22

Arm in arm, Jane and Clare strolled through the doors of the Armani store to be met with two black-as-night Art Deco styled metal staircases that formed a diamond around a display of gorgeous gowns.

Nothing else of the store could be seen, hidden by three storeys of frosted glass. Ambient music played, relaxing the mind yet seeming to energize it at the same time.

Clare’s shiver of excitement vibrated through to Jane. “Once we go up those stairs, life will never be the same again.”

Jane laughed, feeling her girlish excitement.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

They ran up the stairs as fast as they could. At the top floor, their way ahead was blocked by a set of double doors made of more of that frosted glass.

Jane pressed a bell on the wall. A pleasant voice enquired from the intercom, “Welcome to Armani Privé. Can I have your name, please?”

“It’s Jane Smith… and Clare. We’re supposed to have an appointment—”

Her next words were interrupted by the swoosh of the doors opening inward. A beautiful red-haired girl with impossibly long legs in a halter-neck top and high-waisted culottes greeted them warmly.

“Hello. I’m Fiona, and I’ll be assisting you together with my team.”

Beyond her stood a line of equally stunning girls, any of who could have come straight off the catwalk.

“We’ve been fully briefed and have already selected some gowns that we think might be suitable. If you follow me, we can start the process off.”

Fiona swept her dead-straight hair off one bare shoulder and led the way to a room with deep-pile carpet and a circular sofa. Crystal lights dangled from the ceiling, providing a bright yet intimate setting.

“Please, sit, relax,” Fiona gestured to the sofa as one of the other girls appeared with a platter of fruit, cheese, and nibbles, as well as flutes of champagne and a bowl of chocolate dipped strawberries.

“Would either of you like something else to drink? Maybe some tea or coffee?”

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Clare picked up a glass of the champagne. “I’m perfectly good with this, actually. Jane?”

“Same here.” They clinked glasses, took a sip of the champagne.

“This is quite possibly the best day I’ve ever had, and we haven’t even begun yet,” Clare sighed.

Fiona smiled, brilliant blue eyes shining. “Well, you should see what we have lined up for you. It seems, you are a very lucky lady.”

Jane nibbled on a strawberry, savoring how sweet the fruit was. Her eyes grew wide as six gowns were presented to them — each with their own assistant.

“Oh my. These are extraordinary.” She admired the first dress, running her fingers through the silky material, watching as the sun glinted off the tiny pearls that studded the neckline.

“Are those real?” Clare gaped, champagne forgotten for the moment.

“Yes. Over five hundred pearls — all hand sewn, of course.”

“Of course,” Clare repeated, shooting an impish look at Jane.

Jane glided toward a misty pale dress of silver, drawn by the stones that shimmered each time the material moved.

“The changing room is over there,” Fiona pointed. “Hannah will bring the dress in for you and help you with it too, if you require?”

“Thank you,” Jane answered, feet already moving of their own accord. “I’ll see you in a minute,” she told Clare.

“Sure thing,” Clare replied, though her eyes were busy sizing up a dress of their own.

“That would look wonderful with your figure,” Fiona encouraged. “Why don’t you try it on?”