Summer Fire
Page 42
“Agreed. And your second reason?”
“Right, the second reason. A new man moved into the building, into flat number 906, who is dreamy. I haven’t been able to forget his face, and if I can make myself more attractive so he’ll take notice, then it’s certainly worth a try.”
“Blimey, I would have thought a miss like you would have all kinds of boyfriends.” Shock rang in Greta’s voice that soothed the ruffles in Remi’s self-confidence.
“Truth is—I’ve not had many blokes pay attention to me. When I first lost all my weight in my teens, I was too clumsy and shy to take advantage of the offers. In Uni, studying for my CGA, I had to be totally invested in those courses. Accounting was never my forte, but was my mother’s suggestion to a daughter who had nothing better planned. So the fellows there, who were interested, soon gave up. I have had a couple of relationships since I moved here, but either I met the wrong ones or men nowadays are just needier than I have time for.”
“And you think this man will be different? The bloke in 906?”
Remi began to giggle. “In his case—the needier the better.”
*
Once the girls had shopped and tackled their first cooking lesson, they piled the containers of salads, chopped, marinated veggies and other specialties into the refrigerator; then Remi showed Greta some of the drawings she’d made for a room design she’d visualized that beat anything else she’d accomplished so far.
“This is much more demanding than anything I’ve ever tackled. It would have to be done for someone with enough money to afford the furnishings, but I think it’s super.”
“Oh, Remi. It’s awesome the way you’ve integrated all those colors without creating confusion.”
“I’ve always pictured this as a place I could easily live in myself. It’s the way I work. Always keeping in mind the personalities of the inhabitants, I could still never produce something that goes against my own taste.”
Greta sat silently and Remi had an inkling of what was coming. And… she wasn’t disappointed. In fact, it might have been her underhanded reason for bringing up the subject of colors and mixing them stylishly in the first place.
“Remi, I don’t have any style at all. Every morning, I sift through my wardrobe and try to choose what to wear that day. It’s painful. Eventually, I grab my old jeans and whatever top seems less ugly. Could you help me, tell me what I could do differently?”
Remi surveyed her as if she’d never done so before and pretended to carefully consider how Greta could embellish her attributes. Meanwhile, if the girl only knew, she’d been doing this since the scheme to help Greta first came about.
“Are you seriously asking for my opinion?”
“Yes.” Greta’s eyes were huge with appeal.
“Don’t get mad if you don’t like my recommendations.”
“Never!” Emphatic, Greta sat at the edge of the sofa and hero-worshipped Remi.
Pretending her words were just there and had not been practised, Remi said. “Your dark hair shouldn’t be long. It’s lank and needs to be styled around your face, which is quite small. If it’s cut properly, puffed up just right and you add some spray-on coloring highlights, it would bring focus to your gorgeous brown eyes. Also, with that long fringe hanging over your forehead, the way you have now, no one sees them clearly and that’s a shame. If you want, we can go to my hairdresser next weekend and she’ll do the makeover for you. Trust me, she’s cool and young, knows today’s fashions and is a magician with her scissors. You’d look more like the other girls I see nowadays.”
When Greta’s eyes grew round with trepidation, Remi added. “The picture of what I’m envisioning is on her wall so you can actually see what it looks like before you come to a decision.”
Greta lifted a long thin strand and held it in front of her. “I’d love to, she gushed. “Really, Remi, I want to go with you. I only left it to grow because I didn’t know how to get it cut. What about the colors I should wear? What do you think will most suit me?” Greta’s eyes were shinning with glee. Having someone’s attention based exclusively on her enhanced the youthful glow in her cheeks.
“Certainly not the ones you’ve been wearing; those plums and greys are too old for you, and black washes you out completely. Instinctively, you must know they don’t look good on you or you wouldn’t have such a hard time choosing every morning. Also, Greta, it’s not so much the colors, but the styles you pick. They’re for grandmothers, not teenagers. You need to shop where they sell clothes for younger people.”
Nodding, Greta agreed. “My mom buys all my clothes. I’ve been too nervous to go on my own and get the things I need. When the time comes, will you go with me?”
“What do you mean when the time comes?”
“When I’ve lost my weight”
“Why wait until then. We can get you a few new things for now that you may be able to utilize with a belt later on.”
“Uh, huh! No way! I’ll wait. I want to watch the weight disappear under these old rags.”
Not sure why Greta felt this way, Remi had to ask. “Don’t you want your friends to know that there’s a new you happening?”
Darkness swept over the bright smile and it faded to dismay. “You want me to get new stuff now?”
“Not at all. I just wondered why you’d want to wait.”
“Because it’ll just give Cassie Edwards something else to bully me about. As it is, she’ll tease me about the new hairdo. If I wait to change my clothes until after I lose some weight first, she might not spoil it for me.”
“Do you truly believe that? And do you really want to give that little bitch so much power in your life?”
Greta stopped fidgeting and lowered her face into her hands. Remi left her to think about her words while she went into the other room and answered her phone.
