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Chapter21
Dresses, yukk
Avani
One Year Later…
“Can I help you?” I greet the lady who walks into the store.
She smiles at me and heads straight over to the bridal area. My heels click as I follow after her on the marble floor.
After everything that happened with Grayson, I moved states and was hired to work in an appointment only, upscale bridal boutique, where we also sell stunning one-of-a-kind evening dresses.
The lady looks through a rack and runs her hand over one of the elegant white dresses.
I turn to see Michelle pointing to her as she mouths, “I have to go. Can you look after her?” I nod my head and stand by to assist.
Let’s be real here. This position is like apples and oranges compared to my last one—I sold sex, and now I sell dresses—they couldn’t be more different.
Which position did I like more? The sex.
But I don’t dislike this position. It’s quite simply…different.
I have my own apartment. It’s cheaper living here, so I’m still able to save and live on my own. I guess a lot of that has to do with the fact I’m not in the city, and that counts.
“Yes.” The woman pulls me from my thoughts. “I think my boyfriend is going to propose to me tonight, and I need the perfect dress, I heard talk of a ring and he’s made plans, so I need everything perfect.”
“Oh, how exciting. Are you going anywhere special?” I ask her. “Beach? restaurant?”
“Beach, I think.”
“Any color preference?”
“White,” she states, still flipping through the bridal gowns. Her phone rings, and she holds up a finger as she answers it and walks away. My eyes follow her as she sashays with a strut only people with money can pull off. She is stunning with long, model-like legs and stick-straight, sandy blonde hair ending near her lower back.
She turns back to me as she places her phone down. “Sorry, he’s outside. Can he come in?” I nod before I lead her to the racks of dresses she needs. “This area right here…” I point, “will have the perfect dress. Pick a few, and you can try them on. Give me a second to get your partner.”
She smiles politely at me as I head to the door. I unlock it, and when I pull it open, I try to shut it again straight away. But his foot slides into the gap, and he glares at me like I am the enemy.
“Avani…” he growls my name, “open the fucking door.”
No fucking way!
I try to push it closed, but he is stronger than me and merely shoves it open, nearly knocking me back on my ass as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. The way he glares at me makes me want to run far, far away. Yet, my feet are glued to the spot, not wanting to move an inch.
A soft voice floats to us, and I know it’s her.
Are they together?
What is he doing with her?
She is so perfect.
And I was so broken.
His eyes never leave me as I glance behind me—the customer isn’t near us, only calling out.
“I have to work,” I tell him.
