From Rags(13)
Author: Suzanne Wright

“Turned him down?” Louisa was horrified. “Why?”

“He seemed nice but I couldn’t be with someone who’s a nervous wreck around me.”

Richie sighed. “Well that limits your choice of blokes in general.”

Rubbing his stubbly chin, Ollie asked, “What about the rumours about you and Richie’s male model, Bruno?”

“Oh Anna told me about that article, it was a load of bleeding shite. There had been four of us sitting at that table; me, Anna, Bruno and that other model who’s his mate…Chris, is it? Anyway, whoever took the picture zoomed in on me and Bruno and made it look like we’d gone out on some intimate dinner as a couple.”

If she remembered rightly, the article had also stated that Bruno spent a lot of time at her apartment. As it happened, only three people other than her had ever been inside: Anna, Tony and Lily. Having grown up in a place where you had to be cautious of who you invited inside, it was a hard thing to snap out of. She still hadn’t given the place any real personality yet, unless you counted Bronty who had claimed the sofa. She simply wasn’t accustomed to having a ‘home’; a place she could relax, a place she could settle into, a place that wasn’t going to get ‘visits’ from her neighbours.

In fact, for the first week that she had had her new car – a yellow Audi convertible – she had been nervous as hell, convinced that it was going to get stolen. Anna had been delighted at the sight of the car, thinking that Jaxxon was now ready to fall into the glamorous lifestyle, but Jaxxon had no interest in trying to keep up with the Jones’. The only reason she had her Audi was because it was a car she had always said she would buy if she had the money. Anna was also disappointed that she couldn’t get Jaxxon to expand her new wardrobe with anything but casual wear. The fact was that Jaxxon loved her jeans and preferred to be comfortable, and she wasn’t going to apologise for it.

“So you’re set on taking Anna on Saturday?” said Richie.

“Yep. She’s actually dragging me shopping after this for something to wear for it. She’s so excited. You aren’t really going to suggest that I ruin her year by uninviting her are you?”

“Alright,” sighed Ollie. “I’ll send a limo to pick you both up from your apartment.”

She suddenly felt slightly uneasy and suspicious. He’d given in way too easily which was completely out of character for Ollie.

“Now, I really must be off. Enjoy the shoot, and be good for your Uncle Tony.”

She rolled her eyes. Ollie, Richie and Tony had all decided to elect themselves to be her honorary uncles – her input not important on the matter. Feeling sorry for her for being family-less, she guessed. “For God’s sake. Next you’ll be calling me Annie and asking me to sing the sun will come out tomorrow.”

“Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow,” sang Richie.

“There’ll be sun,” finished Ollie.

They then, swaying gently, sang the chorus in unison, which Jaxxon found quite disturbing on a number of levels. “Ollie, Rich,” she said awkwardly when they were done. “Have you two ever watched that film Brokeback Mountain?” Their scowls were priceless.

A few hours later, Jaxxon was stood staring at a huge designer store that Anna guided her to. “I am so not going in there.” It was like another world. One filled with blazers and blouses and pencil skirts. Jaxxon knew she didn’t belong in there. Even from outside it was obvious to her that the clothes were all…what was the right word? Sophisticated? Yes, sophisticated. And prim. And posh. All of which Jaxxon equated with boring. What’s more, she could never pull off sophisticated. If she was, by some miracle, going to find a dress that fit the occasion without making her look like something she wasn’t, then she was not going to it there.

“Oh come on,” urged Anna. “I know you don’t like getting dolled up but it’s a massive event. It’s going to be chock-a-block with celebs. We need to find something suitable.”

“It doesn’t mean we have to go there looking like the Prime Minister’s wife.” A tingling sensation very suddenly scuttled down her spine; her inward warning system, developed after years of having to watch your back, alerting her that someone was watching her. Probably paparazzi, she told herself. But this felt different. It felt wrong. A quick glance around revealed nothing alarming.

Anna nodded. “Alright, let’s try somewhere else.” Jaxxon had never been able to afford shopping sprees so didn’t know the magic of retail therapy and Anna was determined to introduce her to it, though she expected it might take a few goes before Jaxxon was comfortable with the whole thing. She tended to get a little claustrophobic when there were a lot of people around her.

Jaxxon vetoed four more stores but, for some reason, had a good feeling about the fifth. So now for the next part. Go inside. Pick something. Try it on. Pay. Then get the hell out.

One chirpy, overly-attentive assistant quickly became six, and then both Jaxxon and Anna were ushered into a private room where the assistants proceeded to bring in various dresses in various styles by various ‘top designers’. Jaxxon glared hard at Anna. Places like these serve models and celebs all the time, she says, there’ll be no fuss, she says. Anna was going to get her little shimmy kicked so badly.

The assistants kept using terms like ‘looks perfect with your skin tone’, ‘brings out your eye colour’, ‘highlights your curves’. Soon Jaxxon was feeling overwhelmed. The idea of getting into her beloved car had never sounded better. But going home empty handed wasn’t an option. Determined to not have to go to another store to endure this again, Jaxxon resolved that she would choose something from this collection if it killed her.

She tried on a few dresses. The first made her look like a porcelain doll. The second made her look stuck up her own arse. The third made her look like a posh prostitute. But the fourth…It was an ice-blue, silk, halter-neck that was elegant yet stylish and clung to her like a second skin. According to the happy assistants, the skin-clinging part was vital. Whatever. It fit, it was a nice colour, and she didn’t look slutty but had avoided looking all prissy. That was good enough for her. The price was more than she had anticipated but she would overlook that; she needed to get out of this sodding shop and breathe.

The good Lord had obviously been looking down on her because Anna also selected something from this store, though Jaxxon suspected this was mostly because Anna had gotten caught up in the whirlwind of attention. The dress she finally settled on was a short, black number that complimented her long legs.