Someone Like You

by Timothy J Beck

  “What was the idea?” Vienna asked, losing her patience.

  “She slipped a pair of her sexiest panties into the arm of one of his dry-cleaned shirts. Just to make sure he got the message, she wrote her phone number on the crotch.”

  “Were the panties clean?” Vienna asked, scandalized in spite of herself.

  “Of course!” Bianca said. “But he never called.”

  “Maybe she should have—”

  “Don’t,” Bianca said with a grimace. Then she stared wistfully at Christian and said, “So anyway, he’s probably gay. It would be just my luck. Not that it matters. He’d never go for me. I’m too—”

  “Oh, shut up,” Vienna interrupted. “You’re beautiful, and every straight man in this store wants your body. I know it. You know it. Free yourself. Have a donut. If you don’t mind, I’m taking fifteen.”

  “Donuts?” Bianca gasped.

  “Minutes.”

  Bianca didn’t mind, so Vienna crossed over into Women’s Shoes and pretended to look at a display of new merchandise while surreptitiously watching Derek, Christian, and Emily-Anne. It bothered her that Bianca knew more about Christian than she did, so Vienna was determined to learn everything she could about him. She idly thought about Christian as a potential back-up romance for Davii, who could use a little organization in his life.

  She watched as Christian strapped a pair of white sandals on Emily-Anne’s feet, while Derek stood by with an empty shoebox in his hands. Once the silver buckles were all fastened, Emily-Anne crossed her legs, admiring the sandals.

  “Christian, they’re beautiful,” she purred. “I was right to get in touch with you.”

  “I didn’t design them,” Christian joked. Vienna rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at humor and noticed that, across the floor, Natasha was mirroring her. Vienna carefully moved behind a nearby column to stay out of Natasha’s line of sight. She heard Christian say, “The heels are pretty high. Try walking in them.”

  Vienna couldn’t see what was going on, but after a pause, she heard a clattering noise, followed by Emily-Anne squealing, “Oops! Sorry!”

  Vienna peeked around the column to see Derek and Natasha rushing to a table that Emily-Anne had apparently bumped into. Shoes were tottering and falling off stands, raining down and hitting the floor like fashionable hailstones.

  “Don’t worry about it. It happens all day,” Derek said while picking up shoes.

  Natasha was also grabbing at shoes. Then she wrenched a pair of yellow mules from Derek’s hands and snarled, “I’ll take care of these! Help your clients.”

  Christian, who’d observed the scene from the sofa as if he was at home watching a sitcom, laughed silently with his hands over his mouth. He turned and spotted Vienna, who quickly picked up a shoe and began examining it. She realized it was a hideously ugly orthopedic-looking loafer and dropped it back on the shelf as if it had bitten her.

  “These would look fabulous by the pool. I have to have them,” Emily-Anne said, returning to the sofa. She kissed Christian on the cheek and exclaimed, “I love them!”

  Vienna was shocked at the familiarity implied by the kiss and didn’t know how to interpret it. Was Christian buying the shoes for her? Were they having an affair? Or was Emily-Anne a gal pal bussing her gay friend? Vienna was more intrigued than ever.

  “I’ll add them to the pile,” Derek said.

  “Actually, these would look even better poolside,” Christian said, producing a pair of blue-and-pink-flower-patterned mules with a huge Lucite wedge.

  “What goes on at her pool?” Vienna whispered to herself.

  “Should I ask how much?” Emily-Anne asked Derek, then giggled.

  Derek said, “They’re only a hundred and fifty dollars.”

  Christian looked pleased with Derek’s response, as he added, “That’s nothing.”

  “Yeah, but in addition to all those,” Emily-Anne said, pointing to the pile of shoeboxes, “I must have over a thousand dollars in shoes so far.”

  Vienna was aghast; Emily-Anne’s new shoe collection cost more than Vienna’s rent. Surely, Christian couldn’t afford to buy her that many pairs of shoes. Maybe she was a client. A man that into shoes had to be gay.

  “And they’re worth every penny,” Christian stated. “You’re worth every penny. Try on the wedges.”