“Hi, Dickie. How nice of you to call. Bless you, love. Of course I can visit you and Frank for a drink tonight. Around 5:30pm. You’re sure I can’t bring something? Fine then, see you later. Cheerio!”
By the time Remi had returned to Greta, she’d made a decision. Slumped back against the cushions, tears streaming, she erupted at the first sight of Remi. “You’re right, of course. I’ve given her all my power, haven’t I? She’s the first thing I think of in the morning, and the last thing on my mind before sleeping.”
“Mind if I ask whether you suffer from nightmares?” Giggling, Remi had to ask.
First shock at Remi’s joke then glee appeared, and Greta laughed along with her. Finally she sobered and Remi waited to hear her verdict.
“No more! It has to stop, doesn’t it?”
“Does it? Only you can answer.”
“You’re right! I want to move forward, and she can go to hell with her pack of suck-ups. As of now, there will be a new me.” She stood and came to sit down next to Remi. Hesitantly, she reached out and, when Remi didn’t move, she took her hand. “Bless you, Remi. I couldn’t do this without you.”
Tightening her grip, Remi answered soothingly, “We never have to find out, do we? We’re in this together. I’m your backbone and you’re my mine. Now, will you be available in the morning at 6:30? If the weather outside is too bad, we’ll use the equipment in the building’s gym.”
Head bobbing, Greta crooned. “You’re on.”
“Another thing, if you want to save your money until you’re ready to buy new gear, that’s fine. Until then, I have some tops that you might like to have. They’re ones I wore a while ago and were chosen because they hid my weight. And… because they cost a mint, I never got rid of them. Now I’m glad. I’ll pass them on and you can decide if you like them or not.”
Eyes glowing, Greta gushed. “I love everything you wear. Thank you, Remi. How can I ever repay you?”
“You can’t, because it’s not a question of compensation. Though, maybe one day you’ll be in a position to pay it forward.”
Chapter Eight
Remi prettied up to go to Dickie’s, mo
re to please him than any other reason. The chap had a growing reputation and distinct flair for knowing what suited a woman. More than likely that would be why his shop in town, Delightful Designs, had risen to such heights that every red-blooded, style-loving female yearned to purchase at least one outfit there.
From the first day when Remi had appeared in answer to his ad for a bookkeeper and found him in his office literally ripping at his hair, papers scattered all over his laptop, on the floor and piled on chairs, she’d become his lifesaver and eventually, a good friend. He’d hired her on the spot and blessed the day she’d come into his life.
Thanks to him sharing the news about a coming vacancy, she’d found her home in this building. She’d even helped the guys redecorate their apartment and had had a blast during the whole process. Now, she considered both Dickie and Frank’s companionship vital in transforming her social life from mediocre to entertaining. They always held wonderful parties and amusing evening get-togethers.
Earlier, Dickie hadn’t elaborated on the guest list but, nevertheless, she made sure her mass of curls were restrained in a chic hairstyle with barrettes to tame the bulk. She’d also added the makeup he’d shown her how to apply, chosen his favorite black outfit which the devious devil had forced her to buy on a markdown she questioned to this day. Other than the extra bulk on her hips and butt that was soon going to disappear, she thought she looked nice.
Frank answered the door to her knock, kissed her cheek in his effusive way and accepted the expensive bottle of wine she knew was their special brand. “Sweetheart! It seems forever since we’ve had the pleasure of your company. Tonight is an occasion. We have someone here we’re just dying for you to meet.”
Not sure why her pulse picked up its rhythm to a suffocating level, she followed him into the room where the star of her most recent fantasies waited, smiling a greeting.
There was absolutely no excuse for what happened next. Remi knew a footstool sat in front of the armchair. What the hell, she’d placed the blasted thing there herself. So why she tripped over it was a shocker to her and the three men who rushed to help her up.
“Are you hurt?” Dickie looked as if tears were not far off. Frank flitted around her gesticulating, his hands flapping the air in agitation, which just made her bite her lip to stop from breaking into hysterical laughter. How in the world did she get herself into these asinine situations?
*
Eadan had to laugh, he couldn’t help himself. And he knew she saw when his control slipped and the chuckle broke loose. To her everlasting credit, rather than pulling the hurt card or being angry, she’d winked at him, straightened her clothes and accepted his hand to help her gain her feet. “You know, it’s been years since I’ve suffered from clumsiness. I can only attribute my recent lapse to…” She purposefully left the silence long enough to gain everyone’s attention before she finished the sentence. “…my needing glasses.” It earned her a laugh and relaxed the tension.
Dickie, assured of her well-being, scurried around getting her some wine and playing the delightful host. The man was astoundingly sensitive to the world around him, an intelligent, big-hearted chap. Therefore, Eadan wasn’t surprised when he’d picked up on their recognition. “I believe you two have met, yes?”
Both she and Eadan agreed at the same time, “Yes.”
“Good, I wanted to bring you together because I knew as soon as Eadan saw the wonderful home you created for Frankie and me, he’d be wanting to talk to you about redoing his flat. Am I right, Eadan?”
