Page 5 of The Chance
"How about you get a new skirt as well. I can't look at that one for the rest of the day. It’s making me nauseous." Linda pretended to retch as she pushed her feet off the floor and let the chair roll back to her desk on its own accord.
We trotted into the washroom to freshen up. Linda brushed her sleek cocoa coloured hair and touched up her already perfect make up. I almost swallowed my tongue when I caught sight of my unkempt locks. My usual silky caramel locks were ruffled and, dare I say it, almost knotted. I was having the worst hair disaster – even a garden rake wouldn't help. It was a combination of nervous twiddling during the meeting and the room temperature that morphed my lengths into a bird’s nest. I always took pride in my appearance, so this was downright ridiculous.
Growing up in the city meant competition from all angles. School girls were cut throat, and I was sucked into the primp and prep stage from an early age. The minor blip occurred when Mum took ill, and I was shipped off to spend the summer with my auntie and uncle in the arsehole of nowhere.
I'm no stranger to hard work after that long summer. Dad told me it was character building, and, to an extent, I totally agreed, but I couldn't get my nails done or my hair treated. Aunt Isobel had laughed at me when I asked her if I could go to the village to get a hair mask and gel nails. I can still remember her husky laughter and the words, "Girl, you're a beauty just as you are. You don't need all that fake stuff to make you look better."
At the time I was livid. Cracked nails and dry hair were definitely not how this girl wanted to roll. I’ve made up for it since.
"Here, use my hair spray and tie your hair up." Linda nudged the bottle into my side with a pleading look. "You need to get up earlier. I don’t know if we can still be friends if you're going to look like that all the time." The sweet giggle wasn't missed. I knew she was joking, well I hoped so anyway.
I sighed and swept up my long lengths into a high ponytail and brushed the tips. With a swipe of nude gloss and swoosh of cherub pink blush, I was ready for the lunch time rush. The race was on to find a sexy little dress for tonight, one that didn't scream desperate but held his attention for the entire dinner.
The shops were a buzz with city girls feeding their retail addiction. This was my life. I was fashion fabulous and design dreamy. From prints to plains and advertisements to glossy magazines, I was enthralled by it all.
Linda squealed. The high-pitched squeak carried from the other side of the boutique to where I was standing. "This one! Lexi look at this. It's perfect."
She trotted over and waved the aqua blue chiffon, flouncy curtain in my face. "Dreamy or what?"
My brow wrinkled up like I wanted early wrinkles. "For real? My mum would wear that thing to bed. I'm going on a date in Belfast, not a day out at the royal garden party. I'm only twenty-two, girlfriend, not fifty."
She snorted loudly. "Fine." Holding the dress at arm’s length, she twirled it on the hanger and retreated back to where it came from.
I gathered up a few dresses, a pair of ankle grazer skinny jeans and one or two tops. Then scooped up a skirt and a blouse on my way to the changing rooms. That was the one thing I hated about shopping – the long mirrors that displayed every little lump and bump under the unforgiving bright lighting. Shimmying on the black skirt that zipped up at the rear over my full rounded ass, I marvelled at its perfect shape. Then I clambered into a dress and just as quickly hauled it back off again. The material was scratchy, and the fit was like a sack around my narrow waist. The next option was a pinstripe design which actually looked like an office dress, but it hugged my curves and looked more like a sexy mistress outfit.
After trying on every garment, I purchased the stripy dress, the jeans, the blouse and the skirt, settling the hefty bill with my crowded credit card.
"Just as well I still live at home. I couldn't afford this stuff otherwise. My monthly bill is colossal." I leaned into Linda and muttered through the side of my mouth, so the sales assistant couldn't hear.
"If things go well with Blake, you'll be rolling in cash. He's a personal trainer with money to burn."
"Hmm." I drifted off. I wasn't interested in finding a guy with money. I had my own aspirations. Okay, they were a bit sidetracked right now, but I would pull my shit together at some stage and make my own way in life. This was my adulthood hiatus. Finding my calling was the first thing on the agenda before flying the nest.
Back at the office I changed into my second new skirt of the day and teamed it with the new polka dot silky blouse. As I sat at the desk, I let my mind take a little spin to the farmhouse nestled amongst lush green fields and the tall farm guy who had my phone safely hidden in his rear pocket. Tucked against his firm ass or maybe he swapped it up and kept it in the breast pocket, snuggled against his hard pecs. There was a silly flutter in the middle of my chest when I thought about him. It felt like nerves and excitement trapped in a bubble, floating aimlessly around in my chest.
The afternoon flew by. I emailed Denzel with a hearty apology and the figures he expected earlier. Then I tried to smooth over the cracks with Mags. I got the feeling she wanted to fire me then and there, but I made a promise to up my game. I think my saviour was the new images I created for the branding, even though that wasn’t my job. She seemed to love them more than my wordy request for forgiveness.
It was six thirty by the time I drove down the bumpy lane to collect my phone. As usual, I was in a rush and was supposed to meet Blake in half an hour. The bright afternoon sun had dried up the puddles, turning the gravel to dust. It bellowed around the wheels of my car when I finally came to an abrupt halt.
A small blonde girl was playing hopscotch on the concrete by the house. Her little pigtails flapped against her cheeks as she bounced over the chalky grid. What took me completely by surprise was the farm guy standing by her side. His legs were a fraction apart and his arms were folded across a tight black tee. He’d unbuttoned the overalls and undressed, leaving the top section to hang loose, letting the sleeves dangle to his boots. The sweet smile on his face grew even wider when he looked up, straight at me. The door creaked as I shunted it open and shuffled out of the seat to a stand. I shimmed down the skirt and combed the tips of my hair with a quick drag of my nails. Swallowing loudly, I felt my heart rate raise. It had gone from normal to Mario Kart fast, skidding on the corners and flying into a spin.
"Outfit change, city girl?" His husky voice drifted across the space between us and landed on my skin like a seductive squeeze.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and met his intense stare. "Couldn't sit at work all day covered in cow shit, now could I?" My cheeks pinked.
"Guess not." He ambled forward. "You're gonna be late for your date."
Date? What date? He’d scrambled my focus so all I thought about was him. "Uh, yeah, I had to finish off a design before I could leave. Did he message me again?"
Seb nodded. “I texted him to let him know you were running late. I pretended to be you. Hope that's okay?"
"You did?" I raised my brows in surprise.
"Yeah."
"Oh, right. Thanks."
“Are you taking a taxi back into the city when you’re ready?” He scratched his scalp through the mass of lustrous thick hair.
