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“This is a bit…much.”
“Oh no. No, no, no.” Approaching me, she stands behind me while we both look at each other in the mirror. “No, this is great for Lakeview. If you feel uncomfortable, I can take off the flower, but the dress suits you perfectly.” She reaches for some pins on the small cushion attached to her wrist and puts them around the flower. “It’ll be gorgeous without it. Make sure to wear red lipstick.”
She pulls at the waist, and I’m forced to suck my stomach in.
“If I get Melania to pinch it a little more, it’ll hold whatever’s left of your postpartum belly.”
I jerk out of her hold, spinning to face her. “What did you just say?” I hiss.
Her eyes widen. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean this in an insulting way at all. We all have it, no matter how many years it’s been. I have it too, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. I just thought you’d want to look perfect in the dress.”
The room tilts, and I have to put a hand on the mirror. “I don’t—I’m not—” I scratch my throat. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but watch your mouth.”
It hurts to even think about it. But until I’m free, I can’t take any risks.
“I’m so sorry. I saw your C-section scar, and I assumed… I’m so sorry.”
“That’s not it. And if I hear those fucking words from your mouth again, I’m throwing you over your fucking mezzanine. Clear?”
She nods in a panic, taking a few steps away from me as she grabs the next dress. While she does, I look around to make sure Nate still hasn’t come up.
She does her best to regain composure while I put on the second dress, and so do I. I have to pretend everything is fine. I don’t have a choice if I want to get out of this shop alive. If I ever want to go back to my true loves.
The dress is a green the same color of my eyes, bustier, and the skirt flows all the way to my ankles. Suzanna silently kneels by my side, working on the length and pinning the dress some more. I’m wearing red heels now, and I keep them on while I try on the last dress.
It’s a black satin dress. At first glance, it’s simple. The back is open, sleeveless, and a fake-diamond necklace attached to it ties around my neck to hold it. Suzanna steps away, grabbing something else while I observe my throat closely. The necklace is tight, more like a choker, and the way it clicked when she put it on makes me feel claustrophobic.
I run my thumb against it, and my heart stops.
“Wait…are these real diamonds?”
“Of course,” she giggles, seemingly over my outburst. “What else?”
She approaches me from behind and slides a belt of diamonds through two discreet hoops at the sides of the dress. It doesn’t come to attach at the front, she simply clips it at my back and it pulls the dress tighter around my waist, embracing my shape perfectly.
“H-how much is this dress?”
“Seventy-five thousand dollars.” She nods, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.
“What?” I choke. I bring both my hands to my neck again and pull at the necklace.
“Oh, please don’t,” she panics.
“Can you… Can you take it off?” I’m starting to hyperventilate.
“It needs a key,” she explains, as her hands hover over mine. “Please, don’t pull. I’ll get it.”
Now this really doesn’t fucking help.
“Why does it need a key?” I panic.
“They’re real diamonds,” she explains calmly. “It’s just so no one can unclasp it from your neck and steal them.”
I point at the green dress hanging not far from me. “How much is that one?”
“Twenty-two thousand dollars.”
“Holy shit.” I point at the white one for tonight.
