Chapter 13 - Jade #2
I open my mouth to ask him if I did something wrong, but before I can, he gives me a quick nod and turns around, walking away as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
I look back at Clair to see if she noticed.
Maybe this is normal for him? Instead of looking like she thinks his behavior is odd or being unbothered by it, she is silently laughing with her hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide it.
“What?” I ask her lamely, feeling even more confused the longer I sit here.
“Nothing, dear,” she says as she waves her hand in the air as if clearing it of something, and I feel my brow pinch in confusion.
“It’s just that Arie might have a crush on you,” she tells me through a few more giggles.
I rear back as if I’ve been slapped and have to actively stop my mouth from falling open.
A crush? On me?
Turning, I look in the direction that Arie just disappeared and see him standing at another table with more bowls. At first, he doesn’t see me, and I don't see any of the tension or awkward qualities he just had when serving us.
It can’t be a crush. Clair must be mistaken. Crushes mean feelings, not just the ‘I want to buy you for sex or control kind,’ but like the touchy-feely from the heart kind.
I open my mouth to tell Clair she’s wrong, that he must have just been nervous, but before I can, his head snaps up as if he can feel my eyes on him.
The moment our gazes meet, his cheeks once again turn a deep red that I can see from halfway across the restaurant.
He fumbles with a bowl but gets it set down before it spills all over the place.
A small chuckle escapes me before I can stop it, and I instantly slap my hand over my mouth in horror.
I don’t want him to think I’m laughing at him.
My concern only lasts a moment, though, because as soon as my laugh leaves my mouth, he turns to face me again, and a small, shy smile lights up his face. He stares at me for a bit longer before giving a slight bow to the table, turning away, and dashing back through the back doors again.
I look at Clair with wide eyes and my hand still over my mouth.
“You see?” She asks, and I have no words again, leaving me only to nod. I’m not sure I have ever been speechless as much as I have been today.
Clair calms herself and begins eating her food, but I still sit staring at my food, feeling as if I’m in shock.
I’m unsure how long I sit there before I finally get my thoughts together enough to ask the question rattling around in my brain.
“Why?” I ask, only to realize I didn’t give any context. I go to do just that, but she shakes her head at me.
“Why not, Jade? I know you might not see it. Don’t worry, most girls your age don't, but you, my dear, are beautiful and sweet.” She says it like it’s the most obvious thing, and it takes everything in me not to cringe away from her compliment. I manage, though just barely.
“Just give it a few days on campus, and you'll see, you will have friends and admirers all over the place,” she tells me as she wiggles her brows at me. I laugh, and I’m not sure if it's because of her brow wiggling or the idea that people might like me, but it still feels good. Spending time with Clair is easy in a way I’m not used to.
I just hope that this can last.
We finish eating, and I don’t even put a dent in my bowl before I feel like I’m going to explode.
We eat, and a little while later, Arie packs our food in to-go containers and brings out an extra one with more crab pad Thai.
I’m confused as to why we could possibly need more food until Clair explains that we are bringing some home for dinner.
It’s sweet just how often she thinks of them, even though they're grown.
“Alright, let's head out and get you some clothes for that party,” she tells me, grabbing the bag of food and dropping two hundred dollars on the table.
I might not be the best with money, but I feel like that has to be a little more than the meal cost, and if it actually costs that much, I vow never to eat here again.
No matter how delicious it might have been.
My face must give away how shocked I am because she explains, “Arie’s family has always been good to us, so we make sure to be good to them, too.” I mean, I guess I get it a little. She's taking care of the little guy, kind of like I used to do for the girls.
I don’t know where I expect us to go—maybe back to the mall, but I really have no idea.
But I didn't expect to end up at a large shop tucked behind a few coffee shops on a strip similar to the one we just left. I always pictured clothing stores to be huge, and while this store isn’t exactly small, it doesn’t match what I imagined.
The sign is lit above the door and reads Wella’s. Clair walks in, and the door triggers a chime-like sound, just like at the salon.
“Wella, dear!” Clair yells through the store from where we stopped just inside the door.
