end up in a Givenchy dress that hugged her ass and had her tits spilling out from every spare nook and cranny. I can’t wait. It better happen.
Ethan caught the shit-eating grin on her face. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Last I checked, Nadia was making excuses to not be around the office whenever Ms. Warren was around.” Neither Nadia nor Ethan kept it a secret that Eva often showed up at the Thomas-Cole offices to do business on her family’s behalf. “I was starting to wonder if I would have to have a talk with Ms. Warren. Through Monica, of course.”