A: [Honestly, still have to finish up with one client right now. Closed up to other customers tonight because of it, but I’ll be here!]
A: [Will have to let you in when you get to the door, so send me a message then. We’ll be done in time for us to go eat before some spots I know get crowded.]
Special clients probably aren’t that rare for her. There must be what is known as ’divas’ of all kinds. But I’m not sure why she bothered telling me all that instead of just *when* I should arrive.
Something about how she seems so eager for me to arrive, even though she isn’t actually rushing me... felt odd - but I dismissed it. Maybe she said it that way to be polite. In case I was right around the block.
Of course, I’m not and I can’t really just go out looking like this, can I? Dusty clothes and hair. Anise didn’t really see me at my ’worst’ that day - I’d already been cleaned up in the spa before I went for clothes - so I don’t really want to make that impression.
C: [Have to shower first, be there when I can.]
A: [No rush. This client usually takes their time.]
Again, she is making small talk about her work and it seems fine on the surface. But why can’t I shake this feeling?
⧖
☾ ❄ ☽
⧖
Changing into a nice set of clothes when I got out of my shower, a pastel blue blouse with a scoop neckline and a pair of distractingly orange shorts. High-waist, denim turn-ups from Second Chance that were completely ’out of season’.
They would absolutely bug the seamstress to no end... and it made me love them even more for it. I’m glad I walked back the long way to try and sabotage whatever was going on, as I was able to pick up a bunch of incidental new goods.
Also got Sarah, that old shopkeepers number this time before I left. My rationale was that I could call ahead and see if something I might find and bring her was acceptable, but I’m not sure I’ll ever use it. It still feels nice to have a way to contact the nice people I’ve met.
I stuffed my serviceable black clutch in my jacket - also worn just to irritate her - and headed out. The air was crisp, and the walk to Crystalline Spa gave me time to organize my thoughts further. Well, attempt to organize them.
The place was not that far from the Argent Quarter, yet very few blocks, my mind would drift back to that phone call this morning. To the raw gentleness in Kyrie’s voice. The way I’d hung up like a coward instead of explaining why I was throwing up.
> I could have claimed to have been ’hungover’ or something... but I didn’t want her to think I’d only sent the picture drunk. Ugh, stop. We should think about dinner with an acquaintance. Think about *anything* else. Crisp snow and subtle iron. Kyrie is here. Or was here? Looking like she’d been caught doing something far more scandalous than trying on clothes... when I’m the one who should feel caught. Because... she’s trying on a color other than white? <
Behind me, I heard Anise clear her throat delicately. But I couldn’t turn away. Her voice carried that same barely-contained amusement she’d leveled against me each time we’ve talked about... this woman.
"Well! I have your new waist measurement already, but the alterations might take a while to get exactly right. I just remembered I have a coffee delivery coming that I absolutely must wait for outside. You two probably have things to discuss anyway, ta-ta~."
At this, I finally turned to stare at her with a look of unbelief. No one would fail to recognize the blatant lie for what it was - and even if she really did arrange for a delivery, it was clearly as staged as all of this was!
"The back room I showed you is very private. No cameras, completely soundproof for... sensitive matters."
She was already backing toward the same side entrance we just came from, practically radiating smugness in her very stride. Soon leaving us alone in the suddenly too-quiet space... that felt both too big and too small.