Page 95 of Wed to the Devil
Olive and I walk outside in the bright autumn sunshine, enjoying a stroll down Madison Avenue. I grin at her.
“Can you believe how beautiful it is right now?”
She gives an astonished laugh. “No. It's such a perfect spring day to be in New York City. Thank you for flying me down here.”
I take a deep breath and fling my arms wide. “I'm so happy that we escaped Harwicke for the morning! I desperately needed a girls’ trip.”
“I can’t believe that you chartered a freaking helicopter to fly us here!”
I slide her a grin. “Would you believe that it’s a company helicopter? It is always available at a moment’s notice.”
Olive gives an exaggerated sigh and an eye roll.
“Must be nice to be so well taken care of.”
I consider that. “Yes, it is.”
"Everything smells better here than back home. New York City smells likefreedom," Olive remarks with a wide grin.
I smile back at her, enjoying her childlike enthusiasm. "And money," I add with a laugh.
We stop at the first store we come to, a designer French luxury brand that sells clothes and luggage. A tall man with salt and pepper hair approaches us from inside the store. He smiles graciously as he greets us both in a deep voice.
"Good afternoon ladies," he says warmly as he opens the door for us to enter the shop. "Welcome. Is there anything I can help you find today?"
We both glance up at him uncertainly before Olive begins to stammer out an answer. "Um... Well, actually... We were just looking around."
The man nods understandingly before adding: "Perhaps I can show you some of our newest arrivals? Or if you're looking for something specific--"
"No, thank you," I quickly reply before Olive can get drawn into any sales pitches. “We want to look around for a few minutes first.”
The man gives us a tiny bow. “Of course. Please make yourselves comfortable and browse at your leisure. I will be right here if you need me.”
"Oh, wow!" Olive exclaims as we step inside the store. She practically runs to the first rack of dresses and begins rifling through it. “These are beautiful.”
The salesperson comes along with us, obviously ready to provide his best service. While we look through the racks, he refolds a stack of sweaters and tidies a display table full of sunglasses and valises.
“We should get dresses for tonight.”
Olive looks up at me from where she is draping a pair of cashmere slacks against her leg, comparing the length. “What’s tonight again?”
“That silly party that Dare is throwing to announce my pregnancy.”
I hold up a pink taffeta dress, considering it for a moment before putting it back on the rack.
“I thought that Remy just blathered the truth out to everybody at that party you told me about.”
She decides against the pants and moves on.
“He did. But Dare still wants to ‘control the narrative of my pregnancy’, whatever that word soup is supposed to mean.”
“Hah!” Olive gives me a sympathetic look.
"What can I help you lovely ladies with?" he asks.
"We're looking for cocktail dresses for a party tonight," I reply, looking over at Olive who is still going through the rack of clothes.
The salesperson quickly gets to work, finding exactly what we are looking for. He also brings complementary accessories that could pull our looks together and hangs them outside our dressing rooms.