  Emily-Anne shrugged and put the shoes on her feet. She stared at them silently.

  “What do you think?” Derek prodded. “Will they work with what you need them for?”

  Emily-Anne smirked and said, “I don’t know. Let me see.”

  She flopped onto her back on the sofa and lifted her feet in the air. Vienna’s mouth fell open, as did Derek’s. Christian laughed out loud and said, “Oh, come on! That can’t be true.”

  “You’re right,” Emily-Anne agreed. “That’s what my Louis Vuitton shoes are for!”

  Laughing at her own joke, Emily-Anne, whose feet were still in the air, suddenly kicked, launching a shoe from her foot. Vienna, Derek, and Christian followed the blue-and-pink-flowered wedge’s trajectory, watching it sail across the store like a football over a playing field. It was easily a thirty-yard pass, and Vienna was impressed. The wedge finally succumbed to gravity and arced down toward the replica of Mrs. Lvandsson’s loom, which was positioned in the middle of the store, by the escalators.

  “Girl,” Vienna quietly drawled.

  “Uh-oh,” Christian said.

  “What?” Emily-Anne asked, rising to a seated position and looking around. “Where did it—”

  She was cut off as the wedge crashed loudly into the loom, reducing it to kindling. Several customers leaped away in terror, one of them knocking over a pair of nearby mannequins, another upsetting a counter display.

  Emily-Anne bit her bottom lip in embarrassment, then said, “I think my Drayden’s account just increased.”

  “Don’t worry. It happens all the time,” Derek said.

  “I don’t think anyone was hurt. Pay it no mind,” Christian said sweetly. “Forget the mules and look at what I found. I was thinking this pair would go with the blue gown you just bought.”

  Vienna peered around the column again, and her eyes widened as she watched Christian slip another pair of stilettos onto Emily-Anne’s feet. The sandals had intricately woven straps crossing over the instep that were beaded with blue and clear crystals, a toe loop with one large blue crystal on top, and long satin straps that wound around and tied at the ankle in a bow. Vienna stared, coveting them, and wondered how much they cost.

  “They’re five hundred and twenty dollars,” Derek suddenly said, as if reading Vienna’s mind.

  “Those are Swarovski crystals. That’s actually a good price,” Christian hastily added. “There must be a purse that goes with them.”

  Derek, catching the hint, said, “I’ll find out,” and hastened toward Accessories on the other side of the store. He didn’t get too far, because he spotted Vienna loitering behind the column and hissed, “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at shoes,” she calmly replied. “I’m on a break.”

  “You look like you’re spying on me,” Derek said suspiciously.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Vienna indignantly responded. “You’d better hurry up and find that purse.”

  Derek frowned at her but hurried away. While he was gone, Vienna turned back to watch the Christian and Emily-Anne Show, but instead found herself on display, as they were now staring at her.

  “I said, what do you think?” Emily-Anne asked.

  “Me? Uh, what size are you?” Vienna stammered before she knew what she was saying.

  Emily-Anne looked horrified and said, “Size nine. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Dammit, so am I,” Vienna muttered, wishing she’d seen the shoes first. Even with her discount, however, she could never afford them, so she quickly composed herself and said, “They look fantastic on you. Of course, I don’t know what your dress looks like, bu
t they’d make anyone and any outfit look like a million bucks.”

  “Thank you,” Emily-Anne replied. Christian winked at Vienna, who tried to look blasé, since she mistrusted winkers. “I think they’ll be perfect, Christian. What would I do without you?”

  Save money, stay at home, and stop risking other people’s lives, Vienna thought.

  Emily-Anne walked to a mirror on the other side of the sales floor. Vienna used the opportunity to say, “You really know your shoes.”

  “I just fake it really well,” Christian said. “Clothes are basically an extension of our personalities. It’s all a matter of finding clothes that match a client’s personality.”

  “So she’s a client?” Vienna asked, gesturing subtly toward Emily-Anne, who was surveying the shoes from every angle in the mirror and asking other people for their opinions.

