Chapter 9
Nine
ZOE / VICTORIA
The news of Victoria Everett taking her coffee-soaked assistant shopping spread through the office faster than a stock market crash. By the time we reached the elevator, we’d somehow acquired an entourage.
“Mrs. Everett!” Madison hurried over, practically vibrating with excitement. “Lucy and Kelly and I were wondering if… that is, if you wouldn’t mind… since it’s our lunch break anyway…”
I glanced at Sam, who was tapping furiously on her tablet. She gave me a small shrug that clearly said, Your circus, your monkeys.
“The more the merrier,” I said, earning gasps from the small crowd of assistants gathering near the elevator. “Though fair warning—I plan to introduce Sophia to the concept of colors beyond beige. It might get intense.”
Sophia clutched her coffee-stained blouse. “I like beige,” she protested weakly. “It’s… professional.”
“Honey, even my old waitressing uniform had more personality than your current wardrobe, and that was designed to disappear into the background.” The words slipped out before I could catch them. “I mean… um…”
But the girls were too excited to notice my slip. Madison was already texting Claire at reception to join us during her break, and I could see at least three other assistants hovering hopefully nearby, all of them clearly ready to make the most of their lunch hour.
“Fifth Avenue?” Sam asked, her fingers poised over her tablet.
I thought about Victoria’s usual shopping haunts—exclusive boutiques with more security than merchandise, where everything cost more than my old annual salary. Then I thought about the looks on these girls’ faces if I dragged them there.
“Actually,” I said, thinking of Grace’s Boutique—the place Victoria had so snobbishly dismissed in The CEO’s Bargain, calling it beneath the Hayes family standard.
Any place that could ruffle Victoria’s perfectly coiffed feathers was worth investigating in my book.
“I have a better idea. We’re going on an adventure. ”
The elevator doors opened, and I gestured everyone inside like a slightly coffee-stained fairy godmother. “Alright, ladies, let Operation: Make Sophia Sparkle commence. And yes,” I added as Madison’s hand shot up, “we can stop for proper coffee on the way. The kind we drink, not wear.”
When we reached the lobby, Claire was already waiting. She bounced over to join our group, her excitement matching Madison’s as she fell into step with us.
Our exit from Everett Tower was like a scene from a movie—if that movie was about a coffee-stained socialite leading a parade of excited assistants through Manhattan on their lunch break.
Heads turned in the lobby as our little group made its way to the entrance, whispers and phones following our progress.
“Did you see?—”
“Is that Mrs. Everett with?—”
Sam somehow managed to look both professional and long-suffering as she guided our impromptu parade through the revolving doors.
“First stop,” I announced.
The baristas at the artisanal coffee shop did a double take when our group swept in. I couldn’t blame them—it probably looked like a very confused corporate field trip.
Twenty minutes and several elaborate coffee orders later, we arrived at Grace’s Boutique, tucked away on a quiet street. The window display was a study in understated elegance, though the store itself looked worryingly empty.
The owner, a chic woman in her sixties, nearly dropped her tablet when we walked in. “Mrs. Everett?” she stammered, clearly trying to figure out why Manhattan’s elite socialite was standing in her modest boutique with coffee stains on her clothes.
“Grace, right?” I read from the small nameplate on her blouse. “Please tell me you have something that doesn’t smell like a coffee explosion.”
“I… of course, but…” She glanced uncertainly between me and my entourage of assistants. “We’re not quite what you usually… that is, our pieces are more…”
“Affordable?” I supplied cheerfully. “Perfect. Because I’m buying for everyone today.”
Madison and Lucy exchanged uncertain glances. Claire was already running her fingers reverently over a gorgeous blazer.
“Go on,” I urged them. “Try things on. Live a little. Consider it a thank you for all your hard work. The company wouldn’t run half as smoothly without you all.”
Half an hour later, the small boutique looked like a fashion magazine had exploded in the best possible way.
Sophia had discovered she actually had a waist under all those boxy suits.
Claire was strutting around in a power blazer that made her look like she should be running the company instead of manning reception.
Madison and Lucy and Kelly were taking selfies in dresses that probably cost less than their weekly coffee budget but looked like they belonged on a runway.
“Mrs. Everett,” Lucy called out, twirling in a blue dress that made her eyes pop. “This is amazing, but I really shouldn’t…”
“Put it with the others,” I said firmly, nodding to the growing pile of yes items. Their protests had gotten weaker as they realized I was serious about buying everything.
