15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Charlotte
‘ D id he mention the colour scheme?’ Becky asked, flicking through the various dresses on the rack and pulling a face when she came across a beaded gold ensemble and held up the sleeve for me to get an eyeful.
I snorted, half at the dress and half at her question. Aiden hadn’t even mentioned the date until I’d texted him a few days ago to ask. And the dress? I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I couldn’t stop my nose from crinkling in distaste. Evidently, someone thought that the organza skirt and gold beaded bodice would make a beautiful combination. Someone was wrong, but who was I to poo-poo someone’s hard work?
‘No,’ I sighed, moving towards another rack in the store. ‘He answered my questions on details… but didn’t offer up anything extra.’
‘Does his payment plan charge per character?’ Becky asked wryly.
I frowned, pulling out a dress of deep blue velvet. ‘What do you think?’ I asked, holding the dress up in front of me.
‘Boring,’ she answered, not even bothering to turn around.
I smiled and returned the dress to the rack. I’d missed this. Well, not this specifically. But I missed hanging out with Becky. We saw each other whenever she came down to London, but it wasn’t the same as when she still lived here. There was always this sense of underlying urgency, like every moment had to be perfect because it was finite. And finality introduced a lot of pressure. I ran a finger across the different fabrics in front of me, grateful that I wasn’t doing this alone.
‘You just don’t want to match the bridal party,’ Becky piped up.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well,’ Becky said, taking a seat on one of the plush armchairs in the centre of the showroom. ‘Matching the bridesmaids could cause confusion… I mean, you’re not in the bridal party, so why do you look like them? Why are you trying so hard?’
I felt my eyes widen as I moved to take a seat across from Becky.
‘That’s a thing ?’
Becky nodded sagely, and I dropped my head into my hands, letting out a frustrated groan. ‘I really don’t want to have to message him again.’
‘Maybe you won’t have to.’
I peered through the fingers covering my face. ‘Explain.’
‘Well,’ Becky leaned back into the armchair, crossing one leg over the other and growing pensive. ‘There’s gotta be a way to figure out what colours are safe, right?’
I nodded.
‘We’re smart girls, you’re a hotshot lawyer and I am… fabulous,’ she said with a wry laugh. ‘We can figure this out.’
I chewed on my lower lip and watched the gears turning behind Becky’s eyes. I may be the “hot shot lawyer”, but I was in way over my head.
‘Got it!’ Becky smacked her hands together, the sound loud enough to draw a withering glare from the shop assistant.
‘Sorry,’ I mouthed to the assistant, shrugging my shoulders in a “what can you do” kind of way. The assistant let out a ‘hmph’ and thrust her nose into the air before turning away. I could feel my cheeks heating as I turned back to Becky.
‘Come on, Charlotte,’ Becky laughed, shrugging good-naturedly, ‘we’re practically the only ones in here. Don’t let Miss Snooty over there get to you.’
‘You mentioned an idea?’
‘Yes!’ Becky’s face lit up. ‘We work by process of elimination.’
‘I’m listening.’ I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back into my chair.
‘Well, obviously you can’t wear anything that falls within the vicinity of white—’
‘Duh.’ Sure, I’d never been to a wedding, but I wasn’t a complete idiot.
‘And the wedding is in winter…’ she drew out that last word as if she expected me to come to the same conclusion she had, but my lightbulb of the moment remained resolutely dark.
With a playfully exasperated sigh, Becky flopped down into the space on the loveseat beside me.
‘All we need to do,’ Becky said, taking one of my hands and giving it a small squeeze, ‘is rule out anything close to white, black, and any colours that could be used for a winter wedding.’
‘So no jewel tones,’ Becky continued, ‘and probably best to avoid anything velvet. It’s horribly static anyway, so no huge loss there.’
‘Becky,’ I breathed, ‘you’re a genius!’
***
Smoothing the fabric of my dress over my hips, I gave myself a final once-over in the hallway mirror. We’d found the dress in the fifth shop of the day. Becky had been right. Once we’d settled on the colours to avoid, it was far easier to find something.
We’d settled on a dress in a soft lilac colour that complimented the cooler undertones of my skin. The tastefully low sweetheart neckline and capped sleeves accentuated my tall frame. That paired with the dress’s corseted bodice was enough to give the illusion of a cleavage that I was very much lacking.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, turning my head to the right and back again before hastily untucking it. We’d decided that having my hair down would be the best option and would help me feel more comfortable with the dress’s low cut back while still looking “hot as hell”—Becky’s words, not mine.
We’d agreed to meet out front—it didn’t make sense for him to come up to my apartment, only for us to both go back down. Reaching over to the small console table, I picked up the cream-coloured clutch that I’d be taking with me, the opal of Mum’s ring glinting at me as I snapped open the clasp to do a third, and final, check of its contents. Phone? Check. Spare Charger? Check. Keys? Check. Lipstick? Check. Tissues? Check check!
Padding over to the sofa where Oscar eyed me suspiciously, I planted a series of loud, lip-smacking kisses onto his face and nose. He stalked away from me, throwing a disgruntled ‘meow’ over his shoulders that pulled a strained chuckle from my tight chest. Taking a deep breath, I filled my cheeks with a mouthful of air before blowing it out in a steady stream.
I’d been kept late in the office every night this past week, attempting to douse the flames of the dumpster fire that had been lit under one of my deals. It was stressful and exhausting, but it meant that I’d been too busy to think about seeing Aiden again.
Strapping on the cream kitten heels I’d bought for the occasion, I grabbed a thick woollen coat from the closet in the entryway. It was supposed to be warm this weekend—as warm as it could be in late October—but I didn’t want to be caught out and spend the night shivering like a wet Chihuahua.
I pressed the button to call up the elevator, frowning at the small flutter in my abdomen. Laying a hand over my stomach, I tried to squash some of the butterflies that had taken off at the prospect of seeing Aiden again. No. Not about seeing Aiden. The butterflies were about the lie I was about to tell. The lie and not the man. I needed to get it together.
The elevator lurched to a stop, but it was the sight of the man in front of me that had my knees almost buckling. Aiden stood with his back to me, his shape framed in the mid-morning light. The skies were a warm orangey-pink as opposed to London’s usual grey. Jesus. All that was missing was a few birds flying off in the distance and a breeze to ruffle his hair and he could be the heartthrob from Secretary Kim .
His dark wavy hair had been brushed back, and the sharp lines of his suit drew my eyes to the broad expanse of his back. That was definitely not off the rack.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Holy hell. What was it about men in suits? Becky had teased me, on more than one occasion, that I’d only gone into law because of the prospect of seeing men in suits all day every day. It wasn’t true—and even if it had been, the men I’d worked with had personalities that not even a suit could overcome. But Aiden—
‘I, uh, I thought we were meeting in the parking lot?’ I asked, smoothing a hand over my hair.
Aiden spun around to face me, his eyes glued to the phone in his hand.
‘You don’t know what I drive so I—’ his words faded to nothing as his gaze travelled up my body.
I looked down, shifting the silky-satin of my skirt as it pooled around my feet and draping the fabric so that the slit up the side was less noticeable. Shit. Maybe I should have gone with the blue dress? I chewed my lip, my anxiety growing as the silence stretched between us.
‘You, uh, you look good,’ Aiden said after what felt like an eternity, clearing his throat. ‘Nice.’ He shook his head and stepped forward, offering me his arm. ‘We’d better get going.’