  “Emily-Anne’s a new client, yes,” Christian answered. “This is our first meeting, if you can believe it. She’s not what I imagined at all. But I like her. She’s fun.” Vienna nodded, happy to have one question answered, but still wondering about Christian’s sexuality. “What happened to your job at Mercury Man?” Christian continued. “That’s the last place I remember seeing you.”

  “Oh, good,” Vienna said. “I was worried you’d only remember me as the klutz who crashed into you this morning. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Christian said gallantly, then he imitated Derek, saying, “It happens all the time.” When she snickered, he added, “It was my pleasure.”

  Vienna was about to ask a leading question loaded with innuendo when Derek jogged up to them, slightly out of breath, holding a small handbag encrusted with blue and clear crystals. Emily-Anne rejoined them and exclaimed, “What a cute purse! I love it. These will match the gown perfectly.” She sat down to remove the shoes.

  “Perfect. Well done, Derek,” Christian praised, taking the bag from him and adding it to the pile of shoes. “Maybe we could get you a little help carrying all this stuff to the register. Excuse me, Natasha?”

  Natasha turned around with an expression that bore a striking resemblance to an African funeral mask that had hung in the office of one of Vienna’s former colleagues. Vienna turned back to the shelves of shoes circling the column, hoping to go unnoticed.

  “Yes?” Natasha hissed.

  “Would you be a lamb and help Derek with these boxes? Thank you so much,” Christian said, not waiting for a favorable response. Emily-Anne looked at her loot with affection, oblivious to Natasha’s withering gaze, as Derek began carrying an armful of shoeboxes to the cash wrap. When Natasha begrudgingly began to help, Christian linked arms with Emily-Anne and led her toward the registers, but not before adding, “Mind the purse, Natasha. We don’t want any crystals popping off.”

  Before she could catch herself, Vienna sniggered audibly. In a second, Natasha was standing up and staring at her. She said dryly, “Miss Talbot, shouldn’t you be behind a counter hawking lipstick?”

  “I’m on a break,” Vienna said, hoping Natasha wouldn’t realize that she’d been there for nearly a half hour.

  “How nice for you that we have such lenient labor laws in this state and that you have a department manager with a lackadaisical attitude toward the rules. I’m sure if I looked behind your counter, I wouldn’t find any food at all. Correct?”

  “It’s past noon. By now, it’s surely all been eaten or disposed of,” Vienna said. Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and her face slowly burned scarlet. Vienna thought about asking her to get a pair of shoes to try on but decided not to push her luck. Instead she said, “I’ll let you get back to work. That’s quite a sale Derek made, isn’t it? See ya!”

  Vienna hurried back to her counter, relieving Bianca, who dashed to the women’s restroom. Fifteen minutes later, she watched as Christian and Emily-Anne left Women’s Shoes. Vienna picked up her phone and dialed Derek’s extension.

  “Thank you for calling Drayden’s shoe salon. This—”

  “Hi, it’s me,” Vienna interrupted.

  “Hello,” Derek said a little too enthusiastically.

  Vienna looked across the store and saw Natasha standing next to him, drumming her fingers on the counter and fuming. “Oh, crap. I think I pissed off the dragon lady. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “No. We don’t accept that coupon here,” Derek said.

  “I’ll make it up to you with lunch,” Vienna offered.

  “That could be arranged,” Derek said. “But it might take some time.”

  “She’s going to saddle you with some heinous task, isn’t she?” Vienna guessed.

  “That’s correct. Let me check to see if we have that shoe in stock, and I’ll call you back later,” Derek said. “Let me take down your number.”

  “That number is one eight hundred your manager is a bitch,” Vienna replied. “Call me when you can get away.”

  Later, in Bert’s Bar & Grille, Vienna treated Derek to lunch. Derek was aggressively cutting into his steak and complaining about Natasha. “Then she had me relocate all the high heels from downstairs to upstairs,” Derek griped. “It would’ve taken me over an hour if our stock guy hadn’t risked his job to help me.”

  “I had no idea there are two levels to your stockroom,” Vienna said dreamily. “All those shoes. So little time.”

  “I can’t stand that evil woman,” Derek said, tearing into his steak again.