“But—” Claire started.
“Consider it a bonus for all your dedication.” I waved off their protests. “Besides,” I added with a wink, “what’s the point of being married to a billionaire if you can’t occasionally play fairy godmother?”
Sam, who had been quietly adding up the totals on her tablet, gave me a look that clearly said we were well beyond occasionally and entering fairy godmother gone wild territory.
I was about to try on Olivia Drake’s design—the store’s main fashion line, created by Grace’s talented niece—when I noticed Grace sorting through some boxes in the corner, pulling out more pieces that made my inner fashionista sit up and take notice.
“These are all Olivia’s work?” I asked, running my fingers over a particularly ingenious seam detail. “Your niece has incredible talent.”
“Yes.” Grace sighed. “She has such vision, and we built this boutique around her designs, but the bigger stores… they want established names. And after six months of barely any sales…” She straightened her shoulders. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear about our troubles.”
“Actually,” I said, slipping into the dressing room with Olivia’s two-piece ensemble, “I think I do.”
When I emerged, the entire store went quiet. Even Sam looked up from her tablet.
“Oh my,” Grace breathed.
The outfit was perfect—a high-waisted pencil skirt with subtle geometric details at the hem, paired with a cream silk blouse that somehow managed to be both professional and edgy. The craftsmanship was impeccable, the design innovative without being overwhelming.
“How much do you have of Olivia’s collection?” I asked, turning to examine the fit in the mirror. It was like the outfit had been made for me—which was saying something, considering Victoria’s body was definitely not my usual fit.
“A… a full line. But?—”
“I’ll take it all.”
Grace’s tablet clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The whole collection. Every piece.” I turned to Sam. “Can we arrange that?”
Sam was already typing. “Of course. Though perhaps we should discuss the publicity? Mrs. Everett shopping at an unknown boutique…”
I caught her meaning immediately. Victoria Everett, Manhattan’s queen of designer labels, buying from a small boutique? The society pages would have a field day.
“Perfect,” I said, watching Sophia emerge in her new outfit—a sapphire-blue pencil skirt and cream silk blouse that made her look like the heroine she was supposed to be. “Let’s make some noise.”
“Mrs. Everett,” Grace’s voice wobbled slightly. “I don’t know what to say…”
“Say you’ll call Olivia and tell her not to give up.” I checked my reflection one last time. “And maybe keep some extra stock ready. Something tells me these pieces won’t be sitting on the racks much longer.”
By the time we finished, Grace was beaming through tears, Sam had arranged for the entire collection to be delivered to various addresses, and my impromptu shopping crew was laden with bags of clothes they’d never dreamed of owning.
“Mrs. Everett,” Claire said as we prepared to leave, her voice thick with emotion, “thank you. This was…”
“If you say too much, I’m taking back that blazer,” I threatened cheerfully. “Just promise me one thing—wear these clothes like you deserve them. Because you do.”
Sam checked her watch. “We should head back. You have lunch with Mr. Everett.”
My stomach did that weird flippy thing again at the mention of lunch with Jason. I smoothed down my new outfit—Olivia Drake’s design making me feel both powerful and feminine in a way Victoria’s usual armor-like clothes never did.
As we walked back to the office, our little parade drawing even more attention than before—this time for much better reasons—I couldn’t help but smile and glanced at Sophia.
She looked radiant in her new outfit, finally looking like the heroine she was meant to be.
So why did my heart clench every time I thought about her eventual happily ever after with Jason?
* * *
Our return to Everett Tower was like a fashion show meets corporate fever dream. The security guards actually did double takes—which was something, considering they’d already witnessed Victoria’s unprecedented appearance this morning.
“Mrs. Everett!” The lobby receptionist—not Claire, who was still floating on her new-wardrobe high—actually squeaked. “You look… amazing! You look… different.”
Different was putting it mildly. Olivia Drake’s design was the perfect blend of sophistication and edge, making this morning’s coffee-stained outfit seem like a distant memory. The whispers and not-so-subtle phone cameras following our progress suggested I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“Looking good, boss lady!” someone called out as we crossed the lobby. I turned to see a janitor giving me a thumbs-up, then immediately looking mortified at his outburst.
I winked at him. The poor man nearly dropped his mop.