Claiming Beauty (Taking Beauty Trilogy 2)

“Well, why didn’t you say so!” she huffed.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the blonde smiled the fakest smile I’d ever seen. The woman bristled, but she followed her into the back anyway, leaving me alone in the front of the store with the other perfect blonde. She took one look at me and turned away, walking back behind the counter.

Here’s my chance, I thought, squaring my shoulders as I walked over to her.

“Hi,” I said. She was on her phone, her face staring down at it.

“Hello,” she muttered, not looking up.

“I’m Chloe,” I said, “Chloe McDonnell.”

She raised her head slightly, looking up at me through long, black fringed lashes.

“And?” she asked, arching a condescending eyebrow.

“I’m a designer,” I began, realizing way too late that I should have prepared some sort of script for myself. “I just moved to the city and I’m going to open my own store soon, but I was hoping to show my designs to you, just to see if you’d be interested.”

She raised her head fully, her grass green eyes trailing over me with disdain.

“No.”

“No? You won’t even look? I have a dress with me, and my portfolio and I’m even wearing one of my own dresses.” I sat my portfolio and the garment bag on the counter and began to unbutton my coat.

“No!” she said, going back to her phone. “I’m too busy. Get out!”

I stared at her perfectly groomed exterior and pondered just how black her heart really was. Was it just a dark shade of grey? Or maybe a faded black denim shade of black? Or, was it as I suspected? A pure, darkest of nights, black hole type of black?

It didn’t matter. She was obviously a bitch that wasn’t going to give me the time of day, so I grabbed my things and turned to walk out, feeling like a modern day Pretty Woman.

I turned back to her, determined to get the last word, just to make myself feel better. I mean, damn, she didn’t have to be so cold, did she?

“You know what?” I yelled once I was near the front door. She looked up at me, the expression on her face filled with complete and utter disgust for me. “You didn’t have to be so rude. You’re going to regret not looking at my designs someday! Mark my words! I’m Chloe Mc—aaharghhghhh!”

ZAPPPPPP!!!!! Zap! Zap! Zap!

The vibration interrupted any words from successfully passing my lips and my knees buckled, sending me lurching for the door handle to keep from falling at the same time that an ungodly sound escaped from me; it was half pleasurable moan and half nervous laugh and another half a death gurgle, the result of being totally mortified.

I scampered out of the store like a quivering cat, pretending I didn’t hear the laughter of the ice queen in my ears. Walking away on shaky legs, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Bear sure had interesting timing.

Okay, so the first place was a disaster, but I wasn’t about to give up.

The second place was called Mix and was only a few blocks away. I found it easily with the GPS feature on my phone. It was a little less fru-fru and a lot more minimalistic. I walked inside and immediately felt colder than I had outside.

There were a grand total of three racks in the store. And on each rack was a total of three dresses. I looked around for more inventory or even an employee but I was all alone in the store. I walked around, gingerly looking at the few dresses on the racks.

They were all exactly the same.

They were even all the same size.

I’d seen the minimalistic look on their website, but I didn’t realize it was this extreme. I turned to walk out of the store when a man walked out from the back.

“May I help you?”

I turned back to him and smiled.

“Hi!” I said, walking over to him with an outstretched hand. “I’m Chloe. Chloe McDonnell.”

“Hello,” he nodded, stoically. “I’m Stuart Harding.” Silver hair framed his bronzed, chiseled face. His suit was perfectly tailored Italian silk and I couldn’t help but notice the flashy Rolex on his wrist. There was no way he was just an employee of this store.

“Is this your shop, Mr. Harding?”

“It is,” he nodded, his lips pressed together firmly.

“Wonderful,” I said, happy to be talk to an owner. “I’m a fashion designer. I’m going to be opening my own store soon and I was hoping I could talk to you for a few moments and show you my designs.”

“Whatever for?” he asked, wrinkling his brow.

“Oh, well,” I said, stumbling over my words, “I was hoping to get some opinions on my designs and ideas.”

“Seriously?” he asked. “What makes you think I have time to help someone else?”

