Chapter 6
Brierley looked in the mirror of the large, elaborate dressing table. It had been so long since she’d applied proper makeup that it was a small wonder that she still remembered how. She pressed the head of her mascara brush against her eyelash and swiped it, coating her lashes in the dark shade.
“I’m just not sure I quite understand it all,” she said, not for the first time. Tori, her long-suffering friend, made a non-committal noise. “If customers aren’t paying a small amount for the jewellery, why are they going to pay more, surely?”
“That’s why he’s a business manager, not you,” Tori replied, putting one dress in front of her and then another. “Which one do you think?” She asked.
Brierley looked at Tori through the dressing table mirror and pointed, “Is that one new?”
“I got it yesterday,” Tori beamed as she held the plum-coloured, kimono-style dress across her slim body.
“That one then!” Brierley replied with a smile, “I’ve seen the other one before. It just seems counter-productive,” she added without taking a breath between sentences.
“I think what it all boils down to is, do you trust him?”
Silence momentarily fell over them as Brierley concentrated on plumping up her eyelashes, fluttering them at herself to make sure they looked good.
Satisfied, she put the lid back on the bottle.
“I do,” she announced. The orc already had the keys to her store and was doing goodness-knows what to it!
What he’d told her about taking her wares to a more expensive market felt wrong.
She could feel the internal resistance of fear holding her back.
The warmth that coloured her cheeks as she recalled their open-air meeting didn’t go unnoticed.
“Let Mr Merloft do his thing,” Tori said with a sly grin, “We’ll go out, have a good time and maybe he’ll join us later, and you’ll get your eye candy!”
“What if he’s not even single?” Brierley asked, trying to plunk up another excuse to stop her from making a fool of herself.
Aside from a few fleeting touches and lingering eye contact, there hadn’t been much for her to read into.
There hadn’t been enough time! Besides, she couldn’t get over the photograph that Tori had dragged up on her phone of him with his arm around the elf’s waist.
“You’re not worried about that elf, are you? The one with the fake tits?” Tori asked, clearly following the train of her friend’s thoughts.
Brierley shot her a dirty look through her reflection in the mirror.
“All right, surgically enhanced tits,” Tori sighed, “Besides, I didn’t see an engagement ring on those tusks of his,” she quashed any argument, drawing on the orcish tradition of unmistakably displaying to any prospective partners if they were available for breeding or not.
Brierley snapped around from the mirror, and she shot, “He totally saw you making blow-job impressions behind his back, by the way.”
Tori howled a laugh, unashamed by her promiscuous gestures. “He's a man, he’d love it!” She mockingly protested.
Looking back, Brierley recalled the unreadable expression on his face when he’d mentioned Tori’s joke. It had confused her at the time; maybe Tori had a point. Maybe he’d been thinking about the indication. Brierley pressed her lips together and hummed.
“You would too!” Tori teased. “You’re not seriously thinking of wearing that tonight, are you?” She asked her friend when her hooting had subsided.
Brierley stood up and looked at her chosen outfit. “Why? What’s wrong with it?” She pulled at the leg of her jeans.
“Oh no, those jeans are fine, but that top! My dear Brierley, if you want to catch the attention of that orc, you’re going to need to flash a bit of flesh,” Tori said, slipping her dress over her shoulders.
“Who said I was trying to get his attention?” She asked.
“You’ve not stopped talking about him since you got here.”
“Talking about work!” Brierley said, aghast.
“Uh-huh,” Tori said. “There’s nothing wrong with fancying a bit of green every now and again.”
“It’s just, when he showed me those designs,” Brierley explained, resting her cheek on the back of her hand as she leaned on the dressing table as she spoke, “There was something about the way he spoke, something raw and… I don’t know, vulnerable, I guess?
” She looked at her reflection in the mirror and sat up straight, trying not to look so far away in dreamland.
“And you totally dig that in a guy,” Tori informed her. “Nothing wrong with that either, you like emotional, but you’re not going to get to know those emotions properly trussed up like a nun! So, come here,” Tori ordered her.
To her consternation, Brierley stood up and followed her friend into the walk-in wardrobe.
Tori pulled a few tops from the rails and placed them in front of her.
