Agreements With Mr Rich Boy | ✓

3 | Rude Stranger

I LOOKED ABSOLUTELY HIDEOUS.

Everything about it looked wrong. I looked wrong.

The dark navy, almost black, jacket was far too big for me. It swamped my small frame and made me look like I did on the first day of reception. A mess.The skirt wasn't much better: I could probably hoola hoop it around my waist. It must have been at least four sizes too big.

I attempted to roll the sleeves, but it made little to no difference whatsoever.

The tie was really the only thing to not look so preposterous. It was thin, and black and red. I hardly remembered how to tie it, but did after a bit of fumbling and let it hang neatly. As I watched my reflection, I realised it was the only thing that did look neat about my appearance. Everything else looked scruffy, almost as if I wasn't wearing a several hundred pound uniform.

At that thought, I gulped hard. Nothing I owned was worth the amount even just the skirt was costing the school. It was at that moment that I was eternally grateful that they would be footing the bill because of the semi-scholarship I'd secured. Otherwise, it just wouldn't have been doable. Maybe I'd have had to go in in my underwear. That would probably scar those who saw me, for life.

"You don't have anything in a smaller size?" I asked.

"Nothing to fit your... budget," she said from the other side of the curtain.

I stared at myself for several minutes, trying to figure out a way—other than declining the offer—to get out of wearing this disastrous uniform. It was frustrating that, had I had more money and could afford a proper fitting one, it would look actually quite smart. But, I didn't.

Holding my breath and swallowing my pride, I pushed the curtain aside and walked forward. I stepped onto the small pedestal at the centre, now seeing several of me— each looking worse than the last.

"Well, it's not quite right, is it?" I wanted to laugh as she said that. 'Quite right?' It was the furthest away from 'right' as humanly possible.

"Do you have anything else?"

She actually looked quite sympathetic. "I'm afraid we don't. We may—"

The woman from the main entrance could be heard talking to someone else, and the girl must have recognised it as she suddenly stood completely rigid. Her face was drained of all colour. Although she began to sweat and pat her hair frantically, her make up looked like it wasn't going to move anytime soon.

"Who is it?" I whispered quietly.

She ignored me, and began talking to herself again. "He wasn't supposed to be coming until tomorrow! We're completely unprepared!"

"Who is it?" I repeated.

She ignored me once more.

I stood, still, in my baggy uniform. But, instead of being disgusted at my own reflection, my attention was focused on the steady footsteps now not too far away. Despite never having seen the owner of them, I began to feel a little nervous myself. Something about their steady, rhythmic pace made me imagine someone in a business attire, probably older.

They travelled from the front desk and then even closer towards the step down to the level me and the blonde girl were on. She looked terrified further still, and I could have sworn I saw her hands shaking slightly.

"Oh, right this way, Mr Redwood," I heard the woman say, now without a hint of boredom in her tone. In fact, she sounded like a small child would to an admired parent: desperate to please. "We have a lovely selection this year. I'm sure you will—"

"I'm sure I will be satisfied, yes." I raised my eyebrows in surprise at his abrupt rudeness, but then I supposed this was how all rich people behaved. I thought it was uncivilised, myself. "I won't be here long."

"Of course, of course. We'll have you fitted and on your way in no time."

"I should expect so."

Both I and the girl listened to the exchange intently.

At the sound of them on the same level as us, she hurriedly fixed her lipstick in the mirror and shimmied her boobs upwards, before turning round with a smile. I raised an eyebrow in question. Before I could voice this question, the pair had touched the flooring and were headed this way.

I didn't have a chance either to hurry back into the changing room as they both caught sight of us.

I realised then why the blonde girl had made the effort. And also how wrong I'd been.

Beside the greying, slender woman stood one of the most handsome men I had ever seen in person. He was tall with broad shoulders and an obvious muscular abdomen, that made me wonder what sports he did. His brown hair fell over his eyes slightly, but he pushed it back swiftly.

I wondered if he noticed me standing there, but realised then he must have, and was just ignoring me.

The girl pushed her shoulders back. "Mr Redwood—"

"My uniform?" He asked, almost as bored as the lady at the front desk had sounded with me.

"We need to get you measured, but Daniel's not here so I'm afraid—"

"Are you telling me you are incapable?"

"Of course not!" The lady butt in. "Charlotte, hurry child, and grab the tape measure. You must fit Mr Redwood his uniform at once!"

She did just that.

"Christ," I muttered as I was nudged off of the pedestal by Charlotte. She ignored my protest, as did everyone else, as I repaired my balance. The boy of my age took my place on it, and let Charlotte scurry around him with her tape measure. "I'm going to change," I told the older woman, who still stood overlooking everything. Again, I was ignored.

I put myself back onto the other side of the curtain and dressed in my actual clothes once again.

Charlotte and the boy talked scarcely as he was fitted, but when I emerged, I noticed she desperately fluttered her eyelashes and pouted to the point it looked uncomfortable. The effort it took to maintain this looked futile, however, as Mr Redwood took little notice.

I must have stared longer than I'd thought as I heard a firm, "Ms Dubois, this way, if you please."

The boy lifted his head.

I trailed after her, resisting the temptation of looking back at the boy. Yes, he was incredibly attractive, but it wasn't his looks that drew me to him, but because I heard yet another declaration of his rudeness. With a sigh, he told Charlotte, "I don't have all day."

I rolled my eyes.