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“Yes. We would love to have you on the team. And you would be a paid employee.”
I stop. “Are you serious? Wait. Did Jafar put you up to this?”
“Why would he do that?” She shakes her head. “It’s something we’ve all been talking about. In the few weeks that you’ve been here, you’ve done a lot. You have great ideas. And you’re someone we can count on.”
“Except when I take weekend trips,” I joke.
She laughs as we reach her car. “I mean it. We’d love to work with you again.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve loved working with the team, but I have a life back in Kansas.”
“Are you happy there?” When I don’t answer, she says, “Life is short. Anything you do should fill you with passion and joy. At least think about it.”
She unlocks the doors so we can get in. My mind races as we cross town. I truly don’t know what to do. This is my dream job, but if I live here, that means seeing Jasmine and Jafar all the time. I'd have to watch as they start a family, or even as he gets bored and cheats on her again. I would be around Dru and Richard, which means I would eventually run into my stepmother. Is the job worth all of that?
What about Ty? I just told him I wanted to go on a date with him. How would it look if I leave for New York City for good? And I do love my job at the clinic. But I know what Gemma means when she says life is short. I know that better than most. Does the clinic bring me passion and joy? Not always. I love my job… but I think my skills could be used elsewhere. Working for the Met will open doors I’ve never dreamed of. I’ll meet people who have more money than they know what to do with, and maybe one of those people will want to support a clinic here in the city. My mind goes back to Jafar. He would support a goal like that in a heartbeat.
We reach our destination and park outside an old building. I follow Gemma inside, not knowing what to expect. A young man that I’ve seen on TV, social media, and almost every magazine cover at my local grocery store comes over, kissing Gemma on the cheek.
“There’s my beautiful goddess. And who is this?”
Gemma says, “Bruno, I’d like you to meet my friend Ellie. She works with me on the gala team, and she needs a dress.”
Bruno walks a full circle around me, humming. “Oh, you are stunning, my dear. And you have found no one to dress you for the gala?”
“Or the fundraiser dinner,” Gemma adds with a smile.
“Would you be interested in seeing some of my designs? I have a few dresses in mind that I think would suit you.”
“I would love that. But I don’t want to be a hinderance. I know you’re very busy.”
And, as I’ve been told many times before, it takes a lot more effort to design something for someone of my size.
He tips my chin. “I’m never too busy for a goddess.”
Gemma and I follow him across the room to a desk. Bruno pulls out a sketch book, flipping through it. I’m surprised to see that he has designs for women of all shapes, sizes, and colors. He stops on one design, glancing up at me.
“What do you think about this? It’s my take on a gown Princess Diana wore to the Cannes Film Festival back in 1987.” He smiles. “I’m a bit obsessed with the late Princess.”
The strapless, pale blue chiffon dress is stunning, and I think it would look beautiful on me. And it’s easy to picture myself in it because the model he drew is a curvy woman. I don’t have to use my imagination, wondering how the dress would hug my hips. No, it’s right here in front of me, and it’s beautiful.
Bruno says, “The original was more flowing than my version, and I added some sheer material here and here to make it more modern. There’s also a cape that goes with it.”
He flips the page, showing a lacy cape that has a small train on it.
“I love it.”
“Excellent. Now for the fundraiser dinner. The theme is fairytale, right?”
“Yes.”
He hums as he flips through his book, coming to a stop on another blue gown made for a curvy woman. This one is so light that it almost looks sheer. He’s added metallic glitter to his sketch, making me think the real thing will shimmer as well.
“This one is a shoulder-baring trumpet gown. I was inspired by the old tale of the girl who lost her shoe at the ball at midnight.”
I smile. “One of my favorites.”
“Perfect. Now, I need to get some measurements from you so I can get started.”
