Perfect Strangers

She stood breathing heavily with her eyes closed and her fingers tightly gripping the sink edge, too terrified to go out and face the most important client she had ever had in the last five years. If Stephanie Franco liked today’s finished product, she would wear it to The Amber Klein Benefit Ball next month in New York, where she was the Guest of Honor. With one more deep breath, she pushed herself away from the sink, opened her eyes and plastered a smile on to her face, before leaving the safe confines of the ladies’ room.

“Miss Franco, it’s so wonderful to see you again,” she said nervously, as her sweaty palm met with Stephanie’s ice cold one.

“Miss Fox,” she nodded, with a slight smile on her perfect, porcelain features.

“Avery, please wheel out Miss Franco’s dress,” Myla said with an air of authority, of which Stephanie seemed to approve.

Myla’s heart began to beat wildly in her chest and her stomach somersaulted with nerves. She kept her eyes trained on Stephanie hoping to see a glimmer of happiness or something, but she gave nothing away. Her face remained stoic. Discreetly wiping her palms down her hips, Myla smiled. “It’s been tailored to your exact specification, Miss Franco. With regards to the bodice, exactly fifteen thousand sequins have been meticulously hand-stitched to it.”

“Did I approve this color?” Stephanie asked. Myla felt bile rise in her throat.

“No, Miss Franco. The specific color you requested, I was unable to get despite my utmost effort to do so. This was the closest match I could find.”

She nodded her head and continued to circle the mannequin. “The back, it is not fixed with a zip?”

Swallowing hard she shook her head. “I’ve used clasps and hooks, that way the dress will be adjustable.”

She nodded her head again. Then she smiled. “I like it, I like it a lot.”

“Would you like to try it on?” Myla asked, feeling a rush of breath fly from her lips.

“No. Unfortunately, I’m strapped for time. Have another two thousand sequins stitched around this part here, then finish it up and have it shipped out to me at my Morocco address,” she ordered. Myla’s happy demeanor suddenly evaporated.

Another two thousand sequins? For fucks sake! “Of course, Miss Franco,” she replied through gritted teeth and a fake smile. Shaking hands again, Myla watched with angry eyes as her client left the premises and slid into a waiting limousine.

“At least she liked it, Myla. You’ll be raking it in once that dress catches the eye of the modelling world,” Avery said as she joined Myla’s side.

“Another two thousand sequins though? Does she even realize how painstakingly grueling that is? Not to mention time consuming, it took us well over a month to do the ones on it now.”

“Looks like we are working around the clock again then, bestie.” Avery groaned as she turned the sign on the door to closed.

*

It was 2am when Myla finally walked through her front door. Her fingers were killing her from stitching sequins. Five hundred down, another fifteen hundred to go. Grabbing the mail from the floor she went straight into her bedroom, flipped on the light, and flopped down face first on to the bed. A cream envelope in her hand caught her attention. Sitting upright she turned it over and stared at the gold italic writing perfectly etched on the front. She groaned loudly before throwing herself back down on the bed. She knew what it was without even opening it. An invitation. An invitation to her only sister’s wedding back home in Florida. An invitation she had hoped would never arrive. “Yep, today turned out to be shit.” She closed her eyes and let the darkness, once more, consume her tired body.

CHAPTER 2

Taking out her pans and putting them on the countertop, Myla began busying herself with making a well needed, full on English breakfast. Anything to distract her mind from the unopened cream envelope, still sitting on the windowsill. Why had I thought inventing a boyfriend to my parents was a good idea to begin with? She filled the coffee machine with water. It seemed a good idea at the time. But now it’s a shit idea. Then plugged in the pot and switched it on. What am I going to do? Fake it, just like you’ve been doing for two years. He’s out of town on a legal matter. His mother is dying. His father has been caught in a drug bust. Anything is better than the truth. She slammed the frying pan down and let out a loud screech. Her thoughts were beginning to drive her insane. This whole thing had kept her awake for most of the night, as she had tossed and turned in a restless state of worry. Worry about a small lie she had once told her mother over the phone in a fit of anger. It all stemmed from her mother’s incessant picking at her for her lack of a love life. She had originally thought the lie would stop all questions. She was wrong. Before she knew it, the invented boyfriend had turned into her fiancé a year later, and not just any fiancé. Her fiancé was a hot shot lawyer in London, with his own firm. Hell, it had been easier to embellish than to tell the truth.

The sharp, piercing ring of the doorbell brought her from her ‘feel sorry for me’ daydream. Turning the stove down, she padded her way towards the front door, allowing a small groan to escape her mouth as she placed an eye to the spy hole. Tying her hair up messily on top of her head, she opened the door with a smile. “Avery, Cass,” she started as she looked from one to the other and stepped aside from the doorway. “Come in.”

“Something smells good, bitch.” Cass laughed and shrugged herself out of her coat then dropped it over the banister, before striding towards the aroma of bacon breezing through the hallway from the kitchen.

“What did you bring her for?” Myla whispered to Avery.

“She turned up this morning wanting female input about tonight’s date. What was I supposed to do? Slam the door in her face?” She whispered back.

Shaking her head lightly, Myla rolled her eyes, kicking the front door shut behind Avery.

“So, what brings you here, Cass? It’s not often you frequent this part of town,” Myla asked bitterly, as she added extra bacon and sausage to the pan.

“I have a date tonight, and I thought Avery could give me some advice. You know, seeing how out of the two of you, she’s had sex in the last century,” Cass replied dryly.

Ignoring the sarcasm in her voice, Myla busied herself with breakfast. “Coffee?” She asked turning and banging two cups together.

“Sure, if we are staying for breakfast, might as well go the whole hog huh?” Avery smiled causing a dark stare to emanate from Myla.

“So, I take it my brother wasn’t up to scratch then? He was a little gutted when he returned home. You could have been nicer to him given he has only recently come home from ten years in the Army,” Cass said. She opened the French doors to the garden and lit a cigarette.