“Oh! Is that my Clair Bear, I hear!? Don’t play with me, girl. It better be!” A high-pitched, eager male voice yells back from somewhere deep in the store to our left.
Before Clair can respond, a man–Wella, I assume–is pushing his way past one of the many clothing racks in a mad dash attempt to get over to where we are. He stumbles slightly before righting himself. He straightens his clothes and throws the clothing rack a dark look.
Clair looks over at me as we both watch him death glare an inanimate object. The look in her eyes tells me she thinks this is hilarious, and I can’t disagree.
He turns to face us again, and a huge grin splits his lips as he takes Clair in.
“Anywho!” he says as he all but struts up to Clair, waving his hands around as if to brush off the experience. He leans in to kiss one of her cheeks and then the other before pulling her into a very firm hug that she returns.
Taking a moment, I look him over. His top is just like a suit jacket, but instead of being black or gray like I’m used to, it's a bright pink that seems reflective. As he moves, it throws little rainbows of light all over the room. He wears it with only one or two buttons done at the bottom to keep it closed but lacks a shirt underneath it, leaving his chest on display. His pants are dark gray skinny jeans with random holes throughout them, and his feet are bare. Unlike Kratos’s or Zander, Wella's hair isn't long, but falls in unruly curls just above his ears and is a deep brown color. He doesn’t have any jewelry on, but he is wearing makeup. The bright pink color on his eyelids matches his jacket perfectly, while the black liner somehow makes his eyes seem more dramatic. His lashes are so long that I assume they’re fake.
With each blink, they easily touch his eyebrows.
Damn, I wish I could do my makeup like that, or at all.
Wella’s thin, probably thinner than I am, but the little muscle he does have appears to be well-defined. It’s an odd combination, but it seems to work for him.
I look down at myself and wonder if that’s how I look to other people.
We weren’t always fed while in holding. Mostly, I was given food before a job to ensure I didn’t faint, or while on a job that was more high class than just sex.
Our nutrition wasn’t their concern so long as we stayed alive.
I made sure to eat every meal and take any sources of hydration to be in the best condition I could to protect the girls, but oftentimes, I shared with them, and my muscle mass is probably sad compared to the average person.
I make a mental note to start eating more and have Zander teach me a few other things to make so that I can put some meat on my bones now that it’s an option.
It’s been a long time since I’ve considered myself weak, but the thought of the potential I have now excites me, and I quickly stuff that feeling down. I can’t afford to get attached.
“Jade, this is Wella, and he’s going to help us get you a style all your own,” Clair says, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up to see them both looking at me and wonder how long I was just stuck in my head.
Based on the smile on both of their faces, it couldn’t have been too long.
“Oh, Clair Bear! She is D-e-vine!” Wella sings, walking over to me. He looks me up and down before he begins to circle me slowly, and I have to fight against the urge to turn with him to keep him from being at my back.
He’s looking at you for the purpose of clothing, Jade. Chill the fuck out. I mentally scold myself.
He claps his hands loudly when he makes it back in front of me again, startling me. He doesn’t seem to notice, but I see Clair smile over his shoulder.
“To the rooms with you, my dears! I’ll be back in just a few, and we can get this party started!” He says, shimmying his shoulders at us before disappearing into the racks of clothes once again.
I turn back to Clair with wide eyes, hoping my silent question of what the fuck is properly conveyed on my face so I don’t have to say it out loud and risk him overhearing.
Clair simply loops her arm in mine and leads us to the back as we were directed.
“Wella is a lot, I know, but there is nobody I trust more to help you find clothes and your own style. He may be a little…extra, but his fashion is always on point.” She tells me just before we reach a long red curtain that she doesn’t hesitate to pull back.
The space behind it isn’t huge, but it is large enough that I’m sure a few people could stand in there comfortably.
There is a small bench and loads of hooks on the wall to the right, and the whole wall at the back of the building is floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and again fall in love with what Mel did for me. I’ve never been huge on caring about my looks, other than how I can use them to help keep the girls safe. But I swear I could stand here all day and admire my hair. I have never felt more like myself than I do now.