Chapter 27 #2
She stops what she’s doing and joins me in front of the mannequin.
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” she squeals.
“It’s like a grown-up, sophisticated Alice in Wonderland garden-party dress.
I can totally see myself adding a cute white fascinator veil and some strappy heels to go with it.
Come to Mama.” She wastes no time in running to the front to find the shop’s owner.
As I stare at the dress, I’m in love with the fact that it’s the polar opposite of what a royal bride would be expected to wear. It’s strapless, and the hem will only come down to her shins. I know Mum would expect Amanda in something with a long, flowing train, but that’s not her. This is.
When I emerge from the dressing room, I’m surprised to find that Amanda has already changed and is admiring herself in a three-way mirror.
“How did you get dressed so quickly?”
“It’s former-flight-attendant ninja skills,” she jokes.
I laugh.
“Come stand beside me, I wanna see how we look together.”
I carefully lift the skirt and stand off to her right side. We’re normally even in height, but in heels, Amanda is about three inches taller than me. The shop owner has clipped the back of her dress, so it fits her frame better. It makes it easier to see the potential it has.
“You were right about the sparkle,” Amanda says, looking at me. “You definitely need some bling on the skirt and a necklace and earrings. Aquamarines? Those would look smoking with that blue. Or maybe sapphires? What do you think?”
I study my reflection in the mirror. Instead of envisioning what this dress could look like, all I’m able to picture is Art standing next to me. He’d be wearing a light-gray suit with a matching cerulean-blue tie and a white waistcoat.
His arms would wrap themselves around me and he’d plant a series of long, soft kisses up the nape of my neck.
I can practically hear his voice whispering into my ear how much he loves the color on me.
I’m filled with a deep sense of sadness.
My relationship with Art is over. I can’t foresee us finding a way to be together now.
“I think I’d like a flower here.” I point to the waist, where the fabric of the skirt drapes downward. “And I agree, either aquamarines or maybe even something like tanzanite. I have a necklace that I inherited from my grandmum that would do well with this.”
“Perfecto. And does it feel like something you could wear all day and dance around in? It’s not too restricting?”
“No. It’s perfect.”
“That’s one down.” Amanda grins widely. “Now give me your brutally honest opinion; what do you think of this bad boy?” She smooths the skirt and slowly pivots in a circle for me.
“I like the style of the dress as a base. It’s close to being perfect, but I feel like it’s missing something.”
She nods. “I agree. I think maybe a little lace jacket and a few accessories would do the trick. And for a hundred pounds, you can’t go wrong.”
Amanda pulls out her mobile and snaps a couple photos of us in our outfits before we change. I do my best to be positive despite my mood. We decide to purchase them and head to the grounds of Kensington Palace to meet up with Clara.
“My mom is going to die when I tell her we both found dresses. She told me it might take a couple shopping trips, but I knew we’d get lucky. After all, you’re my good luck charm, Ali.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
The privacy screen in the car is up and I relish the fact that it’s just the two of us. “Will she be disappointed she wasn’t here to go shopping with you?”
“Nah, Mom understands this dress is for the December ceremony. She’ll be here when we go to the design meeting for the dress I’ll wear for the more formal church ceremony.” She shakes her head. “Your mother was non-negotiable about that. My dress has to be something custom and have sleeves.”
“I hope Mum doesn’t find out about the December wedding.”
“You and me both. We’ll tell your parents afterward. Do you think you can keep from saying anything?”
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Thank you.” Amanda places a hand on my shoulder. “You start school in another week, week and a half?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Are you excited about the move to your flat? Do you need any help finding furniture?” She rubs her hands together, her eyes gleaming in excitement. “You know how much I love interior design.”
“I am, but I’m not going to be moving in until mid-February. I’m not ready for furniture yet, but I’d love your help picking out all the designs features for the ground-floor flat.”
“Ground-floor flat? You have more than one unit?”
I nod. “Since the construction crew ended up having to tear out more walls than expected, and I don’t need all the space, I thought it would be best if we turned the ground floor into its own separate property.”
“Smart, but what are you going to do with it? Sell it?”
“Mum and Papa said I could if the right person comes along, and they meet with their approval.”
“Uh-huh.” Amanda cocks her head to the side. “I know your dad though. What’s the catch?”
“The only people allowed would be a family member or friend of the family,” I answer sheepishly.
“That’s Reggie for you.” She chuckles. “Well, don’t worry. I’m sure the downstairs unit won’t stay vacant forever.”
“I hope not. It would be nice to have a friend live next to me.”
Later that evening, as I lie in bed, I tap the email icon on the borrowed tablet from Amanda. It’s been a whole half hour since the last time I checked. Maybe something has changed.
As the page reloads, I mutter, “Please, please, please.”
The inbox, however, remains empty. Placing the device face down, I groan and slide deeper under the covers, pulling the sheet over my head. “When am I going to hear from you again?”