Page 119
Story: Mess With Me
She slides the whole thing over to me. “What about career-wise, Sash? Do you ever think about what you want to do long term?”
I have. I’d love to do something with fashion, but I have no idea what. The industry itself doesn’t really appeal to me, but the clothes do, so I don’t know where that leaves me except retail. Plus, I’m not sure how to align my desire to do good with fancy clothes.
But I don’t say all that. I try to shrug it off with a joke like I always do when thinking about my future. “What, you mean you’re not going to work in Vivian’s shop until you retire?” I ask.
Glo snorts. “I mean…if you do.”
We both laugh. But I can still hear that nagging voice in my head that this can’t be it for me.
Glo sighs. “I liked my job. I was honestly almost as pissed at my husband for having to leave it than about what he did.” Then she blanches. “That’s not true at all. But I do miss it.”
“Could you get a marketing job here?”
“Not like I had there. I got to call all the shots. The only way I could really do that would be to start my own firm. And I just can’t even think of how much energy it would take to go out on my own.”
I get the sense she doesn’t love being on her own, just like me.
“So Bijou it is.”
She laughs. “Exactly, and actually, we better get going. Vivian will have a field day if we’re both late.”
Viv likes nothing more than to have a real crime to snap at us for.
On our way to the shop, I glance over at Glo, an idea occurring to me. “Hey, what do you think about coming out with Griff and me tomorrow night?” I explain how we’re meeting his brother to talk ghosts at the Rolling Hills.
Glo lights up. “Hey, I stayed there when I first got to town. There’sa ghost?”
“Sort of,” I laugh. I fill her in on everything as we walk to Bijou.
When we come through the doors, Vivian’s looking at her watch, her face snippy, which isn’t unusual.
“Just in the nick of time, ladies. I was beginning to wonder if I should call the fire department.”
“That would be fun,” I say. “I’ve seen those guys around town.”
Glo snorts, turning back to the rack she was working on before our break.
But when I look up at Viv again, I can see she isn’t laughing. She’s looking at us with a kind of…sadness. Or maybe a yearning.
My heart twists.
Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve learned Vivian’s not the evil ice queen everyone says she is. She’s taking care of someone on the other end of that phone—I hear her tender words between her sharp barks. I wonder if she’s ever had a friendship like the one Glo and I have—instant and close. Or if she’d even want that.
But then the bell jingles, and the spell is broken. As another woman comes into the shop, I vow to invite Vivian over to my place once things calm down. I know she’ll give me an earful about all the things I’ve done wrong in decorating, but I suspect inviting her somewhere just for her might warm her icy heart just a little, too.
My attention goes to the woman who’s come in. She looks young—younger than me. She’s thin and pale and tucks her hair behind her ear. She looks around nervously, like she doesn’t know where to start.
“Hey,” I say, coming up to her and smiling.
She startles when I speak to her—I’m off to the side, and Glo’s fully hidden as she rearranges shoes on a low shelf. She clears her throat tentatively, as if building up the nerve to speak.
She’s painfully shy. She reminds me of Nora when we first met in London.
I give her a warm smile. “Can I help you find anything?”
“Yes. I, um, I have a job interview. A really important one.” Her smile comes out then, but it quickly disappears. Clearly this is a hard-won interview, because if I wasn’t mistaken, I’d swear that was the tiniest glimmer of pride. “But I have no idea what to wear.”
“Can you tell me about where the job is?”
I have. I’d love to do something with fashion, but I have no idea what. The industry itself doesn’t really appeal to me, but the clothes do, so I don’t know where that leaves me except retail. Plus, I’m not sure how to align my desire to do good with fancy clothes.
But I don’t say all that. I try to shrug it off with a joke like I always do when thinking about my future. “What, you mean you’re not going to work in Vivian’s shop until you retire?” I ask.
Glo snorts. “I mean…if you do.”
We both laugh. But I can still hear that nagging voice in my head that this can’t be it for me.
Glo sighs. “I liked my job. I was honestly almost as pissed at my husband for having to leave it than about what he did.” Then she blanches. “That’s not true at all. But I do miss it.”
“Could you get a marketing job here?”
“Not like I had there. I got to call all the shots. The only way I could really do that would be to start my own firm. And I just can’t even think of how much energy it would take to go out on my own.”
I get the sense she doesn’t love being on her own, just like me.
“So Bijou it is.”
She laughs. “Exactly, and actually, we better get going. Vivian will have a field day if we’re both late.”
Viv likes nothing more than to have a real crime to snap at us for.
On our way to the shop, I glance over at Glo, an idea occurring to me. “Hey, what do you think about coming out with Griff and me tomorrow night?” I explain how we’re meeting his brother to talk ghosts at the Rolling Hills.
Glo lights up. “Hey, I stayed there when I first got to town. There’sa ghost?”
“Sort of,” I laugh. I fill her in on everything as we walk to Bijou.
When we come through the doors, Vivian’s looking at her watch, her face snippy, which isn’t unusual.
“Just in the nick of time, ladies. I was beginning to wonder if I should call the fire department.”
“That would be fun,” I say. “I’ve seen those guys around town.”
Glo snorts, turning back to the rack she was working on before our break.
But when I look up at Viv again, I can see she isn’t laughing. She’s looking at us with a kind of…sadness. Or maybe a yearning.
My heart twists.
Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve learned Vivian’s not the evil ice queen everyone says she is. She’s taking care of someone on the other end of that phone—I hear her tender words between her sharp barks. I wonder if she’s ever had a friendship like the one Glo and I have—instant and close. Or if she’d even want that.
But then the bell jingles, and the spell is broken. As another woman comes into the shop, I vow to invite Vivian over to my place once things calm down. I know she’ll give me an earful about all the things I’ve done wrong in decorating, but I suspect inviting her somewhere just for her might warm her icy heart just a little, too.
My attention goes to the woman who’s come in. She looks young—younger than me. She’s thin and pale and tucks her hair behind her ear. She looks around nervously, like she doesn’t know where to start.
“Hey,” I say, coming up to her and smiling.
She startles when I speak to her—I’m off to the side, and Glo’s fully hidden as she rearranges shoes on a low shelf. She clears her throat tentatively, as if building up the nerve to speak.
She’s painfully shy. She reminds me of Nora when we first met in London.
I give her a warm smile. “Can I help you find anything?”
“Yes. I, um, I have a job interview. A really important one.” Her smile comes out then, but it quickly disappears. Clearly this is a hard-won interview, because if I wasn’t mistaken, I’d swear that was the tiniest glimmer of pride. “But I have no idea what to wear.”
“Can you tell me about where the job is?”
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