by Lucia Jordan
* * *
By the time the stores had received the retail shipments, the windows were ready, and they were already catching the eyes of city-goers. People stopped in the stores and asked where they could find the clothes in the windows, even before the boxes were unpacked. Arlo was getting calls at the office nearly from the first day. The designs were set on the racks, already ordering more shipments in anticipation of running out. I stopped by each and every one of the window displays each day that week to check up on them just to make sure they didn’t need any small tweaks and also just to have some fun. I took selfies in front of the displays and even crawled inside one or two and took backward selfies through the glass with onlookers on the sidewalks.
It was so much fun that, at times, I couldn’t believe this was my job. I was finally getting paid—and well, thanks to Arlo—to be doing exactly what made me happy. I took the pictures and threw them all up on social media outlets that I had created for myself as a freelance designer, and within hours, pictures and short video clips started to trend and then go viral. I was getting messages from designers and companies halfway around the world who were interested in my talent. I brought up some of the proposals with Arlo, as we sat and celebrated the successes with an intimate dinner at his apartment.
“You can’t tell me that you’re considering taking these offers, right?” he asked. “I mean, they’re amazing, and I’m so happy for you that you’re receiving so much notoriety, but you’re still hired by Luscious. You’re not leaving me, are you?”
“Of course not!” I said. “I was just sharing all of the proposals so we could see if any of them would be something you might be interested in getting Luscious involved in. That way, maybe we could bring in a few new international clients together.”
I took a sip of my wine and said something entirely without meaning to. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine that I had already, which clouded my judgment and made me bolder than I usually was, or maybe it was just the persistence of truth that had been waiting and was ready to come out. Either way, I soon regretted saying it.
“I couldn’t leave you,” I smiled. “I love you.” That was not at all how it was supposed to happen.
Arlo looked at me in shock as he held the wine glass to his lips in a frozen, reactionary stare. I hadn’t meant to say that then, it just sorts of fell out of my mouth, and I wasn’t sure why it chose that exact moment to do so. The truth was that I did love Arlo, so much that on most days, I had trouble concentrating on anything else. But that was something that should have been said during a passionate and intimate moment, not while we were sitting on the floor talking about work stuff. It was also something that shouldn’t have been said yet, not so soon.
I wasn’t sure when the “normal” time into a relationship was for people to make proclamations of love to each other, but I was pretty sure we hadn’t reached it yet, even though we had known each other technically for years. I sat there, feeling my face start to blush in a dozen different levels of pinkish heat. Even though I knew it was unexpected and shouldn’t have popped out of my mouth quite like that, I was still naïvely hoping that Arlo would tell me he loved me in return. But instead, the worst thing happened; he said nothing and completely changed the focus.
“I’m glad you don’t have plans to leave,” he said as he finished the sip of wine he had been trying to take before my random verbal outburst. “What would I do without you?”
He smiled and went back to talking about the project we were working on as if nothing had just happened. How could he not address that or at least say something, anything in return? His silence was worse than any answer he could have given, and I felt off about things for the rest of the evening. I had been planning to spend the night at his apartment but made up some excuse about needing to get home because I had a headache and left my migraine meds in my apartment.
I just felt like I couldn’t stay after that. I couldn’t make love to him and sleep in his arms without knowing how he truly felt about me, and it killed me to think about it at all. Even though I hadn’t meant to blurt it out, I did think that Arlo had feelings for me, feelings that were more than just “boyfriend-girlfriend” casual-type dating feelings. I guess I didn’t realize it, but I had already let myself start to hope and believe that he was in love with me. Now, without even meaning to, I might have uncovered the fact that he didn’t feel that same way about me. Maybe I had read this whole situation wrong, and maybe this was just something fun and temporary while we were both still working together. I felt like such a fool, and as soon as I got back to my apartment, I started to cry when I thought about how I might end up losing Arlo, even as a friend. I curled up with my blanket and closed my eyes to think about things. I hadn’t had a headache before, but I was starting to get one now.
After a little while, my phone beeped. I lifted it to my face in the dark, and the blueish light stung my eyes. It was from Arlo. For a fleeting second, I thought maybe he had texted to say that he loved me, too. But again, I was let down. I just needed to stop hoping for things altogether.
“How is your headache?” he asked through text.
I didn’t answer him. I didn’t want to lie to him anymore, but I also didn’t want to tell him the truth. So instead, I just set my phone back down and pretended to be asleep. In the morning, I could figure out what sort of answer I wanted to give.
Except that morning came with its own surprise. When I got to Arlo’s office, he wasn’t there. His secretary told me that he had an errand or two to take care of. I asked if I could just wait in his office for him, but she told me that she didn’t expect him back until the end of the day. What kind of errand took all day long? Since I didn’t want to lose a full day of work waiting around on him, even though I felt like I needed to talk to him before I could focus on anything else, I went to F.I.T. to continue some work. On my commute there, I texted him.
