Mrs Taylor is in again. I glance down at my watch, a present from Dan (must remember to buy a new watch), and see that it’s only eleven-thirty. Normally, Mrs Taylor doesn’t stop by until after lunch.
She hasn’t spotted me yet from where I’m arranging handbags next to a row of plum-coloured bridesmaid dresses but she’s grabbed Suzy, who will no doubt point her in my direction.
Nobody actually knows her first name. There was a rumour at one point that it was Audrey or Annette or something beginning with an ‘A’ but everybody at Connect just calls her Mrs Taylor.
Today, she saunters over to me wearing a caramel suit with a cream beret on top of her wild grey perm.
I flash a tight smile and ask if there’s anything I can assist her with today.
Of course there is. That’s why she’s standing in front of me. “Barbara Redgrave had a strapless dress on for her son’s wedding. She said you personally recommended it to her.”
I nod, recalling the floral dress.
“Why haven’t I seen it?” She wiggles a long finger in the air accusingly.
The thought of Mrs Taylor in a strapless dress is so funny I have to suck in my cheeks to stop myself from laughing and end up looking like I’m pouting.
Barbara Redgrave may have the figure to pull off an outfit like that but Mrs Taylor is pear-shaped like me, and doesn't have the bust for strapless. Instead, she should balance out her hips to create the illusion of a perfect hourglass. From the tightly fitted skirt, I can tell that Mrs Taylor hasn’t been following the advice I’ve been giving her since I started this job three years ago.
Suppressing the laughter, I say, “We’re actually out of stock on that one. Why don’t I show you what’s just come in?”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to protest but changes her mind and follows me.
***
Half an hour later, I’ve dealt with her and am idly browsing the rails, looking for an outfit for myself. I’ve stupidly agreed to go to some party hosted by Dan and Kylie tomorrow night, mostly out of curiosity about what this boyfriend-stealing cow looks like.
“That one’s nice,” a male voice says from behind me.
I jump, replacing the gold glittery number as though it’s illegal for me to be looking at clothes at work.
Mark Edwards, the thirty-something store manager grins at me. “You should try it on.”
“It’s not really me,” I say, moving away from the rail of party dresses.
Mark is what anyone would describe as tall, dark and handsome but doesn’t he bloody know it? I’m sure I’ve seen him checking out his appearance in the store’s mirrors.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks, flicking through the sparkly garments as though he knows a thing about women’s fashion.
Oh, you know. Just going to a party my ex has invited me to so that I can see what his new girlfriend has that I don’t have.
“Just a night out,” I lie.
“Wasn't it your birthday recently?”
I stare at him, wondering how he knows that but I suppose he can’t miss much working with Suzy Smith. “Yeah, yesterday actually.”
“Get anything nice?”
For a second, I think he’s talking about Dan but then I realise that piece of information concerning my embarrassing love life has probably reached him too.
“No, but I got loads of rubbish presents.” I don’t know why I say these things. It’s not like Mark wasn’t being perfectly pleasant to me.
“Oh…um...right,” he says, taken-aback by my vague attempt at humour. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”
I groan, covering my face with my hands. Maybe Kylie wasn’t the reason why Dan and I split up. Maybe he left me because I’m such a disaster with men.
YOU ARE READING
Pear Shaped
ChickLit~Chicklit short story contest finalist~ For Chloe Mills, her life starts to go pear-shaped when she turns thirty. Her boyfriend has just left her and soon even her job as a personal shopper at a department store is threatened by recession. Can Chloe...