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“How fun!” her friend said. “Come on, Ruby. Let’s go take a selfie.”
I glanced at Damien, who stood there with a bright smile on his face. The bell above the door jingled several more times within ten minutes. Women were flocking into the store, one by one, and taking their time, looking at the merchandise that would probably change their lives.
“Oh God.” Damien gripped my arm. “I’m going into the back room.”
“Why?” My brows furrowed.
“See that woman over there in the black pantsuit?”
“The blonde?”
“Yes. That’s Marissa McMann. She’s the editor for Page Six. I hate that woman and don’t want her to see me.” He walked into the back room.
“Willa Blackwood?” Her heels clicked along the tile as she walked over to me.
“Yes? Hello. Welcome to Curated Chaos.”
“This place,” she said. “Smells like lavender and feelings.”
“Well, we like our healing sparkly.” I grinned.
“I’m Marissa McMann, the editor of Page Six. I came to check out your shop and to see what it’s all about. There’s quite a buzz all over the internet for your boxes.” She stared at the stack ofThanks For The Traumaboxes. “This—is what all the buzz is about?” she asked, examining the box's contents.
Her tone was snotty, but I was unbothered. “Yep. Breakups, emotional instability, meltdowns, broken hearts, and minor identity crises. All boxed up and hand-curated by yours truly.” I grinned, reaching into a glass bowl and pulling out a pink bath bomb labeledBlocked and Bathing.“Here, this is for you. A sample of what Curated Chaos has to offer.”
“And you’re the one married to Damien Blackwood?”
“I am.”
“People seem to be obsessed with your story and him. But everyone knows Damien all too well. His recklessness, the excessive notches in his bedpost, the women he tempted with expensive dinners and champagne, ending with a one-night stand and broken hearts. These people are not rooting for love. They’re watching and waiting for the fallout.”
I reached over and grabbed a bottle ofBetter Off & Buzzedchampagne and held it up.
“Let them watch. We toast either way.” I grinned.
Marissa’s eyes blinked twice, almost as if she were impressed.
“No comment,” she said, looking around the shop and taking pictures.
“Sweetie, thatwasa comment.” I smiled, walking away to help other customers in the store.
She finally left, and Damien walked over and stood beside me, watching her hail a cab outside the window.
“I have to say, sweetheart. You handled that bitch very well. I would have had to restrain myself and not slap her like I’ve wanted to for years.”
“She’s unhappy, that’s all.” I smiled. “I don’t care what she thinks about the store or us.” I lay my head on his shoulder.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Damien
Glitter, Grief, and Breakup Boxes: Inside New Manhattan’s Most Unhinged Wellness Trend.
That was the headline on Page Six, along with an interesting article.
Step aside, hot yoga and celery juice cleanses—Manhattan’s newest emotional detox involves breakup bingo cards, glitter bath bombs, self love notes, and different emotional well-being boxes galore—all for the freshly dumped.
Welcome to Curated Chaos, a heartbreak recovery shop that is equal parts therapy, thrift store, and a Taylor Swift music video. All of this was created by Willa Blackwood (yes, that Willa—the Vegas bride of billionaire Damien Blackwood). Patrons can shop boxes labeledThanks For Nothing, Blocked & Bathing, and No Contact Clubwhile sipping wine and taking selfies in the corner called the Self-Love Snap Spot. Curated Chaos is a healing hotspot for the romantically wrecked.