Page 137 of Hate to Love You
“Oh, I see, are you two…” She wiggles her eyebrows, sniffling slightly as she wipes her eyes. “You know, together?”
“I have no idea,” I laugh.
She hums in response, nodding her head slowly as understanding slowly creeps into her eyes.
“I don’t like men who try to dress up women like their own porcelain dolls,” she says, a tinge of bitterness lacing her tone.
“Yeah, me neither,” I mutter.
Maybe there is still hope for this excursion.
“Mimi, your dresses are amazing. You clearly have skill,” I say, touching her shoulder gently. “And something tells me you wouldn’t be called a ‘dress witch’ for nothing right?”
She nods.
“I’m looking for something a little different,” I say, biting my bottom lip. “Something that makes him stop and pay attention, while also telling him, fashionably, to fuck off.”
“Oh, Miss Wayne,” Mimi grins. “I think we can definitely make that happen.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I smile back at her. “But please, call me, Abby.”
“Okay, Abby.”
“How about we put on a little show for my driver outside? Since I’m sure he’s reporting everything back to Mr. Antonov.”
After a few minutes, I step back onto the store floor, catching Trevor visibly relax against the side of the car.
My jaw clenches, Roman is clearly keeping tabs on me, and is using Trevor to do it. Which pisses me off, especially after what happened to his face.
For some reason, I feel oddly protective of him.
“I think this one would be perfect for you my dear! I have the perfect shoes and little clutch to go with it as well,” she looks at me, clearly pretending to still be on Roman’s team. “Hmm, yes, yes this is the one!”
Mimi continues pulling out all the accessories for the yellow dress, which is still revolting. However, once accessorized, it wasn’t that bad.
But still, it was mustard yellow.
Staring at the monstrosity in her hands, I must admit, I appreciate how well she is holding up this act.
“Mimi, no.”
“No?”
“No, I want that one,” I say, pointing to the bright red dress hanging off to the side.
“Unfortunately, Miss Wayne, that isn’t available.” Mimi states, sheepishly biting her lip.
I love how committed she is to our little ruse.
Pulling the dress off the rack I walk it over to Mimi and hang it on the rack on the wall.
“Oh! This is stunning!” I sigh, bending my knees slightly to look closer to it.
Mimi really was a witch, the detailing on this dress is exceptional.
Some women fall in love with handbags and shoes at first sight, that rush of serotonin forcing them to buy them, and even hoard them.
However, ever since my husband died, I’ve let myself buy whatever clothes I want, or whatever I find pretty. And coincidentally that included a lot of formal dresses.