Falling For The Playboy

EVA

Boutiques were a special kind of hell. They could fool people with their rows and rows of designer clothes, the soothing air blasting from the AC’s, the excited looks on people’s faces, Satan’s absence and the lack of a blazing red inferno, but they didn’t fool me.

This was where people’s self esteems came to die. And mine was in danger of drawing it’s last breath.

“Let me show you to another section. ” the sales attendant bared her teeth in something too shark-like to be a smile, clasping her hands in front of her. She’d clung to our side from the moment her eyes latched onto us, when we came in and had refused to leave, offering suggestions when she thought we needed them.

One could barely blame her. One look at Mrs Lawson and the twins and you’d know they were moneyed. With Mrs Lawson looking startlingly young in blue jeans, a cashmere sweater, her face coated in light make-up, Abi, in a brown long-sleeved thigh-length sheath gown, Zoe, in a black baggy designer T-shirt that I’d definitely cop, paired with a short Jean skirt and shorts, and finally, me, in my baggy faded joggers and holey oversized hoodie, it didn’t take a genius to figure out I was the outsider.

I felt like a rat.

“Another section? ” Mrs Lawson threw an incredulous look at the girl, “When we’ve only just entered this one? ”

My brows rose involuntarily. If spending an hour at a place counted as just entered, then she was right.

“But there are somuch mode clothes for her to try out. Spending all her money on-”

“She can get as many clothes as she wants. ” Mrs Lawson cut in, obviously offended.

The sale’s attendants already attained smile, turned apologetic as she nodded, “Of course. ”

I could guess it would not be favourable getting on a customer’s bad side especially at a place like this, reputable for it’s top notch deliveries and customer service. According to Mrs Lawson, it was the best boutique in Abuja and the most expensive. Of course I could easily have figured that out with the decor and amount of people milling around. If the place hadn’t been as huge as it was, I’d have suffocated to death.

I looked up to find Mrs Lawson watching me.

“Do you have all you need here, Eva? ”

What a question.

The huge pile of clothes in the cart beside her could answer that for me. They were tops. All of them. This was the first and only section of the boutique we had entered and I already had more clothes than I’d had my entire life.

Who spent an hour shopping on just tops? Mrs Lawson apparently. Not that I was complaining or anything, but my legs were threatening to give. If she planned on spending an hour on every section we entered, then I was definitely going to pass out.

“In my opinion, ” she continued, “You need much more than these. But if you’d rather come another time for more, that would be okay too. ”

“I’d rather come another time. ” I hurriedly said, and in a bid not to hurt her feelings, added, “Probably newer clothes will be out by then. ”

I didn’t really care about the clothes, I wasn’t one for trend. I’d just opted for something that would sound convincing enough to her.

“How convenient. ” I heard Zoe mutter behind me.

I acted like I didn’t hear her and stared straight at Mrs Lawson, whose face broke out in a warm smile I’d come to grow fonder of within the past two days.

“That’s true. I hadn’t even thought about that. ”

“So where next? ” the assistant piped in, bouncing on the heels of her feet, her vibe, restored. She had passion for her job, that was for sure.

“Skirts and trousers. ” Mrs Lawson answered without hesitating.

“I’ll lead the way. ” the attendant made a grab for the cart, but I beat her to it. I’d felt fifty shades of uncomfortable watching her push my stuff around and I wasn’t going to let her continue if I had a say at all. Which, apparently, I did because no-one said a thing.

We walked out and into a hallway where we almost bumped into two girls coming in. We entered the next door in the hallway, which was for bottoms, indicated by flashing neon light.

We paused in front of the rows of clothes and I could tell we were all thinking the same thing, where do we start from?NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

“Do you wear skirts, Eva? ” the attendant surprised me by directing her question at me.

“No, not really. ” I answered quietly.

“But you’d love to start wearing them now? I’m sure they’d look good on you. ” Mrs Lawson added.

“I’m not sure. ” I kicked at the tires of my cart.

“How will you know if you don’t try it? ” she asked tentatively.

I shook my head, but I didn’t look up at her. Hell. Why couldn’t I have been a normal person with a normal life, dress sense, looks, likes and all? Why did I have to be a giant oddball with baggage the size of Africa?

The atmosphere shifted, becoming suddenly awkward. No one said a thing and I couldn’t find it in me to check what their reactions were afraid I’d see the familiar irritated looks I saw on people’s faces when they dealt with me, on theirs.

“Trousers then. ” the attendant clapper suddenly, catching me by surprise. Everyone really.

She walked briskly and Mrs Lawson followed silently. I wondered if she was pissed at me. That would be hard to stomach. I turned to the twins, curious. Zoe stared at me blankly, no surprises there, while Abi gave me an apologetic smile. How… Nice?

For the past two days, -yes, it was my third day with the Lawsons and I was still of sound body and mind- Zoe had proceeded to ignore my existence to the point that I caught myself actually feeling my body just to make sure that I was indeed flesh and not a ghost. We hadn’t had a single conversation since we were never really alone together, thank God, other than the usual ‘good mornings’ we exchanged. Well, I said, I wasn’t sure she ever responded.

My intuitions had been right about Abi. She’d turned out to be the safe twin. Polite, nice and patient when showing me the basics around something. I wasn’t that uncomfortable around her anymore. It was progress even if it was small.

Her smile had me feeling slightly better. Slightly being the operative word. I simply couldn’t handle Mrs Lawson being pissed at me.

Mrs Lawson’s voice pierced through my not-so-clowded thoughts. “You only own baggy jeans,  Eva, do you think you might want to try out form-fitting ones? ”

I glanced up at her, relief washing over me on seeing the small smile on her face. I blew out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. So she wasn’t pissed after all.

Or maybe she was over it.

“No, they’re not really my style. I’d rather stick to the ones I’m used to. ” I managed to maintain eye contact with her.