“Hey,” I said. “Sorry, I fell asleep last night. Just stopped by your office, and you weren’t there.”
I was hoping that he wouldn’t take too long to respond because then I would worry that I really had botched things up last night.
“Hey!” his text dinged a minute or two afterward. “Sorry, yeah, I’m not in the office today. I had some things to do around town. Can you do me a favor today?”
“Sure,” I replied. “What is it?”
“I need you to grab that sheer dress and alter it back to fit you instead of Kerynne.”
I could feel my face making a weird look while I read his text. Why in the world would he want me to alter that dress back to fit myself? Those pieces weren’t even really being worn anymore.
“How come?” I asked.
“Remember how I said the store Closet Magic had a conflict and couldn’t do a window display? Well, they’ve been able to free up a window to do it after all.”
“That’s awesome!” I texted. “I can head right over there to start setting up the display.”
“No, there’s no need for that. I’ve had my design team handle it since you already have your hands full,” Arlo said.
That seemed a little odd. All of the windows were done by my crew of helpers and me from F.I.T. Why wouldn’t he want us to do the one at one of the most prominent stores?
“Okay,” I answered, still feeling a little weird about it. “But why the dress?”
“I need you to wear it in the window, just for a minute or two. There’s one shot that I want to take there with that dress that needs a model, and we don’t have any models,” he said.
“Yeah, but remember what happened the last time I tried to fill in as a model?” I added the eye roll emoji to my text for extra dramatic effect.
“Yep, I do,” he said. “And I also remember seeing you in that sheer dress, which is exactly why I want you to do it. Please?”
I hesitated for a minute, but when he texted another “please,” I gave in.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go back to your office and pick up
the dress to alter. When do you need me to wear it?’
“Tomorrow.”
I took the dress home and didn’t hear too much else from Arlo. He seemed either very busy or distant. His texts appeared to have a good tone to them, though, so I wasn’t too worried that anything was wrong. I mostly just wanted to get back over to be with him. I worked on the dress for most of the day. There weren’t many alterations to make, but I had to be careful of those I did make. The fabric was too delicate to withstand much pulling. When I finally had the dress perfectly altered. I tried it on and looked in my bedroom mirror at myself.
The dress was truly a perfect creation. It made me look much more beautiful and ethereal than I was. I loved this dress and all the memories that came with it, and I smiled at myself in the mirror about the fact that I got to wear it again and would have professional pictures taken of me in this dress tomorrow. Kerynne would probably think of something hateful to say about it. But she wasn’t the one who got to wear the design again tomorrow; I was. Her jealousy didn’t affect me anymore. The only two thoughts in my head now were about standing inside one of the storefront windows to model my favorite dress, and how I was going to somehow talk to Arlo about what I had blurted out last night.
I did a little more work at home, sketching out some retail versions of the sheer dress that we could pitch to stores for the mass consumer. It had been meant as a one-of-a-kind statement piece for the runway show, but it now seemed much too pretty to just leave on a hangar without at least trying to make it live on in a more accessible form.
By the end of the night, I was tired and getting ready for bed when Arlo texted again.
“I hope the alterations went well. Can you meet me at Closet Magic tomorrow at ten in the morning?”
“Sure,” I answered.
“Great! Goodnight then, Hensley,” Arlo texted. “Oh and wear the dress when you come.”
Wear the dress?
How was I supposed to wear the dress in the city? I had planned to change into the dress once I got there inside one of the store’s fitting rooms. It wasn’t exactly like I could commute around the city in a practically see-through outfit that was so prone to ripping that I probably would even have the first shred of fabric on by the time I got to his office.
“Whatever,” I said to myself aloud as I crawled back into bed.
I would figure out how to navigate New York City in a design meant only for the runway, and then I would stand in a window to pose for what would likely be the last shoot. Then, maybe, we could spend the day working side by side again and end tomorrow back at Arlo’s apartment, where I could wake up in his arms again the following day. At some point, I was sure that the admission of my feelings toward him would get brought up, and when they did, I would either just be honest or lie and tell him that I didn’t mean it in the way it sounded. I could figure that out tomorrow.
When I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, I had a dream that Arlo said those three little words, too.
22
Chapter Twenty (Arlo)
When Hensley had first said the words, I had to admit that I was shocked. The shock didn’t come as much from the fact that she had said it, but more from the way that she just said it without hesitation as if it were as natural as breathing. I had been wrestling for weeks with whether or not to tell her how I felt, when to tell her, and how to tell her; it had almost become an obsession in my mind. When I had the idea of what I would do in the window display and was able to get Meg’s cooperation, it all started to fall into place, especially once I heard Hensley say those words.