“I see,” I said, grabbing my things and turning to walk away. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“Come back, young lady!” he said. When I turned back, he was smiling. His smile transformed his face and he suddenly a jolly old silver haired man. “I was only kidding. I’d love to look at your designs, dear, I’m bored to death here!”

“Oh!” I said, a big grin spreading across my face. “Thank you!”

“Of course! Of course!” he said, gesturing me to come back. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“I’d love to!” I said, opening my portfolio and handing him my sketch book. He took it from me, placing it on the glass counter and hunching over the book.

“Hmm,” he said, studying each drawing carefully, slowly turning the page to gaze at the next one. Nervousness quivered in my stomach as I waited, watching him purse his lips and nod here and there. Suddenly, he slammed it shut and turned back to me.

“What have you got there?” he asked, pointing at my bag. Hurriedly, I unzipped it and pulled out the dress. It was a long lilac chiffon cocktail dress, with a simple bodice that flared out into a fluted skirt.

“Hmmm,” he said, taking it from me and inspecting it. He lifted up the edge, studying the seam and then turned it over, looking at the tiny pearl buttons that ran up the back.

“I also have this,” I said, unbuttoning my coat and pulling it open to show him the dress I was wearing.

“Take off your coat, let me see the back,” he said. I took off my coat and laid it on the counter, swirling in a circle for him.

“That’s lovely,” he nodded, putting his hand on my book. “And these are nice, too.”

“Thank you!” I gushed. “Thank you so much for looking.”

“My pleasure,” he said.

“Can you give me any advice on opening up my own store? Once I have the inventory, I’ll begin looking for space and everything.”

“Dear, you can’t be serious.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“About opening a store. Of course, these are nice dresses, but they’re certainly not on a professional level.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You need to learn more. You still have a few years ahead of you before you’ll be good enough to sell anything.”

My bubble of happiness burst. At first, I felt sad. Then defiant. Then, defensiveness wormed its way ahead of everything else and I lifted my chin.

“Thank you for looking,” I said, pursing my lips together before I said anything I might regret.

He was nice enough to look, I thought. That’s all I wanted.

“Don’

t be upset, little one,” he said. I cringed when he called me that, realizing he only saw me through his misogynistic lens. To him, I was an inexperienced little girl. A man like him would never take me seriously.

I looked around his store and remembered that he only had one dress and felt a little better. At least I had some variety to my designs.

Walking out, I chuckled when I saw the name of his store again - Mix. How ironic, I thought, considering there was nothing in there to mix with anything else.

I walked around for a little while, trying to collect my thoughts and not give his words too much weight in my mind. My designs weren’t for everyone, but I was pretty sure they were for someone. I just needed a few more thousand someones to get on board and I’d be good.

My stomach growled and I realized it was time for lunch. I spotted a tiny cafe and walked inside, the sounds of Chopin twinkling through the air. After sitting at a tiny table in the corner, I ordered a glass of red wine and a plate of pasta and sat back sipping my wine, watching the people stream by outside, everyone focused on their individual lives.

I fingered the ring on my left hand, dreaming of what my life was going to be like. I was sure I’d look back on this day and laugh someday. All of this worry and nervousness and uncertainty would be behind me. I’d look back and laugh at the girl I was now.

I thought of Bear and how amazing it was going to be to be his wife. I’d grown quite accustomed to our little arrangement, and even though lately he’d been so busy with work, we’d not seen each other as much as I’d hoped, I knew that would change too. Peaks and valleys.

This must be what it’s like, I thought. Two people, going through life together yet separate, each of them pursuing their own goals and dreams, supporting each other. And yet, there were so many adventures that we’d get to enjoy together.

My pasta arrived and I had a forkful halfway to my mouth when I felt the sharp zap again. I dropped the fork and tried not to cry out.

ZAP!

That was it—just one hard, fast zap. I jumped, then braced myself for more. My stomach growled and I eyed the fork-full of pasta on my plate. I’d skipped breakfast and I was starving now. The fact that I’d had a few sips of wine before eating anything at all for the day didn’t help.