None of them really seemed to be something that resonated with her, but she persisted as Tori kept mentally trying clothes on her. “Try this one?”
“That’s really not me!” Brierley protested, looking at the overly patterned top, shining with turquoise sequins. She looked through the clothing herself, “What about this one?” She asked, pulling out a paisley-printed top.
Tori pulled a ghastly expression, “The idea is to make you look smokin’ not seventy.”
With a laugh, Brierley put the top back on the rail, “Hey, it’s in your collection!” She protested.
“It was my mother’s.”
Brierley went back to exploring the vast amount of clothing her friend had. “Okay, this?” She asked, pulling another top from the gathered clothing.
Tori mused as she looked between her friend and the top she’d selected, “Maybe, try it on?”
Brierley pulled her own clothes off and swapped for the top.
It was a simple wrap-around top with a low V-neck and flowing angel arms. A deep blue colour that matched well with her stonewashed jeans.
When she pulled her thick brown hair from the collar, holding it up, she called out, “Do me a favour, Tor?”
Her friend skipped out of the wardrobe and took hold of the ribbon Brierley was hinting at, looping the ends together.
“Ooooh, he is going to want to clamp those tusks down on you. If he doesn’t claim you while wearing this, then there’s something wrong with that boy!
” She encouraged. “I have the perfect shoes to match!”
Tori disappeared once again and returned with a surprisingly sensible pair of sling-back, kitten-heeled shoes. They matched the colour of her top wonderfully, and she slipped them on with ease. “How is it you have my size in everything?” Brierley asked her petite friend.
“A girl needs to be prepared. Especially when her bestie is not!” Tori replied with a loving smile.
“Are you ready?” Brierley asked, eager to get to the party and let her hair down as she had been so lovingly encouraged to do.
“Almost,” Tori replied with a sing-song. The sounds of shuffling came from the wardrobe as she found a little clutch bag and a pair of high heels. When she emerged, she looked nothing short of beautiful; a siren among women.
Brierley waited as Tori kissed her husband goodbye.
The walk to where Alluin lived was short and filled with cheerful banter about everything and nothing.
Tori was right, though. Brierley became aware that she was talking about Breht a good deal.
Everything in her life revolved around her store.
Having him there was huge excitement, and she was ever more curious to know what he was doing in her beloved shop.
Naturally, Tori teased her every time she brought him up in conversation.
When they arrived, ringing the doorbell, the gathering was already flourishing.
Alluin greeted them both with a hug and told them that there was plenty of food and drink.
Informing them that they shouldn’t have bothered bringing the bottles that they brought as a gift.
That they were welcome to treat his home as theirs.
Among the guests were several faces that Brierley hadn’t seen in many years, and the enthusiasm with which she greeted them couldn’t be matched.
The gossip that followed brought her up to speed on what they were doing with their lives, who had married whom, and how many children (or cats) they all had.
The drink went down easily, but she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of displacement.
All the magnificent souls that she had known had moved on with their lives in one way or another, and she was struggling to make ends meet.
Borrowing pretty party tops from her best friend made her feel inadequate compared to their vast fortunes.
Her life felt strangely empty in the wake of the light-hearted conversation.
It was when she’d finished her first glass of wine and made her way to Alluin’s kitchen for a refill that she noticed Gorim standing in the corner, cradling a bottle of beer in one hand, talking animatedly to someone she didn’t know.
She raised her brows in silent greeting, giving the large orc a nod, knowing that he had been good friends with Breht during their time at school.
He grinned knowingly and returned the gesture, clapping the stranger on the shoulder and making his way over to where she was refilling her glass.
“Hey, you, it’s been a while,” Gorim said with a broad smile, twin sets of tusks protruding from his lower jaw.
He was a fair-skinned orc, with skin the colour of peppermint, and long, thick coils of dreadlocks snaking over his shoulders.
Dark eyes, the colour of molten tar, regarded her with casual ease as she raised the bottle and offered it to him.
He shook his head in return and showed her the bottle he was drinking from.
“Hi, Gorim,” Brierley greeted, clinking her glass with his. “How have you been all these years?” It was hard to believe that they lived in the same town but never got to see one another.
“Well, you know how life is?” He asked, “Busy! Life-mate. Daughter. Work. Life!” he offered.