On and Off the Track

F I F T Y F I V E.

Tuesday dawned bright and full of promise, and I was buzzing with excitement as I prepared for a busy day of fittings. My apartment was a whirlwind of clothes and colour, with garments spilling out of every corner. Silk dresses, tailored blazers, and beautiful accessories were strewn across the living room, each piece vying for attention in the organised chaos. I stood in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting the straps of a stunning emerald gown that fitted me perfectly. The dress shimmered in the sunlight, its luxurious fabric reflecting hues that made me feel like royalty. I was in the middle of a fitting with my stylist, who flitted around the room, pulling pieces and making notes about what worked and what needed adjustments. Just as I was about to try on another outfit, the door swung open, and in walked Charles, a relaxed smile on his face. He surveyed the scene, raising an eyebrow.
"Looks like a tornado hit a Le metropole" he quipped, chuckling as he took in the chaos of the clothes draped everywhere. I laughed, my excitement bubbling over as I ran over to greet him.
"I know, right? It's a bit of a mess, but I'm so happy to see you"
'I missed you too' he whispered in my ear as he pulled me into a hug. At that moment, my stylist winced, eyeing the $7,000 dress I was wearing.
"Just... try not to ruin anything, please!" she said, half-joking, half-serious. With a playful grin, I turned back to Charles.
"No promises!" I shot back, my laughter echoing around the room. Charles leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a teasing glint in his eye.
"You look amazing, but this room," he looked around, chuckling to himself, 'is absolute chaos, how can you even think when it is like this?'
"Ha! If it wasn't chaos, it wouldn't be me," I replied, spinning back to the mirror, my energy infectious. Charles watched me with an appreciative smirk as I walked back to the mirror, trying on different outfits with enthusiasm, holding each piece up to my frame as I posed and twirled.
"Seriously, how many outfits do you need for a couple of trips?" he asked, his tone light but curious. I shot him a mock-serious look.
"As many as it takes! A girl has to be prepared, you know?" He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Just don't get lost in there; I wouldn't want to have to rescue you from an avalanche of silk and sequins." With each outfit I tried on, I would spin around, seeking his opinion.
"What do you think of this one?" I asked, twirling in a flowing, lavender dress that cascaded around me like petals in the wind.
"Nice choice," Charles replied, a sly smile creeping onto his lips. "It's almost as beautiful as the view outside. Almost." I rolled her eyes, laughing as she caught the playful banter.
"You're ridiculous!"
"Only because I know how to compliment a woman," he shot back smoothly. "And you're making it easy today. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to distract me from all this chaos." As I continued to try on different outfits, I felt a thrill of joy knowing Charles was genuinely enjoying the show. He leaned in closer, offering his thoughts with a teasing flair. "Just promise me you won't wear that $7,000 dress to the grocery store. It deserves a proper outing." I chuckled, shaking her head. "I can't promise anything, but I'll keep it out of the cereal aisle."

As the final fitting came to an end, I glanced around my apartment, now a chaotic gallery of fabric and colour. The stylist wrapped up the last few adjustments, nodding in satisfaction and I felt a rush of excitement and relief, ready to switch gears from the whirlwind of fashion to something more cosy and intimate.
"Alright, let's take a break from the chaos," I said, smiling at Charles as I tossed a stray dress over the back of a chair. "How about we whip up something for dinner?"
"Now you're speaking my language," he replied, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Just promise not to burn the place down." I shot him a mock glare.
"Who do you think I am? I can handle a kitchen!" We headed to the kitchen, the atmosphere shifting to a more relaxed vibe. I began pulling ingredients from the fridge, while Charles surveyed the cabinets, searching for the right tools. He caught my eye, grinning.
"What's our culinary masterpiece going to be? A five-star dish or a classic 'whatever's in the fridge' special?"
"Let's aim for something in between," I laughed, tossing a tomato in his direction, which he narrowly caught. "How about pasta? Easy, delicious, and perfect for celebrating today!"
"Pasta it is! I can get behind that," he said, moving closer to me as we prepped the ingredients.