Apartment 216

Chapter 8 - Dresses

It was a Saturday morning, and I slowly got up, stretching my tight body from the position it was in on the couch. Cramps caused shooting pains all around my body, and they take a while to subside as I walk into the kitchen, preparing something to eat. I opened the fridge door, bending down, and took the eggs from the middle shelf. I turned on the stove, cracking two eggs and throwing the shells out, and hummed a little song. The humming turned into singing as the eggs sizzled in the pan beneath me.

"Hungry eyes..." I belted, my hand fisted just under my mouth, pretending that I had a microphone. "One look at you and I can't disguise! Oohoo,"

I closed my eyes, feeling great, like a superstar, and swung my arms around. As I began to forget the lyrics, and the eggs were about to be ready, my phone buzzed at the bar table. The face of my phone lit up with the name 'Hugh Grant', and I walked over after having turned off stove, picking the phone up and bringing it to my ear.

"Hello?" I said.

"Good morning, love." I heard his low voice from the other side of the phone. Wow. I thought he was more innocent than the whole sexy-voice-over-the-phone thing.

"Hi Hugh," I said giddily. "Is everything alright? You left in a rush yesterday."

"Yes, everything is fine. Listen, doesn't Jennifer have a boyfriend?" He questions.

"Yeah, John." I said, intrigued. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing. It's nothing." He says. His voice is suspiciously high, which makes me think he's lying. Although, thinking about it, what could he hide from me? We've only known each other for about a week, he should have nothing to hide just yet.

"Is that all you called for?" I asked, placing my hand on my head, fingers running through my hair.

"I also wanted to tell you that I very much enjoyed last night."

My heart fluttered, and I failed to suppress a smile. "You've told me that before, yes."

"Just making sure you understand it; remember it."

I chuckle quietly, and twirl my hair between my index and middle fingers. "When are we planning on doing that again?"

I hear a low laugh go through the telephone line, straight into my ear. "Let me take you out to dinner."

"Where are you thinking of going?"

"I know a place. Just make sure you dress up, look fancier than you already do. I'll pick you up at seven." His voice reverberated from the speaker in my phone.

I giggled and hung up, setting my phone down on the table.

Although, I had a small problem. I needed to find myself a dress before seven 'o' clock.

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Arriving at the nearest store I could find, I began searching through the isles. I found the cocktail dresses, flocked by nearby ballroom dresses. From above the the hangers, I saw a tall woman, seemingly working at the store. I approached her, ready to ask her to take my measurements. As I got closer, I saw how unnatural she looked.

Her colored bright brown hair draped over her shoulders, but with all the treatment that she must have used on it, it became thin and encased her square face. Her lips, filled to the brim with filler, were colored a bright pink, and her cheeks were pushed up by what looked to be plastic surgery. Her breasts were just as equally filled with plastic surgery, a bra pushing them evidently out of her shirt. She turned towards me, her mascara covered eyes blinking.

"Hello there," She said, her mouth showing a smile that didn't reach her eyes as they looked me up and down. "How can I help you today?"

A thick French accent covered her words like melted chocolate.

I smiled sweetly. "I would love it if you could take my measurements please, so that I could find the right dress."

"Of course, come this way." Another voice piped up from behind me, and as I turned around, I noticed another woman, her face as botched as the other. Her blonde hair fell dryly just past her chin, the split ends bobbing around her jawline. Even though her eyebrows lifted as I walked past, her forehead did not crease, due to an absurd amount of botox.

"Thank you." I said, stepping on to a large pedestal.

As measuring tapes zipped from one end of my legs to the other, the girls chatted. Although they didn't just chat, they spoke in French. Little did they know, I had taken classes. I listened in on their conversation.

"Je pense que je l'ai vu avec le mec dont tu parlais..." (I think I saw her with that guy you were talking about...)

"Ah oui? Quelle pétasse. Elle est même pas assez belle." (Oh yeah? What a bitch. She's not even pretty enough.)

They were talking about me. Calling me names, and saying they saw me with... a guy? The only guy I've been around was Hugh, and I'm not sure why they would know him. Thinking about it now, I never questioned why Hugh was rich. Was he known?

"Pourquoi se balader avec une fille comme ca?" (Why go around with a girl like her?)

They giggle in unison, and I eye them carefully. I've never taken shit easily.

"Je suis pas sur, mais je suis définitivement un meilleur choix que vous deux." (I'm not sure, but I'm definitely a better choice than you two.) I smirk, staring straight ahead into the mirror before me. In the reflection, I watch their heads swivel in my direction, and then back to each other.

The brunette stood up from her crouch, letting the measuring tape roll back in on itself. 

"Um, yes. Excuse us madame. We will go find the perfect dress now."

The blonde swiped a strand of hair away from her face, and chimed in in broken English, "Yes. We find the right cocktail dress." 

As they walked towards a door that led to the main clothing racks of the store, I stood still, a smug look on my face. "Je prefere la couleur bleu chérie!" I cried out before they left.

A few moments later, they come trudging in, heads down, with five or more dresses piled on their arms. All the dresses were colored different shades of blue.

"Here madame." The blonde-haired woman handed me one of the dresses. "This, suit you the best in my opinion." Her English was choppy.

She handed me the dress, and ignoring her annoyed look, I went to the changing room, putting it on. The top reminded me of  Belle's dress in Beauty and the Beast, with the sleeves only going just under the shoulders. The hem of the dress flowed just above my knees, the ripple of navy blue silk tickling my skin. I walked out of the small changing room, and stood questioningly.

"Not that I care for your opinions, but what do you think?" I said, turning in a circle slowly as the two Frenchies glared.

They nodded at me, showing their approval, and led me to cash register.

As I paid, the two averted their gazes, refusing to meet my eyes. One of them prepared my receipt as the other bagged the clothing, and wrapped it in wrapping paper. The blond stuck the receipt into the tacky pink bag, and the brunette handed it to me, reluctantly murmuring, "Come again."

"Don't worry, I won't." I said, sending them a sweet sarcastic smile and turning onto the street out the door.

I didn't care much for their unnecessary attitude towards me, I only looked forward to dinner.

Hello hello, it's been a while! I'm back now, getting more in the mood to write. Instagram is Hugh.grant_writer, so stay updated!