I knew that if I didn’t tell her that I loved her, too, she would worry that I didn’t. I knew it wasn’t really fair of me to make her wait and let her think that perhaps I didn’t actually feel the same. But it wasn’t too long of a wait, and it would be worth it. I had the best surprise in store for her, and as long as things went according to my plan, this was going to be one of the best days of both of our lives, a day that would be captured in both our memories and in pictures. I made sure to get everything ready the day before, which made me seem even more distant and preoccupied, but it was necessary for things to go off without a hitch. Everything at Closet Magic was ready, and Meg had done the best job of keeping it all under lock and key so that there was no possible way that Hensley would find out about the surprise ahead of time. I had coordinated two of my staff to be there when we arrived; one was an excellent photographer who would capture every moment of it on camera, and the other was one of my set designers who would make sure the rouse looked as believable as possible right up until the minute we revealed the real reason we were there.
I got out of bed and got ready. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt because this was meant to illuminate Hensley's beauty and all of the creativity and passion that she brought to my life. I almost walked out of my door without the small box, which at the last moment, I slid into my pocket. On my drive to Closet Magic, I thought about Hensley trying to navigate her commute to the store through the city while wearing that dress. It was also unfair of me to make her do that, but again, there was a reason. It was her fairytale, and I had to make the story both believable and poignant; otherwise, what was a fairytale, really? I chuckled a little bit, visualizing Princess Hensley making her way through the crowded streets of New York City, catching everyone’s eye and not realizing the destiny she headed toward.
When I got to Closet Magic, it was already close to nine o’clock. Fortunately, everything looked perfect, and the only thing missing was Hensley. I had an hour or so before she arrived, so I used the time to calm my nerves and enjoy the scene in the window. Hensley had done a fantastic job with all of the displays, and she was far more of a creative designer than I was. But there was something about this window that I had created that was special—very special. Meg pulled the curtain that had been placed over the glass to hide the scene, and I stood in front of the store and looked at it.
The perfect fantasy scene stood before me, one just for Hensley. There was a completely realistic woodland backdrop, made from real foliage and trees that I had brought in in temporary planters hidden with moss and roots at the base to make it look authentic. The lights strung at the ceiling were hidden behind the branches to make it seem like starlight shining through the trees' canopy. Even in the daytime, the lighting looked magical. I added something special in this display—a single chair. It was a throne made out of branches that had been woven together and dusted with speckled mushroom caps that looked like they were growing up around the base of it. That would be where Hensley sat for what she believed was a photoshoot for the launch.
I stood outside in awe for a few moments, soaking in the energy of the anticipatory moment before it happened. Commuters were walking by and stopping to gawk at the beautiful scene with me. Just wait until they saw what was coming.
“You ready?” Meg asked as she stepped outside to join me for a moment.
“Definitely,” I smiled.
“Good,” she said. “Because I think that’s your princess coming up now.”
I turned to see that Meg was right. Hensley was walking down the sidewalk toward us. She looked so beautiful that my breath caught in my throat. She had put a jacket over the top of the dress, which hid most of the naughty bits that would be revealed beneath the translucent fabric. But she was still a sight to see, and just as expected, she was turning every eye that caught a glimpse of her.
“Hey,” I said as I reached out to hold her once she got close enough and kissed her softly on the lips.
She smiled as if she hadn’t expected me to do that right here out in front of everyone on the street. Or maybe she was still worried and doubting my feelings for her since I never did respond to what she had said. It didn’t matter because all those doubts were soon going to be put to rest.
“Wow, you look stunning,” I said.
Even in the street setting, even with a jacket over the dress, she looked incredible. Sh
e had even done up her hair and makeup to be in a fantasy style since she thought this was an actual marketing photoshoot. Her hair was twirled up into braided heaps on her head, studded with leaves and glittery rhinestones that looked like there was a galaxy entangled up in her braids. Her makeup was shimmering, and the long, curled cat-eyes drawn on with eyeliner made her look as if she belonged more to a fairy kingdom than a kingdom on earth.
“I thought that I would play it up a bit,” she laughed. “Since it would probably be my first and last actual photoshoot.”
“You look incredible. There aren’t words in any language that I know that could adequately describe how lovely you are.”
She blushed as we walked inside so she could get into place inside the window display. She took off her jacket and stepped up onto the raised platform inside the window.
“This is amazing!” she said. “Your design team did this?”
“Actually,” I replied, “only I did.”
She looked at me in shock. I mean, I was a designer, too, but she hadn’t really seen too many of my creations lately because I had been mostly working on my company's business end. I couldn’t blame her for being surprised that I was actually quite good at it.
“This is absolutely astonishing,” she said. “You did a great job.”
“Thanks,” I smiled as my nerves started to crawl a bit and my heart started to jump around inside of my chest.
“Where do you want me?” she asked.
Passerby started to stop and stare into the window when they saw such a beautiful “model” in the store display, looking as if she had just stepped out of a fantasy book and was displaced inside the real world for just long enough for them to witness.