From the moment he’d stepped into their pleasing surroundings, and seen the symphony of colors that had transformed every one of their classy rooms into a warmth and symmetry of milk-chocolate and teal, with delightful touches of lime greens and purples, Eadan had known the person who’d worked this magic to be gifted. And he wanted the same attention to detail for his home also.
“Yes, of course you’re right, Dickie.” He turned to find Remi’s stare glued to his butt. Aha! Gotcha! “You’ve a wonderful eye, Remi.” He enjoyed seeing her gaze swing to the floor, her lovely blue eyes full of confusion. “Your knack of choosing different shapes and knowing which shades would be perfect is charming and impactful. I really would like to hire you, if you’ll agree.”
*
Remi decided then and there that the gods were smiling on her for some strange reason that she wouldn’t question. Instead, she couldn’t say yes fast enough. “When did you want me to start?”
“How about I take you to dinner tomorrow evening and we can discuss all the details then. I’ll pick you up around seven pm.”
Stuttering, furious that her old habit appeared out of the blue, at the precise moment she wanted so badly to make a good impression, she stumbled her way through her acceptance, finished her wine and decided to leave before she fell through the coffee table, or performed some other equally foolish stunt.
Anyway, she had an early date tomorrow with Greta, and nothing would keep her from following through with their plans. Especially now when she had an opportunity to work closely with the man whose very presence stimulated all her cravings and made her tongue feel like it been sucked down her throat. If she could relax enough in his presence and not have to be aware of her shape, then just maybe, she could attract him. Maybe he could see her as a woman he’d like to know better.
Chapter Nine
“I’m taking Remi Calder for dinner tonight, Graeme. I figured you’d be interested.” Eadan watched the cheery expression change on his brother’s face.
Silence followed, and then Graeme’s voice sounded sarcastic. “Aha! A pity date or a rebound affair?”
“Don’t be silly. She’s a nice girl, not like some of the ultra-modern females we’ve known. There’ll be no hanky-panky.”
Graeme scoffed. “You have to admit the girl’s not your usual choice. We both know that in the past you’ve chosen tall, anorexic, and stiff-as-cardboard dolls… oh, and stunning. Guess we can’t leave that out. Remi Calder doesn’t fit into any of those categories.”
“Bloody hell, bro, those women latched on to me in the past. I think my mistake was in rolling along and not being the controller in my own life. My lazy acceptance finally jumped up and bit me on the arse.”
“Can’t say you didn’t deserve to be woken up—just not in Simone’s disgusting way. No man deserves that kind of an arse-bite. Eadan, you do see that this girl, Remi, doesn’t play by Simone’s rules. Don’t start something with her unless you intend to follow through. Seriously, you’ll break her heart and, since I know my big brother well, that’ll make you feel like shit.”
Eadan heard the concern behind Graeme’s choice of words and took the warning to heart. Following the easy path, letting his female companions lead him around like an idiotic bull with a ring through his nose hadn’t proved to be all that smart. He’d almost carried it too far with Simone. Good Lord, their wedding had been planned for the end of this month! Shivers hit him squarely in the back, making him cringe. Lucky for him, she’d shown her true character in time.
If he seriously wanted to settle down with a nice wife and a family, which he did, then he had to find a partner suited to his dreams. The image of a pretty face, shy eyes and glorious curls popped into his head, and he relaxed.
*
Remi switched her outfit four times before she gave up and put on the first one she’d chosen: her favorite black pantsuit that displayed her legs as longer and her shape as less substantial. No matter how she stood at the mirror or held in her breath, she couldn’t hide the bulges. Mind you, the very expensive shapewear she’d splurged on went some ways towards helping—although, it might have been better if she could take a deep breath.
Earlier, Greta had appeared, given her approval and seemed to be particularly cheerful.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t run all the way around the track with you this morning, Remi. Tonight, I promise to do those yoga exercises you showed me yesterday. I’m hoping they’ll help me be
come more limber.”
“We can’t expect things to happen overnight, sweetheart. One day at a time.” Remi knew exactly how Greta felt. But she also knew the journey was as important as the outcome. She’d leaned a very important lesson the last time she’d taken herself in hand and performed the miracle to get her weight under control. This time, she’d succeed if it killed her, and she’d never go back to giving herself permission to be silly with her health and her looks again.
Greta broke into her thoughts and got her attention. “You know, Remi. I really looked at everyone today and it’s kind of funny. Before now, they all seemed so perfect. But this afternoon, I noticed Cassie’s clingy mates. Leslie laughs too loud, and Katrina isn’t exactly thin, more out and out scrawny. Then another girl, Pam, she actually smiled at me when Cassie wasn’t around, but she has a nervous habit of gnawing on her hair. It’s kind of unflattering.”
Remi chuckled. She’d bet a lot of money that Greta hadn’t dared look at the others this closely before. Maybe they’d have caught her and made fun?
“So what you’re trying to say is that nobody’s perfect.”
“Except for our typical Barbie, Cassie Edwards.”
“Right! How could I forget that twit? But actually, in my mind, looks aside, she’s the least perfect of them all. That girl has a sick heart.”