Chapter 47 The Slope of his back
June
"Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Lia asks as I step out of the sixth elevator I’ve taken.
"Phew," I sigh, relieved. "I’m sorry. I went to take some fresh air and ended up losing my way back. I left my phone back in the room, so I couldn’t call you."
Lia nods quickly. "Yeah, I found it. Here you go." She hands me the phone.
"Chris and Tobias are done with their fitting. Now it’s our turn. We need to go." She’s already striding toward another elevator.
"Right," I answer, falling in step.
In the elevator, I try to push away what I saw, and the questions clawing at me. If his girlfriend is here, then fine. So be it. Why should I care if he’s in the same building?
Maybe if he sees me, he’ll know I’m not as poor as he thinks. I can afford SCC too.
No. That’s pathetic. I shouldn’t think like that, because it doesn’t matter.
Right now, I need to pull myself together and focus on what’s important.
Which is?
...
Everything feels important right now—I just need to grab one thing and hold on—
Cling. The elevator stops, doors sliding open.
Lia glances back, confused. "What are you thinking about? Let’s go."
"Yeah," I mutter, stepping out.
We get to the fitting room, and the attendant quickly shows us the racks before placing Lia first. Since she only booked one attendant, we have to take turns, so Lia goes in before me.
"How do I look?" Lia squeaks, stepping out in an emerald sleeveless fitted gown that pools elegantly to the floor.
My lips part in wonder. I give her a thumbs-up. "You look magnificent, Lia."
She beams, turning toward the attendant like an excited bride.
"It’s stunning on you, miss," the attendant says with a small clap, then glances at me. "Would you like this style in another color?"
"Yes. We’re wearing matching outfits," Lia answers before I can speak.
"Wait." I stand, my eyes caught on the black silk dress hugging a mannequin’s curves, its high slit flashing pale leg, its neckline daring. "I want to try that one." I point at it, unable to tear my gaze away.
Already, I see myself in it. I need that dress. I don’t care if Chris pays for it or not—if he doesn’t, I’ll find a way.
"You don't like this one?" Lia lifts a brow, gathering the hem of her dress as she walks closer to me.
I bite my lip, guilt tugging at me. "I really want that one, Lia," I say softly.
She studies the black silk dress again, then clicks her tongue. "You're right. This one won’t even match the necklace and earrings Chris bought for you. We should explore other dresses."
I sigh in relief, and I smile. "Thank you."
When I turn, the attendant is watching me with a skeptical expression.
"Are you sure, miss? That you want that dress?" she asks, blinking.
"Of course," I reply without hesitation.
She exhales as though unburdened. "That dress has been rejected so many times. We had to hide it at the rear end, invisible to customers."
Excitement sparks in me, my hands clasping together. "Then I guess it’s finally found its owner."
She lifted the dress from the mannequin, and I hurried into the fitting room.
When I stepped out a few minutes later, Lia’s jaw dropped.
"Oh my God. Girl—this dress is everything! Don’t move, I need a picture." she squealed, already pulling out her phone to snap shots.
The attendant’s eyes softened as she adjusted the hem. “It really did find its owner,” she said warmly. “This dress was made for you.”
I smiled faintly and turned to the full-length mirror. My breath snags as I catch my reflection.
For a second, I don’t recognize the girl staring back. She didn’t look like June from the office, or June from the club. She was someone else entirely—
Maybe he would like this June.
I bite the inside of my cheek—God, please let the “he” I’m thinking about be the one paying for the dress… not the other one.
—
Ugh. What was I even thinking?
"Don’t you dare show this to Chris before the gala." Lia cut in, nodding dramatically, "Trust me, I’m going full fairy godmother on you."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "You look more excited than I am, and I’m the one in the dress."
"Pose, so I can take another photo," Lia says, adjusting her phone—but then she stop short.
"Shit," she murmurs.
I straighten, my brows furrowing. "What’s wrong?"
She sigh, rolling her eyes. "Scott wants my team to come to the company." Her fingers fly over her screen, tapping furiously. "Why call it a day off if you’re just going to ruin it?" she grumble under her breath.
Her eyes lifts back to me. "You can change into your normal clothes. I’ll bring Chris and Tobias here so we can pay for the dresses and go," she says, already stepping out.
"Alright," I mutter, turning back to the mirror.
"Miss," the attendant calls softly, "I have a faux fur shawl that would go beautifully with this dress. It’s not here—I’ll go fetch it. And don’t worry, you won’t have to pay for it."
My lips part in surprise. "Oh, no, please, I—"
"I insist," she cut in with a bright smile, then slips out of the room.
I chuckle to myself, pointing at my reflection. "I guess we’re lucky today."
I slip back into the fitting room and start changing. As I tug at my blouse, the zipper jams.
"Shit," I mutter, tugging carefully, afraid I’ll rip the fabric.
Then I hear footsteps outside. It must be the attendant.
"I need help with the zip," I call, stepping out—only to freeze.
It wasn't the attendant, or Lia.
It was a man. A tall, broad-shouldered one.
What the hell is a man doing here? My breath seizes.
"I’m sorry," he says quickly, keeping his back to me
Wait a minute – That broad back, that slope of shoulders, the voice. I know them.
I blink hard. I must be imagining it. He can’t possibly be here.
"Mr. Grande?" I snap, needing to be sure.
Slowly, he turns, and it’s him.
My God. My lips part, my eyes widening.
What is he doing here? Inside my fitting room? Is this a coincidence?
"Hermes, honey," a voice trills from outside, and then Lottie steps into the room.
Of course. My guess was right. He came with her.
"Oh my God, I’m so sorry! He must have mistaken your room—" she says quickly, not even sparing me a glance. Instead, she swats his shoulder in playful scolding. "Let’s go. You could’ve called me if you didn’t know which room it was." She slips her hand into his and pulls him toward the door.
He doesn’t answer, instead he only spares me a single glance before walking out with her.
No word, or question. It was like he didn't know me.
There wasn't even an apology. A stranger would apologize for barging to someone's fitting room like that, but he just… left.
My fist tightens at my side. That’s it. I can’t take this insult anymore.