  “Slow down and enjoy your food. You’re tearing into that thing as if it were Natasha’s heart,” Vienna said.

  “Don’t be silly,” Derek said before taking a bite. “She doesn’t have one.”

  “Oh, yeah, what was I thinking?” Vienna said. “If you hate her so badly, why don’t you transfer to another department? Or just quit?”

  Derek swallowed and answered, “I tried that. There are no openings in any other departments. And I can’t quit. I need this job.”

  Vienna looked skeptical as she said, “I don’t want to risk offending you, but come on, Derek. You live in the Congreve with your boyfriend, who just happens to be a Congreve.”

  “Yeah, and you have alimony,” Derek snapped. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as Derek cut into his steak again and Vienna toyed with her Cobb salad. Finally Derek said, “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

  “Not to mention incorrect,” Vienna stated. “I don’t receive alimony. Can I have your steak knife?”

  “Why?”

  “There’s a certain hairdresser that I need to murder,” she coolly answered. When Derek stared at her, aghast, she said, “No matter. Using his own scissors would be more poetic.”

  “He told me when I was getting my hair cut,” Derek explained. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Davii told me in confidence.”

  “I told him in confidence!” Vienna shrieked, causing several of their fellow diners to look her way. “I’m sorry. I’m losing control of my base emotions. I need water.” She took a long drink of water, swept her red and black braids back, and said, “I’m fine. No harm’s been done. And I’m sorry for my assumptions about your situation.”

  “No harm, no foul,” Derek agreed. “Besides, I’d say we’re even now for you getting me in trouble with Natasha.”

  “Her emotional and irrational behavior is beyond my—” Vienna stopped when she saw Derek’s sour expression and hastily said, “Fine. We’re even. Tell me about this Christian guy. He obviously can’t stand Natasha either. I like that in a man. When did you meet him?”

  Vienna listened as Derek related his story. She took notice of how Derek’s eyes lit up when he talked about Christian, how he leaned forward as he spoke, and how he stopped eating altogether as he waited for her reaction.

  “He sounds like a nice person,” Vienna said.

  “He seems to be,” Derek agreed, still not eating. “It was definitely nice of him to bring Emily-Anne Barrister to me and help my sales.”

  “Eat your steak. We’re running out of time,” Vienna urged,
watching as Derek seemed to come back to earth, realizing there was food in front of him and why it was there. “Christian’s an attractive man, isn’t he? Do you think he’s gay?”

  “I have no idea,” Derek said.

  “I mean, he knows about fashion. He doesn’t mix stripes with plaid. He’s attractive,” Vienna stated. “He’s got to be gay.”

  “You think?” Derek asked.

  “Do you want him to be gay?” Vienna asked.

  “I don’t know!” Derek exclaimed. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”

  Vienna knew he was shutting down, so she said, “I don’t know. I just think he’s really attractive.”

  Derek nodded slowly and said, “Oh, I get it. You’re hoping he’s not gay.”

  “That’s not it at all,” Vienna calmly argued. “It seemed to me that you were open to the idea of Christian possibly being gay. That’s all.” Derek stared at her. Vienna reached over to take his hand and said, “I know your pride is bigger than my hair, and you’d never admit to me that your current relationship has problems. But if you ever want to discuss it, I’ll listen. I’m only prying right now because I know someone who’s interested in you.”

  Derek looked surprised and somewhat pleased as he asked, “Who? Not that guy who sells perfume at Drayden’s, I hope. He’s nice, but he’s not my type.”

  “No. I know that,” Vienna said. She wondered fleetingly if she should keep quiet and not complicate the lives of her two friends. Then she remembered how Davii had spilled her secret. “It’s Davii. He wants you bad.”

  “Davii?” Derek said. He looked stunned and repeated, “Davii? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Why would I? He’s a guy. You’re a guy. Makes sense to me,” Vienna said.

  “He flirts a lot when we get together, but I never thought of him that way,” Derek said.

  “Oh, trust me, he’s a guy.”

  “But he’s so…”

  “What?” Vienna prompted. “Bitchy? Arrogant? Tall? Italian?”