I Like Your Shoes | ✓

Chapter 22 | Men's Clothes and A Pretty Dress

[Ambrosia Bellemore]

They were men's clothes.

He gave me freaking men's clothes.

I pick up the faded grey jacket with the tips of my fingers in utter disgust. It was huge, and I was sure I would look like a complete fool when in them. But then I look down at the clothes that I was already wearing and gag.

It thinned down to just two options in the end, really. (A) Look like a humongous gargoyle who's been run over by a truck or (B) Look like a homeless gargoyle who has been run over by a truck, boiled in a pot of poisonous concoction and dragged through half of New York using a tow truck.

I sigh and put on the men's clothes.

The orange shirt, as I'd expected, spreads out unflatteringly to my mid-thigh. Personally, I think I looked like I was wearing an umbrella, upside down. The denim jacket, however had cool flame patterns on them and after I'd done tucking the huge shirt into the white jeans, which fortunately looked like something a woman would wear, I could manage to say that I looked good.

Well, maybe not as far as good, but I could atleast be called a human, and not a Chimpanzee undergoing evolution. And that for me, was good enough.

Checking myself in the full length mirror, I sigh and walk out, hoping no one would see me in these clothes. I was glad of the timing, because I know what Kailey and Lent would've said if they'd have caught sight of me now.

"Is it Halloween already?" That's what.

"Miss Bellemore! So glad you could join us." Calum Achorn, that son of a conspirator, exclaims when I walk with my head down towards the sleek black car that's standing right outside the main door.

I mumble something incorrigible under my breath, curling my hands into fists so that I wouldn't drag him by his ear and throw him out of his own flattering car.

He's your boss, I remind myself. You aren't allowed to kill him. You'll have to go back to Sydney and live under your mother's roof and eat salad until you turn into a huge asparagus if you do.

"West view." He orders dismissively and I settle myself for the purgatory that was shopping with Calum Achorn.

~•~

"Oh my God, Calum! I'd never thought I'd live for the day you walk into my shop!" A thin as a bean pole woman in her mid thirties walks in our direction with her hands wide open to engulf my Boss.

"Valerie. It's nice to see you." My Boss chokes out with difficulty, probably because of the death hold she had on his neck or probably because of the intense perfume she had on. Or probably both.

"How have you been, my oompa loompa?" She drawls seductively, running a red tipped finger gingerly down his chest. I choke up with barely concealed laughter. Something about comparing my Boss with the small, funnily dressed workers of a chocolate factory is hilarious, and completely impossible.

Calum Achorn glares at me over Valerie's head and I compose myself just in time to give him an encouraging smile and a discreet thumbs up. His mouth disappears into a thin line.

"We need clothes, Valerie," He insists, prying her away from his body. "For Cassandra, it's her birthday tomorrow."

I purse my lips in confusion. That name struck a bell. But then I let it go, because I'd the memory span of a goldfish and there was no point in trying to remember, really.

"It is!?" The woman says, her hand flying up to her chest in excitement. She even jumps a little in glee.

Uh, dramatic much?